“To talk to the scum of the earth,” Alex shot back as he pulled out of the garage.
“Sounds fascinating,” Bess said, and meant it.
She didn’t think she’d ever been in this part of town before. Many of the shop windows were boarded up. Those still in business were grubbier than usual. People still walked as though they were in a hurry, but it didn’t look as if they had anyplace to go.
Funny, she thought, how Alex seemed to blend with the surroundings. It wasn’t simply the jeans and battered jacket he wore, or the hair he’d deliberately mussed. It was a look in the eyes, a set of the body, a twist of the mouth. No one would look twice at him, she thought. Or if they bothered, they wouldn’t see a cop, they’d see another street tough obviously on the edge of his luck.
Taking her cue from him, she pulled out her bag of cosmetics, darkening her mouth, adding just a little too much eyeliner and shadow. She tried a couple of bored looks in the mirror of her compact and decided to tease up her hair.
Alex glanced back at her and scowled. “What the hell are you doing to your face?”
“Getting into character,” she said blithely. “Just like you. Are we going to bust somebody?”
He only turned away and muttered.
Just his luck, he thought. He wanted to slip into Boomer’s joint unobtrusively, and he was stuck with a redhead who thought they were playing cops and robbers.
Unoffended, Bess put away her mirror and scanned the area. Parking wasn’t a problem here. Bess decided that if anyone left his car unattended in this neighborhood for above ten minutes, he’d come back and be lucky to find a hubcap.
Alex swung over the curb and swore. He couldn’t leave her in the car here, damn it. Any of the hustlers or junkies on the streets would take one look, then eat her alive.
“You listen to me.” He turned, leaning over the seat to make his point. “Stay close to me, and keep your mouth shut. No questions, no comments.”
“All right, but where—”
“No questions.” He slammed out of his door, then waited for her. With his hand firm on her arm, he hauled her to the sidewalk. “If you step out of line, I swear, I’ll slap the cuffs on you.”
“Romantic, isn’t he?” she said to Judd. “Just sends shivers down my spine.”
“Keep a lid on it, McNee,” Alex told her, refusing to be amused. He pulled her through a grimy door into an airless shop.
It took her a minute to get her bearings in the dim light. There were shelves and shelves crowded with dusty merchandise. Radios, picture frames, kitchenware. A tuba. A huge glass display counter with a diagonal crack across it dominated one wall. Security glass ran to the ceiling. Cutting through it was a window, like a bank teller’s, studded with bars.
“A pawnshop,” Bess said, with such obvious delight that Alex snarled at her.
“One word about atmosphere, I’ll clobber you.”
But she was already dragging out her notebook. “Go ahead, do what you have to do. You won’t even know I’m here.”
Sure, he thought. How would anyone know she was there, simply because that sunshine scent of hers cut right through the grime and must? He stepped up to the counter just as a scrawny man in a loose white shirt came through the rear door.
“Stanislaski.”
“Boomer. What have you got for me?”
Grinning, Boomer passed a hand over his heavily greased black hair. “Come on, I got some good stuff, and you know I make a point of cooperating with the law. But a man’s got to make a living.”
“You make one ripping off every poor slob who walks through the door.”
“Aw, now you hurt my feelings.” Boomer’s pale blue eyes glittered. “Rookie?” he asked, nodding at Judd.
“He used to be.”
After an appraising look, Boomer glanced over at Bess. She was busy poking through his merchandise. “Looks like I got me a customer. Hang on.”
“She’s with me.” Alex shot him a knife-edged look that forestalled any questions. “Just forget she’s here.”
Boomer had already appraised the trio of rings on Bess’s right hand, and the blue topaz drops at her ears. He sighed his disappointment. “You’re the boss, Stanislaski. But listen, I like to be discreet.”
