36
We entered the apartment. I shut the door, turned the lock, and glared at Carrie. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“I lost it,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “He was so oily, so greasy, to proposition me when we were questioning him.”
“Like that’s never happened to you before? And, what were you doing in his bedroom?”
“Looking for clues. Did you think I was testing out the bed?”
That didn’t deserve an answer. “You did a good job of f*****g that up. I don’t think we’re going to get any more help from Vic.” I opened my bag, took out the fifth of scotch I brought and poured myself a drink.
“Pour a pity glass for me.”
My look shot daggers. “You haven’t had enough?”
“I need to numb my punishing thoughts.”
I unbuckled my belt, slipped it out of my trousers and tossed
