Nora Roberts - High Noon

"Old news."

"A man pounds on a woman that way, it never gets old. The kind of man who does that?" Sykes stopped, shook his head. "On my gauge he's low enough to do anything."

"Oughta have your gauge checked."

"Tell you what mine says, Arnie." Liz circled around to speak from behind him. "It says you're a fucking coward. The kind of sick son-ofabitching coward who'd blow some helpless bastard to pieces. Did it make you feel big? Make you feel important to take him out?"

"I didn't even know the asshole. I told you. I never touched the bastard. Why would I? Seems to me he had the good sense to dump that know-it-all bitch. I'da bought him a drink if I'd met him."

"He was nothing to you, right?" Liz leaned in. "Nothing but a tool you could use to fuck with the lieutenant."

"I don't need to fuck with her. Like I said, old news."

"How do you like playing rent-a-cop for a bunch of yuppies in

Calvin Klein suits, tourists in flip-flops, Arnie? Bet that never gets old." Arnie's face darkened-anger, Phoebe thought, and more. Embarrassment. "It's temporary."

"Oh yeah? You think your daddy's going to get you back on the job?" Drumming the flats of his hands on his own belly, Sykes let out a hoot. "Pig's eye, Arnie, and you know it. You're done, broke the family chain. Some bitch cost me my badge, I'd sure as hell want payback. Why don't you tell us where you were last night, Arnie? Where you were from ten to three in the morning?"

"I toldyou. I was home, with my wife."

"Stupid to lie, don't you think? Doesn't show a bright light." Sykes tapped his temple. "Especially when the wife's not too happy with you to begin with." Sykes pushed through the file in front of him. "Her statement says she doesn't know when you got home, but you weren't there when she went to bed at eleven."

"She's wrong." After a shrug, Arnie tipped his head back to study the ceiling. "I was down in the den, fell asleep watching TV."

"She locked up, Arnie. She did the walk-through before she went up to bed. If you were there, snoozing in front of the tube, where was your car?"

"She didn't see it. She's pissed at me, sure. Just giving me a hard time."

"He's lying," Phoebe stated. "He's lying about being home. And he's nervous."

"She can't place you on the day of the Johnson shooting either. Too bad."

"It was my day off, goddamn it." Anger punched through the shaky nonchalance. "I was running errands. I had things to do."

"Yeah, things to do," Liz agreed. "Like set yourself up in an apartment window and shoot an unarmed man, a surrendering teenager."

"Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck you. I'm not getting screwed on this because that bitch MacNamara wants more blood. She's got you bowing and scraping and doing whatever she wants. I wanted to kill anybody, you can bet your ass it'd be her."

"Killing her ex in front of her, that's a handy way to shove it in her face. Killing Johnson after she'd spent hours talking him down, that's rubbing it in." Sykes shot out his index finger like the barrel of a gun. "You've got a twenty-two pistol, Arnie. You shouldn't have left the slug in that dumb rabbit."

"What? What rabbit? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"He's not lying about that." Phoebe shook her head. "He doesn't know what they're talking about."

"Once we match the bullet and the gun, we'll have ourselves stalking and harassment charges. Breaks your probation. You'll do time. You'll go inside. No way your daddy's going to be able to dig you out this time."

"Leave my father out of this."

"You won't," Liz tossed back. "You'll be calling Daddy for help any minute. We'll match the bullets from the rabbit. Then there's the dead snake, the dead rat. Upped it from the doll you mutilated and left for her. I'm betting you upped it from wildlife to Roy Squire."

"I don't know anything about any damn dead rabbit."

"The doll," Phoebe said quietly, even as Sykes narrowed his eyes. "You know something about the doll, don't you? You got sweatier over the doll."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Messed up the doll like you'd planned to mess up the lieutenant," Sykes continued. "Rang her bell one night and left it outside her door. Then the dead rat, then right up to Roy Squire. Yeah, smells like pattern to me."

"That's bullshit. Maybe I tossed a doll by her house, so what? That was weeks ago, and I haven't gone near her place since. I haven't gone near MacNamara since…"

"Since you beat her in the stairwell?" Sykes finished. "Since you put a fucking bag over her head and stripped her down? You don't have any friends here, Arnie. Nobody wants to help you, so you keep lying. Makes me warm inside. You keep right on lying your way into a cage, and this time there's going to be a hotshot on the other side. There's a needle waiting for you, you sack of shit."

"You're out of your goddamn mind." Arnie was sheet white now, and running sweat. "I didn't kill anybody. I didn't shoot any damn rabbit either."

"We got motive, means, opportunity. Yeah, keep lying, fuckhead. You know how the DA loves it when a coward killer whines and lies. He'll go for the needle, no question."

"I didn't know the son of a bitch. I haven't been to Hilton Head where you said he lives. You can't put me there."

"Give us time. I was never happy, were you, Liz, with the way this asshole skated after messing with the lieutenant?"

"Me, I wanted to see him get some serious tuning on that. This time…"

"She's behind it." Arnie swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. "You know damn well. Trying to set me up, that's what she's doing. I saw the damn doll at a yard sale, just used it to give her something to think about. I didn't kill anyone, I haven't been to goddamn Hilton

Head. She's trying to fuck me over. She can go to hell. I wasn't anywhere near Bonaventure last night."

"Where were you, Arnie? Prove it, and make this go away."

"I got me a girlfriend, okay? My wife's not giving me any support, or any sex, or anything else. So I've got someone who will. I was with her last night at her place. And I was banging her until after two in the morning."

"Name." Liz shoved a notebook across the table. "Address. We'll ask her how much she got banged."

"She's got a husband, okay? He was up at Myrtle Beach playing golf for a few days, so we used her place. You've got to let me talk to her first, tell her this is serious shit so she won't blow it off. Her husband finds out, he'll knock her around. She has to know you're not going to use her name."

"Let you talk to her first, prime her?" Sykes snorted out derision. "Not going to happen, Arnie. You're telling the truth, we'll keep her out of it. Sounds like you deserve each other."

"My wife's already talking divorce, and all because MacNamara-"

"Oh yeah, all this is MacNamara's fault. Sure. She tricked you into busting her up just so you'd get tossed off the job. Write the name down, Arnie."

"She's an exec at Terrance, Inc. You go see her there, not at her place. You go talk to her at her office. You have to give me the courtesy of being discreet."

Sykes's eyes were hard as stone. "You lost the right to courtesy from anyone here when you jumped Lieutenant MacNamara in that stairwell.

You remember that, asshole. Ain't nobody on your side. You want to save yourself, you write down the name. Otherwise, you're going in on assaulting an officer and you're staying in until we put all these ducks in a row."

As he wrote, Phoebe turned to Dave.

"It wasn't him. He's a pig, and he's stupid with it. He didn't kill Charles Johnson or Roy. He hasn't got the stones or the smarts." She turned back to the glass. "He'd really like to hurt me. He'd still like to make me pay. But he wouldn't understand that killing that boy, that killing Roy, hurts me, that it makes me pay. He doesn't understand me at all. Whoever did those things does."