D is for Deadbeat by Sue Grafton Page A

dog-do on your shoe, you know? It’s not something you’d seek out.”
    â€œWho else did he know here in town?”
    â€œCan’t help you there. It’s not my week to keep track.”
    â€œWhat about your sister? Did he know her?”
    â€œCoral? No way. She don’t hang out with bums like that. I’d break her neck. I don’t get why you’re goin’ on and on about this. I told you I don’t know nothin’. I didn’t see him, didn’t hear from him. Why can’t you just take my word for it?”
    â€œBecause I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”
    â€œSays who? I mean, you came lookin’ for me, remember? I don’t have to talk to you. I’m doin’ you a favor.I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what the fuck you’re up to.”
    I shook my head, smiling slightly. “God, Billy. Such foul talk. I didn’t think you dealt with women that way. I’m shocked.”
    â€œNow you’re makin’ fun of me, right?” He scrutinized my face. “You some kind of cop?”
    I ran my thumbnail down the bottle, snagging an accordion strip of label, which I picked off. “Actually I am.”
    He snorted. Now he’d heard everything. “Come on. Like what,” he said.
    â€œI’m a private investigator.”
    â€œBullshit.”
    â€œIt’s a fact.”
    He tipped back in his chair, amused that I’d try to lay such a line on him. “Jesus, you’re too much. Who do you think you’re talkin’ to? I might have been born at night, but it wasn’t
last
night. I know the private eyes around town and you ain’t one, so try somethin’ else.”
    I laughed. “All right, I’m not. Maybe I’m just a nosy chick looking into the death of a man I once met.”
    â€œNow, that I’d buy, but it still don’t explain why you’re crankin’ on my case.”
    â€œYou introduced him to Lovella, didn’t you?”
    That stopped him momentarily. “You know Lovella?”
    â€œSure. I met her down in L.A. She has an apartment on Sawtelle.”
    â€œWhen was this?”
    â€œDay before yesterday.”
    â€œNo foolin’. And she told you to look me up?”
    â€œHow else would I know where you were?”
    He stared at me, going through some sort of mental debate.
    I thought a little coaxing might loosen his tongue. “Are you aware that Daggett’s been beating the shit out of her?”
    That made him restless and his eyes dropped away from mine. “Yeah, well Lovella’s a big girl. She has to learn how to take care of herself.”
    â€œWhy don’t you help her out?”
    He smiled bitterly. “I know people who’d laugh at the notion of me helping anyone,” he said. “Besides, she’s tough. You don’t want to underestimate that one, I’m tellin’ you.”
    â€œYou’ve known her a long time, haven’t you?”
    His knee had started to jump. “Seven years, eight. I met her when she was seventeen. We lived together for a while, but it didn’t work out. We used to knock heads too much. She’s a bullheaded bitch, but I loved her a lot. Then I got busted on a burglary rap and me and her, hell, I don’t know what it was. We wrote to each other for a while, but you can’t go back to something once it’s dead, you know? Anyway, now we’re friends, I guess. At least I dig her. I don’t know how she feels about me.”
    â€œHave you seen her recently?”
    The knee stopped. “No, I haven’t seen her recently,” he said. “What about you? Why’d you go down there?”
    â€œI was looking for Daggett. The phone was disconnected.”
    â€œWhat exactly did she say?”
    I shrugged. “Nothing much. I wasn’t there long and she wasn’t feeling that good. She was nursing a big black