Distemper by Beth Saulnier

right back.”
    “Alex, goddamn it, you’re supposed to call for an escort if you’re alone.”
    “But they’re coming back in, like, twenty minutes.”
    “If I had my way you’d have round-the-clock surveillance, but at this point, we can’t justify the money.”
    “Not until my head is actually separated from the rest of my body. I know.”
    “Don’t joke.”
    “What are you doing here anyway?”
    “I was on my way home and I noticed yours was the only car in the driveway, and no cop car either.”
    “Hmm. That’s very interesting. You said that the last time you were here, that you stopped by on your way home. But you know
     what, Cody? I did a little investigative reporting, and I found out your apartment is on the other side of town from the station
     house. So what gives?”
    Those freckles of his started a slow burn. “You caught me. Uncle. I was checking up on you.”
    “I didn’t know you cared.”
    “You’re my responsibility.”
    “How do you figure that?”
    “You fell over. I was the one who caught you.”
    “So it’s a karma thing.”
    “Yeah. You got another Guinness for me?”
    I went into the kitchen and when I got back to the living room I could see him casting about for a place to sit that didn’t
     look like it was going to sprout a tail. He finally settled on the arm of the couch next to Shakespeare, who looked up long
     enough to see if he happened to be carrying a steak. “Am I interrupting you? If you’re in the middle of cooking, I can entertain
     myself until your roommates get back.”
    “I just threw four loaves of banana bread in the oven. It takes over an hour, so there’s nothing I can do with the rest until
     then.”
    “How many are you making?”
    “Eight.”
    “You feeding an army?”
    “At the
Monitor
, it’ll last an hour.”
    “Smells good.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “Mind if I smoke?”
    “You smoke? But you’re such a square.”
    “Not much. Only when I have a beer. I smoke, I drink.”
    “You didn’t last time.”
    “I was trying to be polite. So can I smoke?”
    “Outside. It’s a nonsmoking house. Emma smokes Dunhills sometimes, but only out on the back porch.”
    “Are you serious? Look at this place. I’ve never seen so much dog hair that wasn’t connected to a dog. I’ve got clumps on
     my tongue. And I can’t smoke in here?”
    “We all have our foibles.”
    “It’s freezing out.”
    “So don’t smoke.”
    “Is my mother paying you?”
    “No, but if she’d like to, I could use the money.”
    “Okay, you win. Sorry if I’m being rude. I’m just jonesing for nicotine.”
    “Is this a cop thing?”
    “No. Maybe. Probably it’s the case.”
    “Can you talk about it?”
    “Course not. You don’t smoke?”
    “Used to. A lot. But now I equate smoking with hysteria.”
    “How so?”
    “When I got upset about a guy, I’d smoke. Then I got so upset over a guy, no amount of nicotine did any good. So I figured,
     what’s the point? Packed it up. Haven’t smoked since.”
    “And you don’t crave it?”
    “Nope.”
    “Lucky. So who was the guy?”
    “How do you men in blue like to put it? ‘No comment.’ “
    “Not very sporting.”
    “It was somebody who died, okay? Now drop it.”
    “Adam Ellroy?”
    The name hit me like a sockful of nails. All of a sudden I wanted to punch him, and for no good reason. “If you already knew,
     why did you ask?”
    “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see if you’d tell me.”
    “Power trip?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Is
that
a cop thing?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Too bad. Because I’m much more interested in scoping out other people than spilling my own guts.”
    “You already know my life story. Now it’s your turn. Cops like grilling people too, you know. Best part of the job.”
    “Why are you so curious?”
    “Truth? I have no idea. I just am.”
    I got up and went to the coat closet, pulled a beach towel off the top shelf, and spread it out on the couch to