The Crush Part 48

Wick pulled out a chair at the opposite end of the table, turned it around, and straddled it backward. He glared at the little man. "So you're the sniveling little s.h.i.+t who's been doing Lozada's research."

The diminutive man seemed to shrivel even smaller.

He looked over at Oren. "Why's he here?"

"He's here because I invited him."

"What for?"

"So he could hear what you have to tell us."

Weenie swallowed hard. He squirmed in his seat. "I...

I've been thinking about it. It's not too smart for me to be here and talking to you without a lawyer."

"Come to think of it, you're right," Oren said. "Maybe you'd better go hire you one. When you do, give us a call."

He made to stand.

"Wait, wait!" Weenie divided another nervous glance between them. "If I get a lawyer is the deal still on?"

Wick practically came out of his chair. "Deal?" He looked at Oren. 'You made a deal with this d.i.c.khead?"

"Remember, Wick, you're only here because you promised not to interfere."

"Well you promised that this a.s.shole was our ticket to getting Lozada."

"I think he is. But not without--"

"A deal," Wick said, fuming. "What did you offer him?"

"Immunity from prosecution."

He swore under his breath. "That's bulls.h.i.+t. That's what that is."

"Then what's your idea?"

Wick gave Weenie a scornful once-over. "He's a little

too big to throw back. Why don't we bread him in cornmeal and deep-fry him?"

Sweat popped out on Weenie's face. He looked wildly

at Oren. "He's crazy! Everybody says so. Lozada says so.

Lozada says he went 'round the bend when his brother died."

In a blur of motion, Wick practically vaulted the length of the table. He lifted Weenie out of his chair by his scrawny neck and pushed him backward, hard up against the wall, and held him there. The little man squealed like a trapped mouse.

"My brother didn't die."

"Wick, have you lost your mind? Let him go!"

"He was murdered, you puny little c.o.c.ksucker."

"Wick, I'm warning you."

"Murdered by your pal Lozada."

Weenie's face had turned beet red. His feet danced uselessly a few inches above the floor. He rolled terrified eyes toward Oren. The detective had hold of Wick's arm, trying to break his grip on Weenie's neck.

"Wick, you're going to kill him. Let him go," he said, straining the words through clenched teeth. He literally tried to peel Wick's fingers from around Weenie's neck.

When that didn't work, when Weenie's eyes began to bug out of his head, Oren rammed his elbow into Wick's ribs.

His breath whooshed out. Immediately he released Weenie, who sank to the floor. Cursing expansively and holding his injured right side, Wick bent double.

Oren was breathing hard. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you, but G.o.ddammit, you just never learn, do you?"

Weenie remained crouched on the floor, whimpering, but their attention was on each other, not on him.

Wick straightened up, gasping with the effort. 'You do that again and I'll--"

"Shut up and listen, Wick. For once. Listen." Oren took

several breaths to control his own temper. "You're still having issues with anger management."

Wick laughed. "Issues? Anger management? Where'd you hear that? On Oprah?"

Oren shouted over him. "Has your rage blinded you to the fact that you're making the same mistake you made before?

You want Lozada to escape prosecution again, you go right on doing what you're doing."

Thigpen opened the door and cautiously poked his head inside. "Everything okay in here?"

"None of your G.o.dd.a.m.n business!" Wick roared.

Oren told him everything was fine.

"What's the matter with him?" The detective was looking at Weenie, who was still on the floor, mewling and wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"He's okay."

Thigpen gave a dubious shrug, then withdrew and pulled the door closed after him.

Wick continued as though there'd been no interruption.

"I've got a temper. I admit it. What you refuse to admit is that when it comes to Lozada, you've got no b.a.l.l.s, Oren."

"Speaking of b.a.l.l.s, yours should be good and blue by now."

Sparks shot from Wick's eyes. His hands formed fists at his sides. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing."

"No. Oh, no. We're way past insinuations. Why don't you come right out and say what's on your mind?"

"Okay. You're sleeping with a suspect. Aren't you?"

"If you're referring to Rennie Newton, yes. I am. And loving every second of it. But she's not a suspect."

"I haven't eliminated her as a suspect in the murder of Dr. Howell, Have you forgotten about that?"

"It was Lozada."

"Who could have been hired by her."

"He wasn't."

"Did she ever tell you about that card that she kept in her nightstand?"

'The enclosure card? I found it, remember?"

"Right, right. It came with the roses that Lozada sent her."

Wick spread his arms wide and shrugged. "What's your point?"

"I'm curious is all. When she discovered that Lozada was the sender of those roses, why didn't she tear up the card? Destroy it along with the flowers. Throw it away."

"She was saving it as evidence."

"Or as a keepsake. See, after I dismissed it as evidence, she took it back. Far as I know she still has it."

Wick thought about that for maybe a split second, then shook his head emphatically. "She despises Lozada. He gives her the creeps."

"Yeah, so she's said. Tell me, Wick, did you start believing her before or after she screwed your brains out?"

Wick advanced a step. "I warned you once, Oren. Now I'm telling you for the last time, if you ever want to call yourself my friend again, if you ever called my brother your friend, you won't make remarks like that about Rennie.

Ever."

Oren didn't back down. "Funny you should mention Joe. Because if he were here, he'd be telling you the same

thing. He'd be the first to tell you that you're over the line.

You can't be both cop and lover boy to a suspect."

"She's not a suspect," Wick repeated loudly. "She's a victim."

'You sure? You seem to have forgotten that she shot a man."

"She didn't."

"What?" Oren exclaimed.

"She didn't shoot Raymond Collier. Her father killed him. She took the blame."

"Why?"

"Because T. Dan told her to."

Oren barked a laugh. "You believe that?" He laughed again. "She gives you this sob story that n.o.body can corroborate and you believe her?"

"That's right."

"Uh-huh. And when she told you this, was she blowing in your ear? Or just plain blowing you?"

Wick launched himself at Oren and both flew backward onto the floor. Weenie shrieked. Wick landed a few punches, but he wasn't anywhere near up to full strength and Oren had always been the heavier and stronger of the two. He fought back with a vengeance and without deference to Wick's injury.

When he had Wick somewhat subdued, he struggled to his knees and pulled his service revolver from his shoulder holster. He pointed it down at Wick. Tears of pain smarted in his eyes, but he could see the bore of Oren's handgun clearly enough.

Upon hearing the commotion, several other plainclothesmen rushed into the room. "Back out!" Oren ordered.

"Everything's under control."

"What happened?"

"Just a little misunderstanding. It stays in this depart

ment, understood?" When no one said anything, he shouted, "Understood?"

There were murmurs of consent.