Solitary Dancer Read Online Free Page A

step back into the club, glanced at the stage. Terri was showing her ass to the thin early crowd, bending over, touching her toes. “You comin’ in?”
    The black guy didn’t answer at first, just leaned back to look around the building to where the fire escape came down to the alley. “Some other time maybe,” he said.
    â€œMy name’s Billie, you want to ask for me,” she said. She pulled the robe tighter across her chest. The cold had made her nipples hard and they poked against the fabric.
    â€œSure.” He flashed her a smile, put his hands in the pockets of his topcoat. “Maybe I will.”
    â€œSon of a bitch is pullin’ a number on me.”
    Phil Donovan hitched his trousers a little higher over his narrow hips and tightened his belt a notch.
    Fat Eddie Vance watched silently, holding a pencil by its ends, twirling it slowly.
    â€œHe sends me for errands, he tells me nothin’. Thinks I’m still a whistle.” Donovan waved his arms in angry gestures, looked around and collapsed into a chair in front of the captain’s desk.
    â€œHe
is
the senior partner,” Vance said.
    â€œOkay, okay, but we’re both lieutenants. I’m acting, I know that, but when it gets final and I’m full louie I’m definitely not takin’ his shit anymore.”
    Fat Eddie sighed. He opened the top drawer of his desk where a dozen pencils identical to the one in his hand lay waiting, their points sharpened, all facing in the same direction, like bullets in an ammo belt. “I can’t give you a transfer yet. You know that. It would disrupt all the other teams.” He added the pencil he had been holding to his cache and closed the drawer.
    â€œI know, I know,” Donovan muttered. “Just tell Fox to keep his black ass out of my way, that’s all. He leaves me to write up the report on my own and now I gotta go down, watch Doitch do the broad’s autopsy while he’s out suckin’ back a beer or something.”
    Vance raised his eyebrows. “He didn’t tell you where he was going?”
    â€œNot a goddamn word.”
    Fat Eddie frowned. “He’s gone to talk to McGuire. If he can find him.”
    Donovan snapped his head around, the anger about to overflow again. “His old buddy? On his own? What’s he doin’, talkin’ to a number one suspect and not tellin’ me?”
    Fat Eddie leaned back in his chair. “Did you finish writing your investigation report?”
    Donovan nodded, staring off in the distance.
    â€œAnd did Doitch specifically ask you to be present for a review of the autopsy findings?”
    â€œNaw, that was Fox’s idea.”
    â€œThen you needn’t go. There’s no regulation that says the investigating detectives have to be present for the autopsy, unless there are special circumstances.” Vance opened another desk drawer and removed an unopened bottle of Maalox, keeping it from Donovan’s view.
    â€œSo what do I do? Sit around here tryin’ to guess what model of Louisville Slugger the guy used on her?”
    â€œYou’ve got a solid suspect, haven’t you?”
    Donovan looked back at Vance, his blue Irish eyes narrowing.
    â€œPut a bulletin out on McGuire if Fox hasn’t done it yet,” Vance said. “If Fox finds McGuire on his own, fine. If not, maybe when he gets back, he’ll find him here. Either way, you’re getting somewhere.”
    â€œThat’s comin’ right from you, huh?”
    â€œYou just heard it.”
    Donovan stood up. “Tim’ll be pissed,” he said. His freckled face was creased with a grin.
    â€œHe’ll get over it. Besides, Tim has problems being a team player. I’ve been meaning to mention it to him. Maybe this will make my point.”
    â€œActually, I thought about doin’ that, puttin’ out a metro call,” Donovan said, reaching the door in three