of drunks. She felt slightly sluttish at how brazen she was being. She smiled to herself. Brazen. Now there was a Harlequin-romance word. She had been having a mild flirtation with the man for months, but she didn’t know him well. She knew that he was from Alabama, wasn’t a very good writer, and needed to learn Associated Press style. He also didn’t quite have the knack with women. His movements were always a bit off. He was the kind of guy who needed a set of sex instructions: insert tab A into slot B. But he had sweet lips. She planned to kiss him. Maybe a lot. But that was all. She needed a distraction from her messed-up life, not an addition to it.
The waitress returned with Lucy’s next drink—a screaming orgasm. Lucy took a big swig out of the glass and poured the rest of her snakebite into it. She mixed the two drinks into one, slopping some liquor over the side.
The sports reporter asked what she was doing. Lucy smiled. A hard smile. “I’m making a new drink. I’m calling this one the Scanner Lady.” Lucy winced at the taste as the drink hit her throat. But she tipped it back farther and kept gulping, not stopping until the dregs were running down her blouse.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thursday Morning
The police station was freezing when Gil got there just after eight A.M. The receptionist told him that the repairmen were working on the heat. He kept his coat on as he dialed his mother’s number.
She answered on the fifth ring. “Mom, I’m going to go buy a new blood-sugar machine for you today. I’ll bring it over later.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, hito. Aunt Sally is bringing mine back. I told her how upset you are about it.”
“Okay. But you have to do the test as soon as you get the machine back and call me with the number.” She didn’t say anything and they hung up.
Next, Gil called Pollack to make his morning report. He didn’t have much to tell. Pollack answered with a cheery “Good morning.” Gil told him about his interviews from the day before. Pollack said little, not giving Gil even an idea of where their investigation was headed. He told Gil to stay focused on what had happened during the hour before Melissa had gotten home. Pollack was saying, “Okay, thanks, good-bye,” when Gil asked, “Did you get the autopsy results?”
Pollack hesitated. “Yes, we did, but I’m afraid that information is being restricted, Gil. Sorry.” The state police had agreed to release information to him, but only on a case-by-case basis.
“Can I ask why?”
“We don’t want it getting into the hands of the media.” That intrigued Gil. The autopsy must have turned up something. “Could you at least tell me the cause of death?”
Gil heard Pollack put his hand over the receiver and say something to someone in the background. When he got back on the phone, all he said was, “I’m afraid not.”
“How about the toxicology results?”
“We don’t have that yet, but when we do, the answer will probably be no. You know how it is. If it wasn’t for that damn press leak, I could tell you. Sorry.”
Gil hung up and called the OMI, but the clerk told him that access to the file was restricted. Gil tried getting around the clerk by calling all the medical investigators he knew. He left five messages.
He spent the next hour calling other officers at the state police, the Taos Sheriff’s Department, and the Taos police. They were just as frustrated as Gil. Pollack wasn’t releasing the information to anyone.
At nine thirty A.M., Lucy locked her front door and got into her car, pulling on her leather gloves in the cold.
It was a little too early for her to be out of the house, but her hangover had had her up at 7:58 A.M., and now the headache was keeping her awake. Her search under the bathroom sink had yielded only an empty bottle of Pamprin.
She remembered little of the night before, although she was fairly sure that she had done some almost-illegal things with the sports reporter in the parking lot of the bar. She hoped he wouldn’t call her. Sort of. She needed to stop getting drunk. Really. She was getting pathetic.
She went to Albertsons to get some aspirin and spent five minutes reshelving two oranges and some toilet paper. On her way home, she decided to make a detour.
She parked her car across