Incubus Dreams   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

He was either well under twenty-five, or needed to eatmore. “What club do you work at, then?”

Micah looked at me. The look said, help me.

I tried. “Deputy,” I said.

He looked at me. His eyes flicked to the badge in my hand, but since his boss hadn’t been too impressed with the badge, it was hard for him to be impressed, either. The boss sets the tone. He had pale bluish eyes. They weren’t friendly, almost mean. “I’m questioning a witness here.”

I smiled and tried to push it all the way up into my eyes, but probably didn’t manage it. “I see that, but, Deputy,” and I read his name tag, “Patterson, the witness has answered your question several times.”

“He won’t tell me where he works.”

“You never asked where I worked,” Micah said.

Deputy Patterson looked back at him, pale eyes narrowed in what he probably thought was a hard look. It wasn’t. “I did ask where you worked, and you won’t answer.”

“You asked what club I work for, I do not work at a club of any kind. I do not strip for a living, is that clear enough?” Micah asked.

His voice had an edge of impatience. He was one of the most easygoing people I knew. What had Patterson been saying to put that tone in Micah’s voice?

Patterson’s face showed that he didn’t believe it. He was really going to have to work on the blank cop face, right now everything he thought spilled across his face. “Then what were you doing inside this place?” A look of near evil joy crossed his face. “Oh, I get it. You like to look at other people’s beans and wienies.”

“Beans and wienies,” I said, “what the fuck does that mean?”

“Dick and balls,” he said, with a tone that implied everyone knew that.

Micah looked at me, and even through the dark glasses, I could picture the look. I was beginning to see what had gotten on his nerves.

“Patterson, I allowed you to question my friends out of courtesy.

This is my crime scene, not yours, and if you can’t ask a single question that could help us solve this crime, then you need to go somewhere else.”

I don’t know what he would have said, but I felt Sheriff Christopher coming up behind me, even before I saw the look of satisfaction on the deputy’s face. His look said clearly that the sheriff would sort me out, and he’d enjoy a ringside seat.

Patterson said, “He won’t tell me where he works, Sheriff. Says he’s not a stripper. Says he just came to watch a little fag wag.”

I made a small sound in my throat. “I’m going to say this just one more time.