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“There was a dead girl down there night before last.” Still relaxed and slow, he sets his beer down and peeks across at me through milky brown eyes. “Heard about what happened, then I saw her on the news last night. I saw you and Fletch at the scene.”
I raise a single, demanding brow. “You were at my crime scene, Garzman? Makes me wonder if you’ve contaminated it and will end up hanging for the crime yourself.”
“No. I wasn’t there. I seen you on the news,” he explains. “You was on the TV, so I knew you were my go-to on this one.”
“Go-to for what?”
“To tell you about the shit I overheard,” he explains impatiently. “Damn, Malone. You’re not keeping up.”
“No, I’m keeping up just fine. I just don’t have faith in the shit you’re spewing. The last time you called us down to talk to you, I followed your word into an abandoned building and almost lost my head.” I tilt mine now and smirk. “A cynical guy might wonder if you set it up that way on purpose.”
“No! I didn’t—” Panicked, he looks over to Fletch. “I gave you the information I had. No tricks. No lies.”
“Alright, well…” Fletch speaks slowly. Lazily. “Give us what you got now and redeem yourself. No tricks.”
“I heard about the guy.”
“Which guy?” I demand.
“The guy! The one who hurt the girl.”
“One girl?” The media has already connected the two of them, so I don’t bother withholding. “You’re already fifty-percent short on your intel, Garz. Not a great start.”
“No! Just wait.” He swings around and places his hand on my sleeve. “Just… gimme a sec. Geez.” He looks back to Fletch, since he’s nicer and all. “So I heard there was a guy down by the bay a week ago. Like he was exploring the area.”
“Okay…?” Fletch’s eyes flicker across Garzo’s face. “We need more than that.”
“He was asking who lives in the area. Who sleeps where and whatnot. He says to one of the guys he was looking to bring his girl down for date night, but he didn’t wanna be someplace they would be seen.”
“Still sounds kinda legit,” I counter. “Dudes often wanna take their girls out at night. Privacy isn’t a special request.”
“Becomes kinda special when the guy’s taking her to that putrid part of the bay,” he argues. “That’s not for romance, Malone. And just a few nights later, a dead girl is dumped there. Connect the dots, Detective. It ain’t that hard.”
He’s not wrong. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna show my hand so obviously.
“Who’d he speak to?”
Finally, Garzo’s lips curl into a grin. “You believe me.”
“I believe in doing my job, so if someone talked to the guy, then I need to find out who they are.”
“I’m gonna need a little grease for that much information.” Rubbing his hands together, Garzo opens one and lays it palm side up on the bar. “Ya know, for my time and effort.”
“Alternatively,” I murmur slowly, “I could bring you down to the station and put you in a twenty-four hold. You have information on an active homicide investigation, Anthony Garzman. And we all know taking cash from cops makes you a dirty snitch who won’t survive the streets if word got around we dragged you in.”
Unhappy, the sunken-cheeked man pouts. “You don’t have to play me dirty like that, Detective. Every single time I’ve given you information, it’s been in good faith. I’m a good guy! I never sent you anywhere to be hurt.”
“Such pretty words.” I look down at his open palm and stare until he closes it again. “I’m sure you would’ve said other pretty shit at my funeral when your intel got me shot. Give us this, Garzo. Show us you can be trusted. Then maybe next time, we’ll fund your drinking habit.”
He studies me for a moment, then Fletch. This is a man who drinks more than he eats, and what he has to sell today, I’m demanding for free.
“Perrone,” he finally relents on a sigh. “Alastair Perrone. He doesn’t have a fixed address, but he’s always hanging out by the pier. Short, stocky dude. Five-seven, hundred and eighty pounds. He has dark hair with silver fanning through.”
“Age?”
“About mine,” he grumbles. “He’ll talk to you, but he’ll want a few dollars for his time. This is how we survive,” he adds when I raise a brow. “It’s how we get through another day.”
“Alright.” I push up to stand and clap his shoulder. “Thanks.” Then I look at Fletch. “Let’s go find Perrone.”
