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“The report,” Jazz said. “You still haven’t seen them make the drop?”

“I think that’s what it says in my last report, why, yes.. And let me ask again why I’m the one wearing a sloppy green apron and emptying trash cans and scrubbing toilets? Is this a commentary on my national heritage?”

“It’s a commentary on the fact that you agreed to take this crappy industrial espionage case, not me,” Jazz replied. “I like the background checks.”

“You like the divorce cases,” Lucia said gloomily.

“I like easy work where I don’t get shot. So, are these guys just smarter than you, or what?”

“You know, if you’re trying to piss me off, that’s not very difficult when my eyes are burning from cleaning products, and I’m contemplating how men always miss the urinals.”

“I like you better pissed off.”

“Love you, too,” Lucia said. “Two more days and I’m out of here, and thenyoucan come and show them how to scrub a bathroom while I call you and make taunting remarks about your detective skills.”

Jazz hung up without a response.

“We’re losing money on that one, boss,” Pansy said. “Two weeks of her time? Unless she brings in the whole pig, not just the bacon—”

“I know.” Jazz nodded at the check in Pansy’s hand. “Covers expenses, right?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a bonus coming. Oh, and boss?” Pansy hesitated, then blurted out, “He called again.”

“He?” Like Jazz didn’t know.

“Ex-boss.”

Ex-bossmeant James Borden, of course. “Did you hang up on him? Insult him using lots of short Anglo-Saxon words?”

“Ilikehim,” Pansy said mournfully. “Do you, you know, have to—”

“Make him suffer? Yes, Pansy, I do. It’s my job. And it gives me such a nice, warm glow of satisfaction, too.” Jazz piled mail on top of the heavy DeMontis folder and headed toward her office. “If he calls again, tell him—”

“He’s coming.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to look at Pansy, who had the grace to seem embarrassed. “Repeat that.”

“He’s on a plane,” Pansy explained. “He’s going to be here in a couple of hours, tops.”

“You told him I wouldn’t talk to him?”

“Boss, I’ve told him a thousand times. Which is, you know, how many times he’s actually called, and you’d think somebody at GPL would start tracking those phone charges, wouldn’t you?”

“If he shows up, call Security,” Jazz said grimly, and walked into her office.

Pansy called, “Want me to make reservations? Someplace nice?”

Jazz slammed the door with a kick, and heard a muffled “Okay, guess not,” through the wood. She snorted back a laugh.

Borden, coming here. Jazz dropped folder and mail onto her desk, and sank down in her chair. She picked up a catalog and flipped through it. She stared blankly at the latest in tasers and rubber bullets for crowd control.

Pansy opened the door without knocking, sailed in and slammed a cup of coffee down on Jazz’s desktop. Jazz looked up, surprised.

“I know, you told me I’d never have to get coffee,” Pansy said, “but honestly, don’t you think you should at least talk to him?”

“I don’t want coffee, and why the hell would I do that?” Jazz asked. She tried to go back to her law-enforcement catalog.

“Because he’s a total hottie who’s obviously crazy in love with you?” Pansy took the catalog out of her hands and handed her a copy ofElle.“Here. Try to find something that looks like it didn’t come out of the gang-banger collection.”