this time. Free and clear. You can check it out, if you don’t believe me.”
“I called for professional reasons, Barry. Got your current caseload in front of you?”
“Margie, Margie, Margie. What is the rush?”
“I don’t chat when I’m on duty.”
“So how ’bout if we chat over drinks?”
Marge ignored him. “We picked up a little girl—around two, curly blond hair, brown eyes, height thirty-two inches, weight twenty-six pounds. I’ve got Polaroids and footprints I’d like to fax over to you. See if we come up with a match.”
“As long as the match is a love match between you and me, my Greek goddess.”
“Knock it off.”
Delferno said, “I love a woman who talks tough. It turns me on. Gets my blood boiling and my—”
“You’re wasting your breath.”
“All right. Be surly. I’ll get you anyway. In the meantime, send me the pics and the prints.”
Marge placed the information into the machine. She said, “Call me back when you’ve got them.”
“How about dinner? Tonight, even. Wait, tonight’s not good. How about tomor—”
“I’m hanging up now, Barry.”
“It’s not nice to alienate the hired help.”
Marge laughed and placed the receiver in its cradle. She poured herself a cup of coffee and waited for Delferno to call back. A few minutes later, her phone rang.
“Dunn,” she answered.
“Nothing,” Delferno said.
“Sure?”
“Positive. Never seen the little tyke. Was she abused?”
“Nope. She seemed to be very well cared for.”
“Foul play with the parents?”
“Could be,” Marge said. “We found blood on her pajamas. Ask around for me, Barry.”
“What do I get in return?”
“What do you want?”
“How about a weekend in Cabo San Lucas? We’ll four-wheel it down to Baja, dip our toes in the gentle warm oceano , and fish for yellowtail.”
“I don’t fish.”
“Then we can sunbathe on the white-sand beaches…no tan lines, Margie.”
“I’m involved with someone else, Barry,” Marge said.
Delferno paused. “I heard you broke up with Carroll.”
“Well, you heard wrong,” Marge lied. “You remember Carroll—six-six, two-sixty, hands as big as catchers’ mitts.”
“For chrissakes, why didn’t you tell me in the first place, Margie?”
“It slipped my mind. Kinda like your wife slipped yours a while back.”
Delferno paused, then said, “Was this whole thing a setup for revenge?”
Marge smiled. “Well, let me put it this way. If I’m ever interested, I’ll give you a call. Until then, give me and the kid a break and pass on the photo to your buddies. Maybe they’ve seen her.”
“If it means another chance at your body, Detective Dunn, I will do that. I like my women like my tales—long and tall.”
“I like my men like my good-byes—short.” She laughed and hung up the phone. Decker walked into the squad room.
“What’s so amusing?” he asked. “I could use a few giggles.”
“Delferno,” she said. “Same old lech.”
“Any luck with Sally?” inquired Decker.
“Zip. I told Barry to pass the picture along to his colleagues. I also tried the Missing Children Hotline. No one matching Sally’s description has been reported recently.”
Decker sighed. “Poor little kid. This has turned into a rotten day.”
“Worse than most?”
“Yeah, when it involves a two-year-old, it’s worse than most.”
Marge turned and faced him. “Lunch with your rape-o friend didn’t go so good?”
“Par for the course.”
“Did he do it?”
“He says no.”
“And you believe him?”
Decker paused, then nodded yes.
Marge said, “The friend in you says innocent, but the cop decrees guilty.”
“No,” Decker said. “I really don’t believe he did it.”
“Jesus,” Marge said. “What’s between you and that scumbag that’s turning your brain to mush? Did he save your life?”
“I told you no.”
“Then how do you owe him?”
“I’m not paying off a debt, Marge. I happen to think he’s