Moon Music

The bartender tried to hide his glee. “Or if there’s something else—”

“Italian sounds fine, Nathan.”

Two girls roosted next to Patricia’s right. She moved three stools over. “Better if people don’t hear us.”

Malealani said, “It’s past ten. Gonna start to get crowded. I guess I should let you do your thing.”

But he paused.

Not wanting to let her go.

She said, “I don’t think I ever told you my name.”

“It’s on your card.”

“Still, that’s no introduction.” She stuck out her hand. “Patricia Deluca. Most people call me Fat Patty.”

Nate laughed. “How ’bout just Patty?”

“That’s fine, too. I really should talk to your friend.”

Malealani called out, “Hey, Big Ray.” Beckoned him with a finger. “Want you to meet someone.”

Big Ray stopped wiping the counter, froze, turned, stared, then lumbered forward. Not an ounce of fluidity in the man. Each physical action was done in a separate, robotic movement.

Like Nate, Big Ray was Melanesian. He wore an untucked blue rayon shirt over a pair of jeans. He looked like he was ready to bowl. He eyed Patricia, licked his lips. He nodded.

Malealani said, “This is Detective Deluca. She’s looking for someone.”

Patricia offered a handshake. “How’s it going, Big Ray?”

Ray took it, his face as animated as a tile of slate.

“Who are you looking for?”

To Patricia, Malealani said, “You have the picture, don’t you?”

Yes, Nate, I have the picture. She took out the photograph, showed it to Big Ray. “I’m with Homicide. This woman was found dead last night. Nate said you might have served her.”

Big Ray said, “Yeah, I did.”

Patricia almost fell off the stool. In the back of her cynical mind, she had suspected that Nate had been jiving her. But things were falling into place.

First the three cherries.

Now this.

Too much good luck. So when was it going to crash?

She took out her notebook. “You’re sure it was this woman?”

Without hesitation, Big Ray said he was sure. “She didn’t look this good. But the face was the same.”

“What did she look like?” Patricia asked.

“I dunno. Just not good. Young but old.” He looked around the room. “Belonged to the kind of women you’d find here. Like they’ve lived their lives in a trash compactor.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“Came in alone. But she hooked up with someone pretty quick.”

Malealani asked, “Who?”

“The young guy,” Ray answered.

“The young guy?”

“Yeah, the young guy. He was short.”

“Short?”

“Yeah, he was pretty short.”

Patricia stopped writing, looked up. “Like how short?”

Big Ray marked off an area on his chest with the side of his hand. “Came up to about here.”

Eyeballing it, maybe around five-eight or -nine. Patricia said, “What did he look like?”

Big Ray said, “Besides being short?”

“Yes.”

Malealani said, “I don’t remember no short guy.”

Shut up, Nathan! Patricia said, “What did he—”

“He drank Dewar’s straight up,” Big Ray said. “You don’t ’member him?”

Malealani scrunched up his eyes. “That guy?”

“Yeah, him.”

Patricia said, “You remember him, Nate?”

“Sorta.” To Big Ray, Nate said, “So he’s the guy who was with the girl?”

“Yeah.”