“What’s the matter, beloved Lieutenant, were you sleeping?” “Yes, damn it. Las Vegas may never sleep, but I do. I’m losing my shirt and my wife is doing even worse. Tomorrow I’ll have a hangover and I haven’t even been laid lately. What do you want now? Has it stopped snowing so I can come home?” “No, and maybe it never will and I don’t understand why you went all the way to Nevada to piss away your money when we’ve got so many perfectly good casinos right here. Y’know, you could really save a lot of time by simply flushing your money down a toilet.” “Screw you, Mikey.” Mike grinned into the phone. “Actually, I’ve got a question for you.” “Shoot.” “Why did you sic that nasty blonde television reporter on Chief Bench?” There was a moment’s silence, and DiMona began to laugh. “Gee, and here I thought I was being so sneaky.” “So you admit it? Hell, I was just guessing.” “Your guess was on target, Mikey. I did it and I’m proud. I called up a guy I know at her channel, told him about Bench and that he was a danger to mankind, and he said he was going to send her over since she lived only a couple of miles away and had access to a snowmobile.
