The Girl in the Cockpit

by Michael Avallone

  "—uh, okay—how does he look?"

  "Very unhappy. Something about you withholding evidence again. That gun. Ring a bell? Or are you still fuzzy?"

  "I just woke up. Ouch."

  "Pull yourself together now—will you—?"

  I sat up, smiled at the new morning, and reached for my robe. Some things never changed, for which you could always be grateful.

  Like cops mad at private eyes . . . Mike Monks burned with me.

  That always made sense, one way or another.

  "My, my," I told the room at large after Melissa had tripped out, humming to herself. "Here we go again."

  Anything was better than the Ricco mess.

  Anything at all.