Free Polly Iyer - Diana Racine 03 - Backlash by Polly Iyer Page A

nothing more.”
    “That’s not why I’m here. I understand you’re friends with Dennis Chenault.”
    “Denny? Sure. We’ve gone out a few times.”
    “What can you tell me about him?”
    “He’s a cop. You should know more about him than I do.”
    “But not in the same way.”
    “We’ve gone out to dinner. Nice places.”
    “And after dinner?”
    “I didn’t realize cops beat around the bush so much. You want to know if we’ve had sex?”
    “I wouldn’t presume to ask,” Lucier said, feeling mildly uncomfortable now. He should have planned this interview more carefully instead of coming off like an altar boy.
    “But you want to know. Why?”
    He dodged the question with one of his own. “When was the last time you saw him?”
    “The other night. Tuesday, I think. He came to my show, and we went for a nightcap after. Then he took me home, we had sex, and he told me he didn’t want to see me again. The rat.”
    “Did he say why?”
    She stood up, stretched suggestively. Though Lucier tried not to notice, Cash was right. She was stacked and then some.
    “Men don’t dump me, Lieutenant. I usually dump them.”
    Lucier had conducted hundreds of interviews, and his gut told him there was more to the story. He tried again. “What reason did he give?”
    “Just that we were finished. I wasn’t in love with him or anything. There was always something missing, you know?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “I knew his reputation. Love ’em and leave ’em. Mostly with someone else’s wife. Like he didn’t want to commit. He always dumped them. Pretty shitty, if you ask me. But I’m single; he’s divorced. I thought, okay, let’s see what all the hoopla is about with this guy. But he … he needed kink to get off.”
    “Kink?” Jesus, he was acting like a rookie, or a dumb teenager. He knew what kink meant.
    She worried her bottom lip. “This won’t get back to him, will it?”
    “If he ever hears of our conversation, you’ll be the one to tell him.”
    “Well, since I won’t be seeing him anymore, I’ll tell you. He liked anal sex, and not only him into me.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “You know what a strap-on is?”
    The heat rose to Lucier’s face. He swallowed hard. “Yes.”
    “He liked it both ways, along with me going down on him. I’ve never experienced that before. I thought he might be ―”
    Lucier interrupted. “Gay?”
    “Or bi. He couldn’t get it up any other way, and believe me, I tried. He always got me off, but I wondered if he played kinky with all women or just me.” She crossed her long legs in a slow suggestive manner. “Some women think they can change a man, you know? But if he’s twisted like that, it ain’t happening. I gave him a go, though. Thing that makes me mad is him dumping me. I should’ve been the one.”
    Lucier wasn’t a prude, but this conversation had taken a path he didn’t expect. One more question. “Did he ever mention the downside of being a cop?”
    “Like what, specifically?”
    “Criminals getting off when they shouldn’t, or how easy it was for the bad guys to walk?”
    She thought, pursed her brightly painted red lips. “You mean like justice isn’t always just?”
    “Yeah.”
    “He didn’t talk shop much, but he mentioned that kind of thing once or twice.”
    Lucier rubbed his chin, nodded, and got up. He got what he came for. “Thanks for your candor. Detective Chenault won’t hear any of this from me.”
    She followed on his heels. “I didn’t even offer you a drink. Tea, water,” she paused, “something stronger?”
    “No thanks. I’d better be going.”
    “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant ― I forgot your name.”
    “Lucier.”
    “Luce ― Aren’t you the cop boyfriend of that psychic? You were in the paper after the piano player was killed, right?”
    “Um, yes and yes.”
    “Whoa, talk about weird.”
    “Not really.” Lucier was getting sick and tired of people telling him how strange it must be having