Status Updates From Blossom (Burke, #5)

Not my kind of book/subject matter

"Burke…if he's in there…if you're so sure he's in there…why do you look so depressed?" "There's so many…so many. I can't bring it down too tight. I could miss him if I do. These reports are full of busted–up babies. Burned, beaten, crippled. Sexually abused. And every one of these files, they sent the kid home again. Everything all right again."

"It's a Zen exercise," I told Blossom. "Dark Zen. You have to cross over the line to where he is, you want to find him. I can do that."

They answered him. Tapped their whiskey glasses together, yelled "That's right!" up at the stage, groaned their encouragement. "And you threw her away, didn't you? You let her go. You gave up a used Cadillac for a new Ford, you know what I'm saying?" They knew.

"This is Blossom. At the diner?" "I'm here." Nothing in my voice. In my mind: how did she get the number? "I need to talk with you. Can you come by this afternoon? After closing? I get off at four." Not at six, like Cyndi? "Okay," is all I said. "Come around to the back. You…" "I know where it is."

Blossom came by, a tray in each hand. I chewed the tuna slowly, thinking about my target. A crash from the booth behind us. "Get your hands off me!" Blossom. I turned. The fat one had his hand under Blossom's skirt, laughing as she pounded at his face, warding her off easily with one hand.