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sure you can handle food before watching a corpse get sliced.”
    “I can handle it.”
    David didn’t mention the incident in the park. “Thai it is then.”
    “Great, I love Thai.” He seemed to be thinking about his earlier lunch. “Well, good Thai.”
    One of the waiters sidled over to their table. Both David and Jairo looked up at him. “You guys cops?” he asked.
    “There a problem?” David asked.
    “No, no, just that some folks saw your gun and they were concerned.”

    34 P.A. Brown
    David pulled his gold tin out and flashed it. Jairo did the same.
    They were being watched by nearly everyone now. David noticed a couple of females were showing an avid interest in Jairo. Badge bunnies? He also noticed Jairo wasn’t paying attention back. Maybe the rumors were lies after all.
    The bolder one approached their table. Her heavily made up face tried to look provocative. “You guys really off-duty cops?”
    “No sugar,” Jairo drawled. He leaned toward her and whispered, “We’re undercover vice, big drug bust coming down. You might want to make yourself scarce. Wouldn’t want your pretty ass to land in a cage full of dykes.”
    She flounced away. David laughed. “You better hope there isn’t any surveillance on the place, or you just compromised an operation. That could make you real popular with Professional Standards.”
    “Hadn’t thought of that,” Jairo didn’t sound the least bit chastened. “Promise you won’t tell? I won’t do it again.”
    “See you don’t,” David said, but he was still laughing.
    He got another beer, part of him all too aware that he was drinking too much, too fast. Jairo was barely into his second.
    He was going to have to take a cab home. But when he said that to Jairo, the younger man scoffed. “I’ve hardly had anything. I said I’d drop you off.”
    “Where do you live?”
    “Simi Valley.”
    A popular spot with cops. David frowned, “That’s really out of your way. A cab would be easier—”
    “Forget a cab. Those bastards soak you. I know, my brother drives a hack in Glendale.”
    David knew he should refuse, but he’d already made too many bone-headed choices today. Coming here was only the latest. Besides, what was wrong with relaxing a bit after work?
    Unlike a night out with Chris, where he could never talk about his job, or any of the ugliness he saw firsthand, Jairo did, and L.A. BONEYARD 35
    saw the same things he did every day. David nodded. He checked the clock behind the bar: after midnight. On the jukebox Billy Ray Cyrus sang “Redneck Heaven” and David could feel Jairo’s booted foot tapping on the wooden floor. He grinned when David met his gaze, and signaled the waiter to bring another beer.
    Jairo launched into a long, rambling account of a call he and his T.O. had gone out on. “It was a full moon, natch, and this woman calls 911, all hysterical. At least we thought she was a woman. She says her ex won’t stop coming around and bugging her. So we code three it out there, thinking we’re walking in on a domestic, wondering: is this guy armed? Are we gonna be met by some out-of-control Neanderthal, who just beat the crap out of this woman, and is just warming up for round two?”
    David took another swig of beer, and watched the way Jairo came to life in the retelling. He was really getting into this story.
    “So we roll, get to the place in record time and go charging into the house, sure we’re gonna find mayhem. She’s there, all alone.
    And she ain’t no woman. She’s the biggest dragon I’ve ever seen. Six-five even without the Jimmy Choos and the giant pink beehive. She—he—hell, I never know what to call them, is raving about this guy who won’t leave her alone. But he ain’t there.”
    “So what, the guy split?”
    Jairo grinned. “You’re gonna love this. We’re there, ready to rumble on this guy, right? She’s still hysterical. ‘Get him out of here,’ she yells. ‘He knows he’s not supposed to be