There was some commotion going on outside April Grant’s door. It was enough to rouse Jackson from the nap he’d been taking. He yawned, stretched a little, and sat upright, waiting. The door flew open. Two women stumbled into the hallway, hands hungrily roving flesh as they ripped at each other’s clothes. April propelled the other woman all the way into the apartment, slamming her against the wall, closing the door with her foot.

You go, girl. He never knew April had it in her.

Jackson crossed his arms over his tattered khaki jacket and tilted his head. He smiled. All that was missing really was the popcorn.

The two women continued their amorous adventure, oblivious to his presence as they gulped kisses. At one point, Jackson considered clearing his throat or something, but no, this was way too much fun.

April suddenly pushed the woman away, giving her a lecherous grin. “Let’s go to the bedroom where I can show you—” Then she stopped.

He surmised that April had spotted him out of the corner of her eye. When her hand went for her gun holster, Jackson jumped to his feet, hands in the air. “Whoa, whoa, you’re not going to shoot me, are you, April? They took my gun away, remember?”

The other woman looked from Jackson to April, a baffled expression on her flushed face as she hastily tried to pull her t-shirt down.

“What the hell are you doing here?” April demanded, coming closer. “And what’s with the get-up?”

Jackson motioned with his head to the woman who stood frozen a few feet away. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend before you interrogate me, Officer?”

April scowled at him. “You know who she is.”

She did seem familiar.

The woman stepped forward. “Verity Monk, fifteenth precinct. Who is this guy?” she asked April.

“No one,” April snapped.

Jackson laughed. “Thanks.”

“Have we met?” the other woman enquired. “Do you need help?”

“What he needs is a damn shrink,” April muttered under her breath.

Jackson put a hand on his heart as if she’d wounded him.

“Don’t worry, Verity.” April sighed. “He’s harmless. He’s just my partner, Jackson Blue, and he was just leaving.”

“Well, I won’t intrude any longer,” Jackson said. “I’ll just—”

“No,” Verity Monk said. “I’ll go.” She gave April a look of longing. “I have an early shift tomorrow anyway. Rain check?”

April walked with her to the door. They spoke quietly for a few minutes then Verity Monk left. April closed the door and turned around, hands on her hips. “What are you doing here, Jackson?”

“You are giving me the ugly face.”

“Where the hell have you been? You haven’t answered your phone in days.”

“Street people don’t have phones, usually.”

“Street people?” she repeated. “Great. And what’s with that horrible beard and those clothes? New fashion statement?”

“I’ve found him,” Jackson told her.

April indicated the open bottle of scotch sitting on the coffee table. “Looks like you found my liquor, too.”

Jackson picked up the bottle. “Want some?”

“Am I going to need some?” April demanded.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll get glasses.” April walked to the kitchen cupboards.

“So, really? A cop?” Jackson chuckled.

“Don’t give me any grief.” April pointed at him. She came back with the glasses. “You used to live with a cop.”

Jackson poured the liquor into the glasses. “Yeah, and you remember how that turned out.”

“It’s just sex,” she said, plopping on the sofa and tossing back the liquor.

“Heard that one before. Said it a few times myself, then you end up making them breakfast.”

She eyed him. “Never mind my sex life, or, thanks to you, lack thereof.”

“Can’t blame all of it on me.” He grinned.

“So, you found him, The Milker, or whatever it is he’s called.”

Jackson grinned. “The Drain, but I suppose The Milker would work, too.”

“So, that’s why you’ve forgotten what a razor and,” she sniffed the air, “a shower is for?”

“More or less.” Jackson swallowed some of the scotch. It was going down far too easily lately. Ever since he’d got suspended, his drinking had doubled.

“So, wait until you’re reinstated and haul his ass in. Is he still working the streets?” April asked.

“I think he’s still turning tricks but I’m not so sure he’s doing it on the street corner. He works as an erotic dancer.”

“A little old, isn’t he?”

“He looks super young for his age. The johns probably think he’s fifteen or so, but he’s at least nineteen. I know he has a special relationship with Manny the Saint. I’ve watched them together. Manny owns the dive where this guy dances. From what I’ve been able to find out, when Manny went underground, after Tyler was murdered, he took The Drain with him.”

“Boyfriend?” April asked as she held out her glass for a refill

“Let’s say, number one boy. I don’t think you could apply the label of boyfriend.” Jackson refilled her glass.

“So, Manny took this kid with him to keep him quiet about Tyler’s murder? Why didn’t he just kill him?”

“Probably would have drawn too much attention, raised red flags.”

“Um, you’re right. This Drain, he could have seen something.”

“For sure, he knows more about Manny than anyone else who might have been around at that time. The ones we could track down were all questioned after Tyler’s murder. No one was talking.”

“So, what are you going to do, Jackson?” She leaned forward. “You got to be careful. You’re on suspension. Your hearing is coming up soon. You got to keep out of trouble until then.”

Jackson laughed. “Who you talking to? Me in trouble?”

She rolled her eyes. “So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to pick him up, find out if he really is The Drain.” Jackson lifted an eyebrow a few times.