Eve caught a drift in the air of very old onions and the shadow of an illegal usually consumed by smoking. "If we decide a search is in order," Eve told Peabody, "we've got probable cause."
"What, suspicion of toxic waste?"
"There's that." Eve toed what might have been underwear aside. "He's been pumping Zoner, probably as a bedtime soother. You can just smell it."
Peabody sniffed. "I just smell sweat and onions."
"It's there."
Donnie Ray walked back in, his eyes slightly clearer, his face red and damp from a quick splash. "Sorry about the mess. Droid's year off. What's this about?"
"Do you know Marianna Hawley?"
"Marianna?" His brow wrinkled in thought. "I dunno. Should I?"
"You matched with her through Personally Yours."
"Oh, the dating gig." He kicked clothes out of the way then dropped into a chair. "Yeah, I gave that a shot a few months back. I was in a drought." He smiled a little, then shrugged. "Marianna. Was she a big redhead -- no, that was Tanya. We hit it off pretty well, but she moved to Albuquerque for Christ's sake. I mean what rocks there?"
"Marianna, Donnie Ray. Slim brunette. Green eyes."
"Yeah, yeah, now I get her. Sweet. We didn't click, too much like, well, a sister. She came to the club where I was blowing and heard me, we had a couple of drinks. So?"
"You ever watch the screen, read the paper?"
"Not when I've got a steady gig. I'm booked with a group downtown at the Empire. Been doing the ten-to-four slot for the last three weeks."
"Seven nights on?"
"No, five. You blow seven nights, you lose the edge."
"How about Tuesday night?"
"I'm off Tuesday. Mondays and Tuesdays are clear." His eyes were focused now and just beginning to go wary. "What's the deal?"
"Marianna Hawley was murdered Tuesday night. You got an alibi for Tuesday from nine to midnight?"
"Oh, shit. Shit. Murdered. Jesus H." He sprang up, stumbling over debris as he paced. "Man, that bites. She was a sweetheart."
"Did you want her to be your sweetheart? Your true love."
He stopped pacing. Eve found it interesting that he didn't look frightened or angry. He looked sorry. "Look, I had a couple of drinks with her one night. A little talk, tried to convince her to take a harmless roll, but she wasn't into it. I liked her. You couldn't help but like her."
He pushed his fingers against his eyes, then ran them back into his hair again. "That was, hell, six months ago, maybe more. I haven't seen her since. What happened to her?"
"Tuesday night, Donnie Ray."
"Tuesday?" He rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know. Hell, who remembers? I probably did a few clubs, some hanging. Lemme think a minute."
He closed his eyes, blew out a couple of breaths. "Tuesday I went down to Crazy Charlie's and heard this new band."
"Did you go with anybody?"
"A few of us started out together. I don't know who ended up at Crazy's. I was pretty wasted by then."
"Tell me, Donnie Ray, what did you buy the full product line of Natural Perfection for? You don't look like the type to paint up."
"What?" He looked baffled, then dropped into the chair again. "What the hell is Natural Perfection?"