Page List


Font:  

“In that case, No comment,” I said as I leaned across her and opened her door. “Good sob story, by the way. I almost fell for it. The first three times you used it. You should update it. Toss in a dying roommate or something.”

“You really are heartless, aren’t you?” Calvin said.

“Heartless, yes. A sucker, no,” I said. “If it bleeds, it leads, right, Cathy? This one is most definitely bleeding. The last thing I’m worried about is your job security.”

She gave me a thin smile.

“Fine, fine. I like you, too, by the way, Mike. Hard enough as it is to believe. What’s that cologne you’re wearing? I like it.”

I sniffed. It was some Axe body soap one of my kids had left in the sand-covered shower back at Breezy. It actually did smell pretty good. I knew she was just yanking my chain to get an angle on the case. Or was she?

“Cathy, you seem like a nice enough young woman,” I said. “You’re educated. You dress nice. I thought covering cops was just a stepping-stone to better things. Is it the street cred? You have a thing for dead bodies? You ever ask yourself?”

“Come to dinner with me and find out, Mike,” Calvin said, checking her makeup in my rearview. “I’ll tell you the long, sad story of my life over a bottle of Irish wine. I’m partial to Jameson myself.”

Then she gave me a naughty-girl stare for a few seconds. Cathy was a tall, slim blonde with soft green eyes. I couldn’t help staring back.

“We won’t even talk shop. I promise,” she said, clicking off her tape recorder with a red-nailed thumb. She smiled. “Well, maybe just a teensy, weensy bit.”

It was the click that did it. It snapped me back to what was left of my senses. What the hell was I doing or thinking? Attractive or not, Cathy was nuts and the enemy. Even if she wasn’t, I had two young ladies on my dance card already. I needed three?

“Some other time, Calvin,” I said. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a tad busy these days.”

“Whatever you say, Detective,” she said, getting out. She stopped for a moment on the sidewalk and turned slowly, giving me a good look at what I’d be missing.

“My phone is always on.”

“I’m sure it is,” I mumbled as I pretended to ignore her walking away.

Chapter 45

AFTER ANOTHER THREE FRUITLESS HOURS spent fishing through Son of Sam letters at my desk, I was toast. I was about to leave, when I received a call from Miriam telling me that the commissioner was on his way back from a speech in Philly and wanted me to brief him in person. So I stuck around for another two eye-melting hours at my desk, only to have Miriam call back to say that the Big Kahuna had actually changed his mind and I was free to go.

Tonight out in Breezy was the church-sponsored carnival we’d been looking forward to since our vacation began. For the past couple of weeks, I’d had this grammar-school romantic vision of taking Mary Catherine on all the rides, being next to her as she screamed and laughed, maybe winning her one of those stupid oversize teddy bears.

Traffic was light for a change, so I managed to get back to Breezy Point in just over an hour. Instead of going to the house, I drove straight over to St. Edmund’s, hoping to catch the last of the summer carnival.

I was momentarily hopeful when I saw that the rides and tents were still there beside the rectory. But then I realized that all the lights were off. Even the fried-dough cart was shut up tight.

Talk about missing the party, I thought, as I idled beside the darkened parking lot. Even the carnies were snug in their beds fast asleep.

I really felt like crap. I couldn’t protect the city. I couldn’t even protect my kids from a pack of jackasses. Now I was AWOL from the height of our long-awaited summer vacation.

I stared up at the still and towering black shapes of the rides against the dark sky. It was the most depressing moment of my day, and that was truly saying something. I headed back for the house.

But apparently I’d spoken too soon. My day wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. As I was coming alongside the house, Seamus sat up from the front porch steps and waved for me to pull over. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, his priest’s collar nowhere to be seen. What now?

“Finally,” he said, snapping his phone shut as he got in. “Don’t bother parking. We have a meeting.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“I didn’t want to tell you with everything going on in the city.”

“Tell me what?”

Seamus let out a breath, his blue eyes cold in his deeply lined face.

“We had another Flaherty incident. It was at the carnival. The fat kid, Sean, pushed Eddie by one of the rides. Eddie fell into Trent, and Trent flipped over the railing beside the ride.”


Tags: James Patterson Michael Bennett Mystery