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“Fair enough.”

Suddenly not only Alex’s day but also her whole trip started to look brighter.

The cop’s name was Tom McLaughlin, but his friends called him T-Mac. He’d been raised in Quantico, Virginia, where his father was stationed in the Marines. That’s where he developed his love of horseback riding.

Alex couldn’t remember the last time she actually enjoyed herself this much on an assignment. Time flew while they rode through the park.

Alex said, “Is it hard to get an assignment in the NYPD horse unit?”

“It’s called the Mounted Unit. And you’d be shocked how many cops want to get in. There’s only about fifty-five horses now. We go all over the city for PR and sometimes crowd control. We also patrol the park. I love it, except I never get weekends off.”

He had a simple, direct way about him, and Alex found him interesting.

When he asked for her phone number, she gave him the number to her burner phone, which would be good for the length of her stay in New York. A stay she hoped would be long enough to see this handsome cop again.

She said, “I’ll only be in New York another week or so. But I would enjoy a nice dinner. Steak and horses are two of my favorite things.”

T-Mac gave her a dazzling smile and said, “Mine, too.”

Chapter 39

I got the call about a double homicide down in Madison Square Park around nine o’clock. Mary Catherine understood that I had a certain duty, no matter what time of the day or night I was called. She just reminded me to take it easy, since I was still recovering from my injuries.

There’s a certain Zen to doing the job you’re trained for and understand so well. I even had a twinge of excitement as I hopped in my city car and headed south. This time of night, I made it to the crime scene pretty quick.

Sometimes I forget about the turnover in the NYPD. I didn’t recognize a single one of the young uniformed officers maintaining the perimeter of the crime scene. It was at the lower end of the park near a massive water fountain. I had my ID and a badge on a chain around my neck. I didn’t wear a jacket, so everyone saw the second badge clipped next to my gun on my belt.

As I approached the fountain, I saw exactly who I was looking for. Cassie Max was on one knee by the edge of the fountain looking back toward some bushes and a low wall. Her short black hair was covered by a scarf as she focused her attention on the far side of the fountain.

As soon as she saw me, a smile whipped across her face and she sprang to her feet.

Cassie said, “It’s nice to see that senior detectives still come out after dark.”

“When I was younger, the word senior was code for ‘old.’”

“Nothing’s changed.” She gave me a sly smile that conveyed her wit and intelligence. Then she said, “I called you as soon as I realized this victim was Canadian. When I saw she might be connected to the Canadian mob, I knew you’d be interested.”

“It looks like you get all the homicides in parks.”

“They can be a convenient place to kill someone.”

“What about the second victim? Is he a Canadian as well?”

“No. He’s a local thug named Anthony Chichee. He has half a dozen arrests for assault and is the suspect in two homicides. He’s known as an enforcer and bodyguard for hire.”

I said, “So what have you figured out so far?”

“The woman, Alicia Toussant, was shot one time just above her nose. The bullet never exited. The medical examiner’s people took both the bodies about twenty minutes ago. I was just trying to line up where the shot was probably taken from. There’s a spent casing over there.” She pointed to the edge of the concrete.

“Depending on the weapon the killer was using, I suspect whoever took the shot was standing about ten feet away.”

“Same caliber as your murder near Bryant Park?”

“It was a nine, but so are about seventy million others. If the killer is as professional as I think, I doubt we’ll match up the slugs.”

I took a few seconds to scan the entire crime scene. Experience had taught me that you sometimes thought of a new angle when you just looked around.

I said, “I don’t think anyone wants to hear about a turf war here in the city. It sure looks like someone has got it in for Canadians, and my sources say it’s one of the Mexican cartels.”


Tags: James Patterson Michael Bennett Mystery