CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Without permission or a license to use the precinct automobiles, Ava’s options became limited to cab rides. As she hailed one down and took her seat in the back, she wondered where she should go next. She could speak to the band members again, one by one this time so as to maybe catch them mixing up the narratives, but that would take an insane amount of time, and that was something she didn’t have.
Also, the day was coming to a close and she had made a promise not to work too late into the nights so that she would always be there to tuck Jeffrey into bed. So when she got into the back of the cab, she asked the driver to take her to the station, hoping that Frank might already be back, though she figured the chances were slim. If he was involved in a hostage situation, there was no telling how long he might be tied up. She also found herself a little envious that he was involved in something so off the cuff and adventurous.
When she arrived at the station she found that Frank and at least ten others were still at the bank in question. After asking around and getting no concrete updates, she walked over to Frank’s desk and looked through the scant reports he’d put together. She spent about half an hour or so reading through them, looking for any red flags they’d missed or areas where there were flaws in the story. But there was nothing—so much nothing that she started to wonder if maybe Frank’s hunch about Tony paying Carter to off Monty Lincoln might have some steam behind it.
As the evening wore on, she was torn. She had a limited amount of time to put the pieces together, but at the same time, she wanted to go home. In the end, she made handwritten copies of the notes Frank had put together. It didn’t take long because the notes weren’t all that detailed. She then took these notes with her as she left the precinct had started walking home.
On the streets, she could feel the unrest in the city. The whole stock market disaster was taking a silent toll. Sometimes, of course, it wasn’t so silent. Sometimes it came in the form of situations like Frank was currently working through, down at the bank where a man had shot two people, taken his own life, and then another employee had taken hostages. For the most part, though, people seemed to attempt to carry on as if the bottom wasn’t shaking and threatening to fall out from under them. They were fine to look upon the everyday issues like the city becoming overcrowded and race issues that everyone tried to ignore. But the financial unrest lurked under it all like a shadow trailing behind the entire population and as the day dimmed, that shadow seemed to grow darker somehow.
It was just past six when she arrived home. Her father had fried up a few burgers for him and Jeffrey. There were three remaining on the kitchen table while her father and Jeffrey cleaned the dishes.
“Dinner smells great, Dad,” she said, walking over to him and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Wish I could say the same about the taste,” he chuckled. “I overcooked them a little. But Jeffrey here at two and begged for a third. Those three on the table are for you and Frank. I just assumed he’d be coming?”
“I don’t know. He had a pretty rough case he got called into a few hours ago. But it’s a nice thought.”
Roosevelt nudged Jeffrey while the boy dried the dishes with a white cloth. “Take a break, kiddo,” he said. “Go spend some time with your mom.”
Jeffrey sat at the table with Ava while she ate a burger that while, yes, was overcooked, still tasted very good. She had fresh sliced tomatoes with it and it was all eaten before she knew it. She’d left the other two for Frank, hoping he would show up sooner rather than later.
“Did you have a good day at school?” Ava asked Jeffrey.
As usual, he was eager to fill her in. He told her all about what they were learning. He seemed particularly overjoyed about a man who came in to speak—a man from a construction company that had plans to put up at least two more skyscrapers in the next ten years. Jeffrey went on and on about the grand vision his company, as well as others, had for New York City. Ava believed it easily enough. She saw it on a daily basis, all of the construction and progressive turmoil as the city continued to grow all around her.
After dinner, she sat with him in the living room for a while, listening as he tried his best to read through the first chapter of Oliver Twist. He was a strong reader but when he slipped into a story, he often got lost. While she listened to him read, she could see him zoning out, literally sinking into the story. Even when there was a knock at the door, Jeffrey did not stop reading.
Ava got up to get it, Roosevelt having already headed off to bed so he could meet with a young boxer at five the following morning. When she opened the door, Frank was on the other side. He looked tired and a bit weary but she was glad to see him.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Well, it wasn’t even a hostage situation, really. It was someone who was traumatized by the murder suicides and was threatening to copy it.” He stepped inside and sat down at the table, shaking his head. “I’m telling you…people start to get worried about money and they’ll do all sorts of terrible things. They’re losing their minds out there and…it’s just crazy.”
“Well, at least you’re safe.”
“Yeah, I guess there’s that.”
“There’s a plate wrapped up on the counter for you. Dad cooked it. Eat up while I head back in here to have Jeffrey finish reading to me. Maybe we can talk a bit after I put him to bed.”
“I appreciate it, but I think I’m going to head home,” he said, taking her hand. “It was a heavy day and I just…I sort of just want to be alone to process it.”
“Of course,” she said. “That makes sense.”
“How about you? Were you able to do anything at the courthouse?”
“Yes. The judge has postponed the trial until tomorrow. So I have less than one day to close this case.”
He kissed her hand and said, “We have less than one day to close this case. We can start bright and early tomorrow.”
“But I could hit up the jazz clubs tonight, see if anyone knows anything.”
He smiled and shook his head. “And even if anyone has heard anything, do you think you’re going to get anything helpful? Think of the potential audience and who they’re going to side with.”
She hated it, but he was right. She could spend all night scouring the clubs and could come up with nothing more than biased rumors.
“Go home. Spend some time with Jeffrey,” he said.