Part 50 (1/2)
Max nodded. ”Mercury Retrograde. Such things happen.”
”So you can close your jaw,” Lucky said. ”I didn't break any legs.”
”By the way,” I said hesitantly. ”I know I got a little snappish with you this past week, Lucky. I'm really sorry.”
”Ah, forget it kid. Doppelgangsters, panicky wiseguys cursed with death, seeing Charlie whacked right in front of you, an evil sorcerer trying to screw up your audition, problems with your boy-with Lopez . . .” He shrugged. ”Who wouldn't wouldn't get a little cranky?” After a moment, he added, ”Speaking of Lopez, here he comes.” get a little cranky?” After a moment, he added, ”Speaking of Lopez, here he comes.”
I caught my breath and followed Lucky's gaze. Lopez was emerging from a car that was parked down the street. He was wearing a pale gray suit with a dark coal gray s.h.i.+rt and tie, and his black hair was neatly combed. His blue eyes looked alert and serious as he approached the church.
”Max,” I said suddenly, ”what do you think happened in the church that night? When the lights came on?”
Max's head turned sharply, his expression surprised as he met my gaze. ”Oh! I didn't know you realized . . .”
”Realized what?” I prodded.
”Realized that one possible explanation for the sudden illumination was the unconscious imposition of his will on matter and energy at a moment when he feared for your life.”
”But Max, you don't really think . . . I mean . . .”
”Think what?” Lucky said, his intent gaze fixed on the approaching cop. ”What does Max not really think?”
”I think,” Max said, ”that we should keep our minds open to the possibility that Detective Lopez has talents of which he is unaware.”
”Madre di Dio!” Lucky said. Lucky said.
Which was more or less my reaction, too.
”No,” I said. ”I don't believe it. No way. And Lopez certainly certainly wouldn't believe it.” wouldn't believe it.”
Max said nothing as he watched Lopez approach.
”Max and me will be inside,” Lucky said to me, ”paying our respects to the departed.”
Max said, ”Perhaps if I spoke with Det-”
”Leave Nelli with Esther.” Lucky took her leash from Max and handed it to me. ”Just in case.”
I frowned at Lucky. ”Lopez is not not a dopp-” a dopp-”
”We'll be lightin' a candle to St. Monica while you talk to the cop.”
Lopez's gaze followed them briefly as they retreated, then moved back to me. My heart was thudding as he walked up to me. He looked so handsome, and Lucky was right, he was was looking at me like he . . . looking at me like he . . .
But if he really did feel that way, he sure didn't look happy about it.
”Hi,” he said.
”Hi.”
Nelli sniffed his hand, then gave a little wag of her tail.
Lopez looked at my throat and frowned with concern. He reached out as if intending to touch me, but then stopped himself and lowered his hand. ”How'd you get those bruises?”
I told a semi-truth. ”Buonarotti.”
His expression darkened. ”Does it hurt much?”
”Not so much now. I can't sing, of course, but that'll come back in a few more days.”
”So you're okay?”
I nodded. He didn't say anything else.
”So . . .” I shrugged. ”You didn't attend the service.”
”Well, I've suggested the deceased was an accessory to murder, and I've refused to swear that his death wasn't suicide. So I thought he might climb out of his coffin if I showed up.” He added, ”But it seemed like a good idea to keep an eye on who did come.”
”Oh.”
After an awkward silence, he said, ”I see the Shy Don is quite taken with you.”
”He was just being polite.” I reached into my purse and pulled out Lopez's cell phone. I had brought it along, thinking he might come today. ”Here.”
”Hey!” He was obviously pleased to get it back. ”Thanks! Where did you find it?”
”The priest stole it from you. At Vino Vincenzo.”
”Son of a b.i.t.c.h. So he was a pickpocket?”
”Yes.”
He looked at me. ”How did you you get ahold of it?” get ahold of it?”
”Dumb luck, you might say.”
He evidently decided not to ask any more about it. He put the phone in his pocket.
We gazed at each other.
I thought again about that moment in the church: I want LIGHTS! I want LIGHTS! And then . . . And then . . .
I said suddenly, ”Have you ever . . .”
When I didn't continue, he prodded, ”What?”
I wasn't sure what I wanted to ask. ”Have you ever felt strange?”
”All the time, since I met you.”