Part 5 (1/2)

She said ”yes,” and a year later she said ”I do.”

For the past ten years, I've resigned myself to the fact that Kylie and Spence are rich, happy, and in love-the beautiful couple that everybody who is anybody in New York is thrilled to have over for dinner at their penthouse in the city, their home in the Hamptons, or their yacht.

I probably never fell out of love with her, but at least I moved on, and after bouncing around the New York singles market with one short-term relations.h.i.+p after another, I finally found Cheryl.

Cheryl Robinson was the first woman I ever dated that met the impossible standards I set for myself after I lost Kylie. We'd known each other for a few years, but it began to get serious only three months ago, and I was starting to hope that Cheryl could be the one. And now, suddenly, it was looking like Kylie's relations.h.i.+p with Spence was starting to unravel.

If she were any other partner, I'd be rooting for her to get back together with her husband and get her life back on track.

But Kylie MacDonald wasn't just any other partner. And right now, I had no idea how I felt.

Chapter 11.

Somewhere between 86th Street and the crime scene, I focused on the fact that, as crazy as I was, there was a guy out there with an unlimited supply of Hazmat suits who was even crazier.

”Screw the election,” Kylie blurted out, and I knew that her head had gone to the same place mine had. ”Irwin Diamond got it right. We're not politicians. We're cops, and our job is to catch Hazmat before he kidnaps and kills another innocent-correction-not-so-innocent victim. Where do we start?”

”Dryden gave me the names of the two detectives working the case-Donovan and Boyle out of the Five-but I'd rather hold off on calling them. I never got a chance to tell you, but there were two guys from Anti-Crime working the park. They called in the one eighty-seven. I recruited them and told them to do some legwork for us. Let's check in with them first.”

”Legwork,” Kylie said. ”So much more efficient than those newfangled computer machines.”

”Hey, give the poor mayor a break. Police work is not his strong suit.”

”Then he should never have blocked the department from investigating Cynthia Pritchard's death. If he loses the election, he'll be getting what he deserves,” Kylie said. ”And as long as I'm sharing all my deepest, darkest secrets with you, there's one I've been holding back.”

”What's that?”

”Whether we solve this case by next Tuesday or not, I'm still voting for Sykes.”

The area surrounding the carousel looked like ground zero for a flash mob. ”Is this our crime scene,” Kylie said, ”or a Bon Jovi concert?”

As soon as I got out of the car, someone yelled, ”Detective Jordan!”

It was Casey and Bell, working their way through the crowd. They had cleaned up from their homeless routine, but they looked frazzled.

”Boy, are we glad you're back,” Casey said.

”Sorry to cut and run,” I said. ”You guys in over your head?”

Bell grinned. ”Maybe a little.”

”Maybe a lot,” Casey said. ”This is light-years bigger than anything we've ever worked, but we got some good stuff for you, and one thing you're going to hate.”

”First, meet my partner,” I said. ”Detective MacDonald, these are the two guys I shanghaied, Detectives Casey and Bell.”

Head nods all around.

”Okay,” I said, ”what've you got?”

”We found one of those folding shopping carts in the trees alongside the Sixty-Fifth Street transverse,” Casey said. ”Those things are valuable commodities around here, so it couldn't have been there for long, or somebody would have scooped it up. You said Parker-Steele disappeared on Friday, so he didn't kill her in the park. He killed her someplace else and dumped her here.”

Dryden had already told us that, but I let them go on.

Bell picked up the narrative. ”Our best guess is that after he killed Parker-Steele, he stuffed her in a bag, drove her to this neighborhood, and parked his car somewhere nearby.”

”Can you guys check with Traffic for any parking tickets that were issued within a ten-block radius of key entry points?” Kylie said. ”East and west sides.”

”Will do, but I wouldn't get my hopes up,” Bell said. ”Parking is a b.i.t.c.h during the day, but after ten p.m., there are lots of legal s.p.a.ces he could have used.”

”So he parked his car nearby,” I said. ”Then what do you figure?”

”He loaded the body into the shopping cart and walked through the park as invisible as any of the homeless guys who roam the city streets,” Casey said. ”That's the way me and Bell have been blending in. Then he cut the lock on the gate, strapped her on the horse, hot-wired the electric panel to get the music and the carousel going, relocked the gate, dumped the shopping cart, hopped over the stone wall, and walked along the transverse back to his car.”

The two of them stood there looking at us like puppy dogs who had just fetched a stick and were waiting for a pat on the head.

”Good job,” I said. ”You see anybody that looked suspicious in the crowd?”

They turned to each other and laughed.

”Everybody in that crowd looks suspicious,” Bell said. ”A dead woman in a Hazmat suit on a carousel is like a magnet for wackos. For the killer to stand out, he'd have to be wearing a sign that says 'I did it.'”

”Hey!... Hey! You!”

I turned around. Two men scooted under the crime scene tape and headed straight for Kylie and me.

”What the h.e.l.l kind of c.r.a.p are you guys trying to pull?” one of them yelled.

”Hang on to your hat, Detective Jordan,” Casey said.

”You know these guys?” I asked.

”We just met them ten minutes ago. Remember I said there's one thing you're going to hate? Here it comes.”

Chapter 12.

”Their names are Donovan and Boyle,” Casey said. ”They're acting like jerks, going around telling everybody that they're-”

”I know what they're telling everybody,” I said. ”Thanks. I'll handle it.”