Part 12 (1/2)
Romeo stubbed out his cigarette, handed Kylie his business card, and waddled into the bar.
”He described the clothes she was wearing,” Kylie said. ”And the fact that he saw Evelyn get into a car backs up Matt's theory that she drove down Second and onto the Fifty-Ninth Street Bridge toward Queens before her cell signal went dead.”
”Okay,” I said. ”Let's recap. We've got two suspects, one male, one gender undetermined, in a black SUV headed for Queens-and the male suspect definitely has a white hand.”
Kylie couldn't help grinning. ”Narrows it right down,” she said.
Chapter 29.
Kylie and I wrapped it up by 10:15. At 10:16, I called Cheryl at home. No answer. I didn't leave a message.
By 6:00 the next morning, I got to Gerri's Diner and sat at my usual table. Much to my surprise, Gerri herself waved off the waitress and was there in seconds, pouring me hot coffee.
”So, Zach,” she said, ”how's it going with the lady shrink?”
The diner is around the corner from the precinct, and Gerri Gomperts, who is a cross between a den mother and Dear Abby, makes it her business to know everybody else's business. The running joke at the One Nine is that if Internal Affairs needs to know anything about any of our cops, they walk straight past the precinct house and go directly to the diner.
Gerri had been following my relations.h.i.+p with Cheryl since before I even knew there was a relations.h.i.+p.
”It's going okay, I guess,” I said, faking a smile.
Gerri faked a smile back. ”That's so romantic. And yet you hardly ever hear any love songs with the lyrics 'It's going okay, I guess.'”
Cheryl showed up five minutes later and joined me. Gerri was right on her heels. ”Good morning, Dr. Robinson,” she said, pouring Cheryl some coffee.
”What?” I said. ”No soy latte?”
They both gave me a look that let me know the dig had fallen flat on its face.
”I didn't get to those files before I left last night,” Cheryl said as soon as Gerri left. ”Can it wait till this afternoon?”
”Kylie and I are bouncing all over the city today. How about after five? And maybe dinner after that?”
”Good morning,” said a familiar baritone voice before she could answer. It was Matt Smith, star of my soap opera fantasies. ”Sorry I can't join you. I'm just grabbing a coffee. Captain Cates's email keeps cras.h.i.+ng, and she wants it fixed first thing. How'd it go last night?”
”Fantastic,” Cheryl said. ”It was everything you said it would be.”
”Actually, I was asking Zach,” Matt said. ”How did your barhopping go?”
”We got a lead,” I said. ”It looks like somebody-make that two somebodies-picked Parker-Steele up in a black SUV exactly in that spot where you said she dropped off the radar.”
”Good show. That explains her quick trip to the Fifty-Ninth Street Bridge. I have her cell records. I'll check if anyone she called in the past six months owns a black SUV. I'll get on it as soon as I solve the captain's email issue. Still looking for the source of the choke pear.”
”Thanks,” I said.
”Don't thank me, mate. It's a pleasure to be on the team with you. As for you, Doctor,” he said to Cheryl, ”pop round my office at lunch. We can grab a bite, and you can fill me in on last night.”
”Will do,” she said.
I waited for Matt to go out the front door. ”So, Doctor,” I said, ”what went so fantastic for you last night?”
”The play. I told you I was taking my parents to the theater for their anniversary. It's a new Off Broadway play that Matt recommended.”
”Sorry. I've been busy. I guess I forgot. Glad it went well.”
”Better than well. Matt is friends with the playwright. He arranged for me to take Mom and Dad backstage to meet him. Oh, my G.o.d, they flipped.”
”Sounds...fantastic.”
”Zach, you seem very out of it. What's going on with you, anyway?”
”It's personal,” I said.
”Do you want to tell me what it is?”
”Are you asking me as a shrink or as a friend?”
”Either way, it will stay between the two of us. What's bothering you?”
For starters, you're popping round Matt's office for lunch. But, of course, I couldn't say that. ”It's Spence,” I said, groping for something she would buy. ”He's become addicted to painkillers, and it's affecting Kylie's reliability.”
”It's obviously affecting you too.”
”Well, he's my partner's husband. What happens to them affects me.”
”Is that all?” she asked.
”That's all that's bothering me,” I said. ”Nothing more.”
Cheryl rubbed her chin and nodded thoughtfully. ”You, Detective Jordan,” she said, ”are delightfully full of s.h.i.+t. I just have one question-are you lying to me as a shrink or as a friend?”
Busted. I laughed out loud. ”Both. And yet neither of you appear to be buying it.”
”Zach, I don't know what's bothering you,” she said, getting up from the table. ”But even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. It works better if you figure it out on your own. Then I can help you deal with it. I've got to run. And yes, I'd love to have dinner tonight. If you want, we can pick this up then.”
She left, and I sat there for another minute, sipping the dregs of my coffee. Then I got up and went to the front of the diner. Gerri was behind the register. She didn't say a word. She just frowned.
”What's on your mind, Gerri?” I said.
”Nothing.”