“I’ve got a class to teach at NYU,” Aaron said, “and if everyone is safely tucked in for the night, let’s pick up first thing in the morning.”
“Hey, it’s only me they’re aiming at, guys. Take the rest of the day off, why don’t you?”
“You’ve been telling us there’s nothing personal in your files here,” Drew said. “You can’t go face-to-face with Battaglia till he shows up in the A.M., and we’ve got three teams looking for the Josie Aponte wannabe. Stay here late by yourself, but that’s when the roaches come out of the woodwork to play. Get a life.”
“C’mon, Alex,” Catherine said. “Time for a cocktail. There’s a Dewar’s with your name on it at Primola. Nan?”
“Have to help the girls with math homework. Have one for me.”
Catherine waited till I shut down my computer. I threw a trench coat over my suit against the cool fall air, and we walked down the dimly lit corridors to the elevator.
Centre Street was populated, as usual, by a mix of lawyers and perps-the former leaving work after a long day or pausing for a meal, the latter just released after an arraignment in night court. Too many of the arrestees were making their way to the Canal Street subway station. The last thing I needed was some frotteur-a subway rubber-celebrating his release from custody on our way uptown. Catherine was known to paralyze them with a single kick.
“I know you don’t want to train it, but there are no cabs in sight,” Catherine said.
“I’ll punch in Uber,” I said. The app for the service usually resulted in a black car arriving at the courthouse within five minutes. I tapped out our location and the address of the restaurant, one of my favorite Italian eateries, on Second Avenue in the Sixties.
“I spoke with Marissa. All good with Tanner. It’s wise for her not to join us tonight, so she’ll go home as soon as he’s on his way down here to meet the judge.”
“So who’s at Primola besides Mike?”
“Most of the guys from the task force that has been trying to hunt Tanner down,” she said. “Mercer called Vickee in, too.”
“Sweet. I know she’d rather be home with her son at night.”
Vickee Eaton, Mercer’s wife, was also a detective. She was assigned to the office of the deputy commissioner for public information and usually knew more about what was going on in headquarters than most of the chiefs. We were close friends, and I was godmother to their four-year-old, Logan. I’d spent many nights in their guest room while Tanner was on the loose.
“She and Mercer want to stay for dinner with us.”
“Guess that trumps my plans,” I said, glancing at my watch. “I was supposed to meet an old friend who’s just in town for a couple of days. I can always move that back to a nightcap.”
The car arrived seconds later and we settled in to the backseat.
“You want to tell me how it’s going with Mike?” Catherine asked.
I was very comfortable confiding in the close circle of women with whom I’d worked for so long at the DA’s office.
“Baby steps,” I said, leaning my head back against the seat cushion. “We’re taking it very slow. So far, so good.”
“Sorry, but that must have been a weird transition-the first time you took your clothes off-after working together for such a long time.”
“Weird but good. You know, even in bed-”
“TMI, Alex. Stop right there,” Catherine said, holding her hand between our faces. “Way too much information.”
“I wasn’t headed where you think,” I said, smiling at her. “No inappropriate reveals here. I was just about to say that Mike’s never going to cease taking shots at me. It’s totally disarming. There’s no angst, no pressure, no relationship psychobabble. We just make each other laugh. It’s refreshing after some of the self-involved guys I’ve dated.”
“It’s great to see you relaxed and happy. You know I told Mike if he ever made you cry, I’d break every bone in his body.”
“Catherine-it’s been six weeks. That’s all. Don’t blow things out of proportion.”
“Just for the record, Grand Central Terminal’s a pretty offbeat place to start an affair.”
“Foreplay only. It was that weekend in September that we went to the Vineyard.”
“Yeah, the one that was supposed to be ladies only. The one you canceled on me.”
My old farmhouse on a hilltop in Chilmark, overlooking Vineyard Sound, was the most romantic spot I’d ever known. It was a haven for me, a small piece of paradise where I was able to escape from the stress of a constantly challenging job. My colleagues and I held lives in our hands-our victims, the accused, those wrongly accused, and the cops who fought to keep our city safe-every day of the week.
“Pick a date. We can do it next month.”
I was the third child-two older brothers-of a marriage between a doctor and a nurse, an ordinary upbringing until my father and his partner revolutionized heart surgery with the invention of a small plastic device used in operating rooms worldwide. The Cooper-Hoffman valve had paid for our educations, and the trust fund established with its proceeds allowed me the luxury of a Vineyard vacation home that I couldn’t have dreamed of on a public servant’s salary.
“Yes. Let’s go before it gets too cold,” Catherine said. “You’ll have to tell me how you managed to seduce a man in your country house when you can’t even cook. You could store some of your shoes inside your oven, it gets so little use.”
“Can you believe that Mike cooks? Like, really well.”
“You’re shattering my image. I know he loves chowing down fried clams at the Bite, and I can see him sitting at the bar at the Chilmark Tavern, chatting up the hostess. But cooking? He’s such a tough guy. Just makes you think a woman would love to take care of him,” Catherine said, “although you’re really useless at that.”
I picked my head up. “I beg your pardon. I’ve got certain charms. Limited in the kitchen, maybe, but talents that come in handy.”
“So what did he serve?”
“Oysters from one of the island ponds, which Mike shucked himself. And lobster. Two-and-a-half-pounders from Larsen’s-which he cooked to perfection.”
Larsen’s Fish Market, in the tiny fishing village of Menemsha, had the most amazing selection of fresh seafood, off-loaded from working boats that docked right at the back door in the small harbor.
“You melted the butter and poured the drinks. A match made in heaven.”
“Don’t forget I’m in charge of the fireplace, too. I even remembered to open the flue.”
“Mid-September? Wasn’t it a tad warm for a fire?”
“I opened all the windows. The fire helped with the atmosphere,” I said. “You can’t imagine how nervous I was.”
“Did you manage to get through the first night without any shop talk?” Catherine asked. “No double helixes or autopsy photos or dramatic readings from the penal law?”
“Totally social. I don’t think Mike’s ever gone that long without measuring someone for a body bag.”
Catherine was quiet for the next few blocks. “I have to ask,” she said. “Did any of your demons show up after dark?”
“You’re a great friend,” I said. She had been witness to all of my darkest moments over the years. “Thanks for asking. No, nothing at all. No nightmares, no one stalking me, no old lovers. The whole thing felt very safe, very normal.”
“For a change.”
“And the cat’s out of the bag,” I said as we pulled up in front of the restaurant. “That’s kind of a relief, too.”
Giuliano, the owner of Primola, was seating people at a table by the window as we walked in. “Signorina Cooper,” he said. “Ciao, ladies. Good to have you here. The guys are all waiting for you in the back.”
He pointed past the bar to the area in the rear of the crowded room. Several tables had been pushed together for the dozen or so men-and Vickee-who had worked relentlessly since summer to find the elusive Raymond Tanner.