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"Yeah. From Manhattan to the morgue."

"Sounds like a true crime title. So what are you going to do with your last night in the Big Apple?"

"I'm going to a play."

"Alone?"

"No." Frank waited for an explanation, but Gail continued. "I'm finally going to see Phantom of the Opera. I've waited so long I hope my expectations don't exceed the reality."

"Who you going with?"

"A woman I met at the convention. She's nice. We've had fun together."

"Nice." Frank couldn't resist. "Sounds chummy."

Gail giggled. "A little."

"So, where does this woman live?"

"Minnesota."

"Good."

"Why good?"

"Don't know. Nice place, Minnesota."

"Have you ever been there?"

"Nope. You?"

"Not yet."

Her jealousy kindled, Frank quizzed, "Plan on going?"

"Maybe."

"To see your friend?"

"Maybe."

Gail sounded distracted and Frank asked, "What are you doing?"

"Painting my nails."

Frank let the silence stretch out. "You never paint your nails."

"I do sometimes."

"This for your big date tonight?"

"It's not a big date."

"All right. Your little date."

"It's not a date at all. It's just a play."

"Whatever." Frank sulked.

"My, we sound jealous."

"Oh, no," Frank answered too quickly. "Not at all. Should we be?"

"I don't know. You're the one who left, remember?"

"Of course I do. You remind me every time we talk."

"Well, given whose idea it was to walk I'm not sure how your rather high-handed inquisition is justified."

Frank bit down on her lip. Talking to Mary one evening Frank had called herself an asshole. Mary had corrected, "You're not an asshole. You're just behaving like one. Now. Do you want to keep doing that or would you like to stop?"

Frank said, "Look. I hope you have a wonderful time. I hope the play's better than you can possibly imagine. You deserve to have some fun."

"You're damn right I do. And I'm having it. Would you like to know why I called you?"

"Love to."

"Well, I was wondering, before you started your interrogation, if you'd like to have dinner when you get home."

Frank cringed. She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, flapping the other fingers in the universal gesture for a flaming asshole. "I would love that."

"Okay. Call me when you get back."

"Promise you won't be in Minnesota?"

"This jealousy, Frank, is it a trait peculiar to sobriety?"

"I wish. I've always been an asshole. Forgive me?"

"As long as I don't have anything to worry about with you and Annie."

"You care that much?"

"Let's just say I still have a proprietary interest."

"I like that. I'll call you when I get home."

"Okay. Good luck with your dad."

"Thanks. You have fun tonight. And be safe, huh?"

"I will, copper. You, too."

Frank hung up and tried to resume her place in the book, but Maggie haunted her. Frank's jealousy had caused her first love to walk into the middle of an armed robbery and the petty squabble had cost Maggie her life. Frank would carry that scar to her grave, yet here she was, acting the same way with Gail.

A steady bump-bump issued from the bar downstairs and Frank thought how easy it would be to slip out of her harsh skin and into a few soft drinks. That would certainly shift her perspective.

And so would an AA meeting. Frank sighed and got dressed. She passed the bar on her way next door.

CHAPTER 16

The first thing Annie said to Frank was, "So? Did you see her?"

"See who?"

"Madonna. D'you share a can with her?"

"Nah, I think she's moved up in the world."

"Psh." Annie slapped the air. "Forget about her."

As she drove, Annie scrutinized the sidewalks. Frank silently watched the road for her. Each time she was about to call out a warning Annie stepped on the brakes or twisted the wheel. Frank's stomach heaved and she wondered if the cop drove like this all the time.

At First Street Annie smashed the brakes. Frank started to complain but Annie growled, "Well, hello, kiddo. I knew you'd surface sooner or later."

Frank saw the two male blacks Annie was looking at. Both late teens or early twenties, one in a red Hilfiger jacket with black shiny jogging pants, the other in a navy ski outfit. The taller wore a red ski mask and the one in navy's head was shaved.

Annie drove past, averting her gaze to Frank. "I've been lookin' for that mutt for three months. I can take him in right now on parole violation." She drove around the block. "I want to take him, but if I call for backup he's gonna bolt. You up for a collar?"

"Sure. I don't have a weapon."

Annie whipped the wheel around. "What we'll do is get a backup en route, no sirens. Damn." She jerked to scan the backseat. "Check the glove compartment. See if there are some plastic lock-ties in there. I don't got cuffs with me. We shouldn't need 'em, but just in case."

Frank produced a handful of ties.

"Good. Take three or four. He's big."

Annie turned onto First Street. The two men were still talking by a cluster of garbage cans. Frank asked which one she wanted.

"The tall one in red."

"Why's he not gonna bolt when he sees you?"

"He might." She grinned. "But look at me. Would you?"

Annie requested backup and double-parked. Annie's mope made the women as soon as they got out of the car.

He started walking but she called, "Irvin, I just wanna talk! Don't make me haul you in on something as stupid as parole violation."

"What I do?" He stopped, indignant. He watched his friend keep walking. "Damn!"

"Other than the parole violation, you tell me." Annie planted herself under his chin, arms crossed. "We need to talk."

"Talk? 'Bou' what? I don't even know you."

Flashing her badge, she told him, "Now you do. I'm Detective Silvester and this is Detective Franco. I hear you might know somethin' about who capped Dread Knowledge."

The mope became agitated, dancing, claiming, "I don't know nothin' 'bout that nigger. Ain't nothin' I can tell you."

"That's too bad. Then I guess I have to take you in on PV."

"Yeah, right." He laughed. "Ain't goin' in."

"You can come in, talk with me and leave, or you can come in wearing cuffs and not leave. What do you want to do?"

"Neither one."

The mope turned away. Frank stepped in front of him. As he moved around her Annie grabbed his arm, twisting it into the small of his back. But the mope wrenched his arm loose, taking his eyes off Frank to swing at Annie. In that instant Frank's knee connected with his crotch. The big man gasped and went down. He must have hit Annie because she was recovering from a stumble. Yanking her 9 millimeter free she whacked his elbow with the grip. It made a solid crack and he cried out. Annie yanked his arm back to lock the tie on and Frank jerked his other arm around, getting a twist on it. Annie was ready with a third and zipped the ties together.

The perp was curled on the sidewalk, trying to breathe. Annie bent toward his face. She panted, "Dumb, Irvin. Very dumb. You just bought a trip to jail for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer." She tapped his head. "Very dumb."

When she straightened, pushing the hair back from her face, Frank saw her chin was swelling. "You okay?"

Two men in uniform ran up to them. Annie dabbed her chin. "Ouch. Dumb, Irvin. Very dumb." The cops yanked the mope to his feet and Annie told them, "He's all yours, fellas. We tied him up all nice and neat for you, just like a box of cannoli."

"Yes, ma'am."