Her urge to protect him was ferocious enough to scare her. She tried to plan out her upcoming meeting with Deidre, but she was so muzzy from lack of sleep that she took an automatic detour through Lincoln Square. And there, sitting by the fountain, was an elderly man wearing a horned Viking’s helmet.
A horned, Minnesota Vikings fan helmet.
She couldn’t deal with this now, but instead of driving away, she wheeled into a no parking space, jumped out of her car, and strode toward him. He didn’t spot her until she was about thirty feet away, and then he sprang up and began to run. She dashed in front of him. “Police!”
Depressing how hard it was to go straight once you started stepping over the line.
As soon as she cornered him, she saw he wasn’t Howard Berkovitz. His face was thinner, his hair grayer. But they were the same height, the same build, about the same age, and there was a strong resemblance.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, with the familiar accent of someone born and raised in Chicago.
“I know you didn’t.” She tried to look friendly so he’d see she wasn’t dangerous. “And I’m not really a police officer.”
“Then why was you running after me? I saw you before. You’re the one who was chasing me a coupla weeks back.”
“It’s a long story. I’m harmless, I swear. Could you do me a huge favor and let me buy you a cup of coffee so I can explain?”
“I don’t like to talk to people.”
“I’ll do the talking. Please. I’ve barely slept, and I’ve had a horrible few days, and I’d really appreciate it.”
His eyes narrowed, drawing his fuzzy gray eyebrows closer together. “Okay, but no funny stuff.”
“Promise.”
They were soon settled at one of the tables in a Western Avenue coffee shop with purple walls and weathered hardwood floors. She didn’t ask any questions, not even his name, and definitely not why he chose to walk around Lincoln Square wearing sports fan headgear. Instead, she told him about Berni.
“And this woman thought I was her dead husband?” he said when she was done. “She sounds like a cuckoo to me.”
“Berni’s eccentric, but she’s not crazy. She just misses her husband.”
He rubbed his chin, dislodging the Vikings helmet enough to make the horns crooked. “I guess I can understand. I lost my wife last year.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I should have appreciated her more.”
Piper kept her expression neutral. Time was ticking away. She needed to finish this quickly if she hoped to get a shower before she showed up in Deidre’s office. She confronted the elephant in the coffee shop. “You must be a real football fan.”
“More baseball. I love the Sox. You can take the kid outta the South Side, but you can’t take the South Side outta the kid.”
“I see.” She didn’t, and she nodded toward his headgear.
“Oh, I gotcha. You’re talking about this?” He pulled off the horned Vikings helmet and set it on the table between them. “I wear stuff like this to keep people from bothering me. Since Ellie died, I don’t like to talk to anybody.”
Piper was starting to get the picture. “The Vikings helmet, the cheesehead-they keep people away.”
He gave a satisfied nod. “Because they think I’m crazy.”
“Like you think Berni’s crazy?”
He thought it over. “I’m a fair guy. That’s a good point.”
“Would you be willing to talk to Berni? The three of us could meet here.”
“I don’t like to talk to people,” he repeated, in case she’d missed the point the other two times he’d mentioned it.
“That’s okay. Berni loves to talk. And all you’d have to do is nod. I think she needs to see you so she can let go of Howard.”
He stared into his coffee mug. “It’s hard to let go.”
“I can imagine it is.”
“I gotta say it sounds interesting. Most things are boring these days. Now when I was working, it was different…”
Although he said he didn’t like to talk, once he got started, he didn’t want to stop. His name was Willie Mahoney. He was a Chicago native who’d worked for the gas company until his retirement. His wife of forty-eight years had been a “spark plug.” His kids were grown and lived out of state. He was lonely. By the time he wound down, Piper had a parking ticket, and she’d lost her chance to shower.
She drove directly to Lakeview and picked up Coop in the alley four doors down from his condo. The image of him being led away in handcuffs was still seared on her brain, and she had to clutch the steering wheel to keep from hugging him. Fortunately, he was in a sour mood. “I don’t enjoy sneaking out of my own house.”
“You’d rather join that media convention in your front yard?”
He grunted something and folded his big frame into the Sonata’s passenger seat. “What’s this about, and where are we going?”
She dodged both questions. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Barely. His eyes were bloodshot and his jaw scruffy. She wanted to comfort him-reassure him-but he wouldn’t appreciate it. “I hope you looked better when they took your mug shot.”
He almost smiled. “You have no pity.”
The last thing he wanted from her, she knew.
“And you’re not exactly looking you’re best,” he said. “As a matter of fact-”
“It’s been a long couple of days.” She flipped on KISS FM and turned up the volume to end the conversation.
She waited until she was ready to pull into the parking lot behind the building that housed Joss Investments to explain. “We’re meeting Deidre.”
“So I see.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want to meet Deidre.”
“Teamwork.”
“There isn’t any teamwork happening here. I have no idea what you’re doing, and you haven’t enlightened me.”
She took in all his weary gorgeousness. “This is the last time I’ll ask you to trust me. I promise.”
He shoved open the car door. “Why the hell not? What’s another miserable day?”
She collected the laptop from the trunk. He must have thought it was hers because he didn’t ask about it. The laptop, however, was the first thing Noah spotted as Deidre’s secretary let them into her office. He came to his feet from the side table where he and Deidre had been going over some files.
Deidre greeted Coop with a cool nod, her previous warmth gone, and moved toward her desk, as if she wanted a barrier between them. “You didn’t tell me Cooper was coming, Piper. You led me to believe we’d only be meeting with you.”
“Is that what you thought? My mistake.”
Coop positioned himself between the door and an oil painting of Deidre’s father. Crossing his arms over his chest, he rested one shoulder against the wall, letting Piper take the lead. She wanted so badly to do this for him, to lay it out at his feet like a Super Bowl trophy. She handed the laptop over to Noah. “I think this belongs to you. It’s the oddest thing. Somebody left it on my doorstep last night. And don’t worry. I backed it up.”
Noah’s lower lip thinned as the corners of his mouth contracted, but he couldn’t directly accuse her of stealing without casting suspicion on himself.
Deidre steepled her fingers on the desktop. “What’s this about, Piper?”
“It’s about your right-hand man here. He’s a criminal. I’m guessing you didn’t know that?”
Noah turned vicious. “Get out of here.”
Deidre’s bewildered expression looked strange on the face of a woman accustomed to being in control. Piper confronted Noah. “Does the name Ellen Englley ring a bell?”