“Mr. Longmire…Sheriff?” I opened my eyes, moved the towel, and looked at the hand on my shoulder. It was a man’s hand of pretty good size and had a graduation ring on it from the Philadelphia Police Academy. “How ya doin’?”
“Howdy, Michael.” He smiled and watched me some more.
“You were snoring.”
“Sorry.” I looked up at the windows, but they were still black. “What time is it?”
“Little after four. I told Mom I’d take an extra shift, seeing as how I’ve got time on my hands.”
I took a deep breath and looked at the handsome young man with so much of his life ahead of him. “Michael, have you ever heard of a guy by the name of Shankar DuVall?”
He thought about it. “Doesn’t ring any bells…” He shrugged. “I can ask around.”
I nodded. “He might be one of the guys we arrested out on Lancaster Avenue.”
“I’ll check.” He looked at Cady, at the arrangement of the ceremonial pipe, the buffalo skull, and the stones. “Looks like you guys’ve been busy.”
I stood, stretched my arms above my head, and approached the bed with hope ready to curdle at the slightest notice. “I decided to refer to a higher authority.”
There was no change, and I could feel my heart cannon-balling into my bowels, taking my lungs along for the ride. I took a deep breath and listened to it clatter in my throat like a rattler in shedding season when it is blind, pissed, and strikes out at everything. I heard Michael say something. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You should go home.”
I turned and looked at him. “You’re right.” I then thought about whether I would be giving up Moretti family secrets, finally deciding that I wouldn’t. “Your sister’s in town.”
He looked blank. “Victoria?” His smile returned; he couldn’t hold the joke. “I know; I’m the one that called her. I called her day before yesterday.” He studied me for a moment. “I didn’t think you’d mind, and I thought she’d be a help.” I didn’t say anything. He continued to smile and shuffled his purple-and-orange-clad feet, still not sure of my response. “She’s a good cop.”
I finally nodded. “I’m in a position to know that.” The kid was a prince.
I started off with a taxi, but my restlessness drove me to abandon it at 20th and Market. I kind of knew where I was and figured if I headed north by northeast, I’d eventually hit Race and take a right. If I got to the river, I’d have gone too far. I watched as a black Expedition stopped at the light and then started up the street. I saw a sign for the Franklin Institute about a block up and decided to continue north for a while.
It must’ve rained while I was asleep, sometime during my vision, as Henry would have called it. The streets were wet, but it was still the cool of the morning before sunrise, and the halos of the streetlights looked like chain links drifting up the dark city streets. I listened to my boot steps echoing off the tall buildings and gathered wool on the directions our lives take, on the intersections that allowed no U-turn and committed you to your fate. I thought about how I wished there was somewhere I could go and just pay the fine and take my daughter home.
At the corner of Arch, I stopped and looked around. My eye caught some movement behind me, and I turned my head just a little; it was the same black Expedition that I had seen on Market. It sat there at the red light, the reflection of the street lamps making it impossible to see inside. I put my hands in my pockets and acted as though I was deep in thought. It passed me, and I watched the taillights of the vehicle slow and then recede, listening to the radial tires growl as they turned down the deserted street. I took my hands out of my pockets and laughed out loud. What was I thinking? That I was important enough to be followed around the streets of Philadelphia? I shook my head and continued on.
The sun wouldn’t be up for a while, so maybe I could grab a couple more hours of sleep before calling Katz and Gowder for a meet. It would be interesting to hear their take on the Vince Osgood Parade of Stars but even more interesting to see their response to Vic. I wondered what Lena’s response to Vic would be and wondered if Alphonse had gotten anywhere with Lena’s hunch about a different connection between Osgood and Devon.
I was in the middle of all this wondering when I saw the black Expedition again, crossing the street a block ahead. There was a narrow alley to my right, and I ducked in there. I wedged myself in a doorway between a power pole and a utility box alongside the back of a building. I stood there feeling foolish for a few minutes, until I saw the black SUV slowly go up 20th. It looked like a government vehicle, but who would be trailing me in something like that? Osgood? Katz and Gowder? It just didn’t make sense, unless they’d come to the conclusion that the notes had made me a viable candidate for being thrown off a bridge next.
I went to the corner and watched as the Expedition turned right a block ahead and, once again, circled around. Whoever they were, they weren’t very good at this, which led me to believe they weren’t on the job.
I looked back up the alley and started jogging toward 19th. By the time I got to the other end, the Expedition was moving slowly down the street in its attempt to double back. A large Amorosso bread truck pulled up to the light just south, and I pressed myself against the corner of another building. The SUV passed me and stopped behind the truck.
If I was feeling frisky, now was the time.
Approaching unsecured vehicles was how the majority of police officers got killed, but I thundered down the sidewalk, slid to a stop along side the Ford, and yanked the door open anyway. Before I could say anything, the driver yelled. “Yo, man…”
“You tailing me?”
I looked at the tall, lean kid at the wheel. He didn’t look like a cop or a robber. He wore glasses and had long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a three-day beard. He looked like a graduate student, and he looked at me like I was crazy. “What?”
I was having the same doubts myself. I held up my hands to show there was no intent. “Sorry, I thought you were following me.”
He studied me. “You a cop?”
“Yep.” I didn’t have to say from where. He nodded and took a breath. I guess I’d almost given him a heart attack. “Sorry.”
He didn’t move but kept looking at me. “Jesus, man. You scared the shit out of me.” He took a deep breath as the bread truck released its air brakes and started around the corner. “I thought you were some kind of carjacker or something.”
“No, I just…You were driving slowly, and I thought you were following me.”
“I was looking for an address, man.”
I nodded, feeling the complete fool. “Sorry.”
He stuck a hand out and stopped me from closing the door. “Hey, man, do you know where the Municipal Services Building is?”
I shook my head. “No.” I started closing the door, but he kept talking.
“I’ve got this package that has to be delivered by…”
I closed the door as he held the FedEx envelope toward me, and it was at the last second that I noticed the ignition switch and the destroyed lock where the Expedition had been hotwired. I clawed at the door, trying to get it back open as he hit the gas, and I slapped at the back of the vehicle’s glossy surface.
I watched as he made the mistake of turning left behind the bread truck that was now halfway down the street and backing into a loading zone with the reverse alarm chirping. I watched as the SUV screeched to a stop at the middle of the block. He hit the horn, but the Amorosso man was having none of it. He locked the air brakes on the big truck and turned on his emergency blinkers, whoever was behind him be damned.
God bless Philly truck drivers.
I pushed off a parked car at the corner and ran for all I was worth, struggling to pull the. 45 from the holster at my back. The driver of the Ford continued to blare his horn but, when I was only thirty feet from the SUV, license number 90375, city plates, the reverse lights flicked on.