I told him everything. Staring into my coffee cup, I recited the whole story. What I knew. When I knew it. Every sordid twist and every tawdry turn.
Mike took a last, loud sip of his Diet Coke and looked out at the passing headlights.
"You know what, Lauren?" he said after a while.
I shook my head.
"Call me screwed up, but even after hearing all that, I'm pretty much glad about what's happened. Maybe they didn't kill Scott, but let's face it, those two Ordonez brethren were an ugly strain of bacteria. And if what brother Mark said was true about Scott being involved with them, then, hell, maybe even he had it coming. The Lord," Mike said, "He sure do work in mysterious ways."
Chapter 90
I LISTENED TO THE clattering plates in the diner. Something was sizzling on a grill. On the TV behind the register, a reporter was cackling like an idiot as he was buffeted by the high winds of a Florida storm.
"That's why I'm quitting," my partner suddenly said. "My little brother owns a bar in San Juan. He invited me down. I already put my papers in. I'm cashing in all the vacation I've been saving, so today was my last day. I'm out."
"But…"
"But what, Lauren?" Mike said. "I've put my time in, and you know what? It didn't work out, so screw it. If you make a mistake at a factory and someone gets hurt, what's the worst thing that can happen? You'll lose your job? In our job, you make a mistake, chances are you're losing your job and going to jail. For what? Fifty grand a year? We're not even allowed to go on strike. Please. You know how many dead people I've dealt with? How many grieving mothers? Not worth it. I'm over. What's that song, Lauren? 'Even walls fall down.' "
I started weeping again then, really crying my eyes out.
"Yeah," I managed to say. "And I'm the one holding the sledgehammer."
Mike wiped the tears off my cheek with his thumb.
"Bullshit," he said. "Me pulling that trigger had nothing to do with you."
I stared at him.
"Nothing?" I said.
"Well," he said, pinching his thumb and first finger together. "Maybe a teensy-weensy bit."
I punched him in his arm.
"But I forgive you, Lauren," he said. "We're partners. But when it comes down to doing the right thing for your family, well, things get hairy quick, don't they? Who am I to judge? No one. Not anymore. That's why I'm out. Though I do regret one thing."
"What's that?" I said.
"Not being there to see the million-megawatt grin slide off that slick Jeff Buslik's face when you blackmailed him. I always knew you were an ass kicker, but Christ. You go right for the jugular when you have to."
"Or lower," I said, wiping at my red eyes. "Whatever the situation calls for."
Mike lifted the ketchup bottle and made the sign of the cross at me with it.
"You are now forgiven for your sins, my child. Go forth unto the Earth and sin no more," he said, standing. "I mean it, Lauren. You're a good person. Don't ever forget that."
"I'll try not to, Mike."
He gave me a kiss on my forehead before he stood.
"And if you ever make your way down to San Juan, you look me up. Ex-partners, even ones involved in super-crazy shit like you, get hooked up with margaritas all night long."
Chapter 91
I WAS COMING OUT of the shower Monday morning of the following week when I found Paul waiting for me. He held my morning coffee in one hand and my fluffy bathrobe in the other. "What service," I said, beaming a smile at him. "I almost can't stand it. Almost."
"Least I could do, considering what a big day this is," he said, planting a kiss on my dripping nose.
It was a big day, I thought as I was royally assisted into my robe. I took a sip of the coffee and wiped the steam off the mirror with my sleeve and looked at myself.
My first day back to work.
And the last of my career.
I'd decided to take my partner Mike's lead. I was going to hand in my resignation today, finally get out. It would be a change for me, I knew. It was going to be incredibly hard to get used to not being a cop.
But given what had happened over the past several weeks, I had to admit that it was high time for me to make the move.
Twenty minutes later, my face and badge polished, Paul gave me another kiss at the garage door.
He was dressed for work as well, looking great, handsome as ever. His concussion, like the doctors had thought, had only been minor, thank God. Except for twenty or so stitches at the back of his head, he was as good as new.
He, too, was wrapping things up at work. It was all arranged now. We'd gotten the paperwork from the relocation company on Friday. Both closings were set. Paul's new Connecticut job and our new Connecticut lives would start in six weeks.
If we could get through the next eight hours.
Not exactly a sure thing, considering our recent history. I crossed my fingers as I raised my travel mug to his.
"The family that quits the rat race together…," I said.
"Stays together," Paul said as the clink of stainless steel echoed off the walls of the garage.
Chapter 92
I CAUGHT LIEUTENANT KEANE in his office when I came into the squad room. He only looked up from his Post sudoku puzzle after I closed his door.
Then his sharp blue eyes scanned my face. Suddenly, he slapped his paper and pen onto his desk.
"Please," he said. "Not you, too. Don't tell me you're leaving. You can't. How does that make sense, Lauren? We lose one cop, and now two more are gone?"
"It's not like that, LT. You're reading this wrong."
"Please. Do I look stupid? If it's IAB you're worried about, I have hooks and -"
"I'm pregnant, Pete," I said.
Keane stared at me as if I'd shot a round into the ceiling. He rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips. Finally, reluctantly, he smiled. Then he stood and walked around his desk and gave me a fatherly hug. The first, I believe, he'd ever given me. Probably the last, too.
"Well, young lady, even though I don't remember giving you permission to get pregnant, congratulations to you and Paul. I'm happy for you both."
"I appreciate it, boss man."
"You had some trouble, too, if I remember. Ann and I did, too – before the twins. That's just terrific for you guys. You have to be ecstatic. I'm sickened by the fact you're completely screwing me by leaving, but I'll get used to it, I suppose. I'm sure as hell going to miss you. I guess going out and tying one on is out of the question. How can we celebrate? How about some breakfast?"
My boss ordered in from the precinct's local bodega, and we sat for half the morning, telling old stories as we ate scrambled egg quesadillas and drank coffee.
"Hey, if I'd known it was going to be this much fun," I said, wiping hot sauce off my cheek, "I would have retired years ago."
Keane's desk phone rang as we were finishing our coffee.
"Yeah?" he called into it.
"That's weird. That's very strange. Okay, send her up, I guess."
"Send up who?" I asked, an edge creeping into my voice.
"The witness in Scott's case. What's her name? The old schoolmarm?"
My heart and stomach did a simultaneous stutter step.
Amelia Phelps!
What now?
"What does she want?" I asked.
Keane pointed his sharp chin out at the rail of the squad room stairs, where Amelia Phelps was standing.
"You can start your two weeks' notice by finding out. Go talk to her."
I got right up and walked out to see what was up.
"Yes, Mrs. – I mean, Ms. Phelps," I said, leading her to my desk. "What can I do for you today?"
"I was expecting to get a call to come in and look at a lineup," she said, removing her white gloves as she sat. "But no one ever got in touch, so I thought I'd stop by and ask if I can be of any assistance."
I let out a long breath of relief. Mike must have forgotten to let her know we wouldn't need her after all.