"I'm sorry, Ms. Phelps, I should have called you. It turns out we apprehended the suspect, so we no longer need your help. It was so good of you to come in, though. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Back to your house maybe? It wouldn't be any trouble."
I usually wasn't in the business of chauffeuring witnesses, but Ms. Phelps was elderly. And besides, she was the last conceivable wrinkle in the whole ordeal. The sooner I got her out of there, the better.
"Oh, okay," she said. "That would be very nice, Detective. I've never actually ridden in a police car before. Thank you."
"Believe me," I said, steering her toward the exit. "It's no problem at all."
Chapter 93
THE REST OF THE DAY I spent on the phone with personnel. On hold with personnel was more like it as I attempted to hash out the bureaucratic details of my resignation.
Periodically, my fellow squaddies came by to register their surprise and well wishes. They even insisted I head out with them around four to The Sportsmen, the precinct's local gin mill, for a farewell drink.
Though my bladder came dangerously close to the bursting point at the bar – with Diet Cokes, of course – I was deeply touched by my co-workers' concern and respect.
They even gave me one of those corny, oversize greeting cards with what had to be the entire precinct's signatures.
See ya, it said on the front.
And on the inside, Wouldn't wanna be ya.
Who knew Hallmark had an NYC Cop Attitude section?
"Oh, guys," I said with a sniffle. "I'm going to miss you, too. And I wouldn't want to be ya either."
It was around seven when I finally begged out of there and headed for home.
That's funny, I thought, as I pulled into my driveway. I didn't see Paul's car. He usually called to let me know when he had to work late.
I was opening the call file on my cell to ring him, when I noticed something kind of strange in the den window over the garage.
There was a dark gap in the slats of the blinds. As I scrolled down for Paul's cell number, I tried to remember the last time I'd opened them.
I looked back up, slowly, very deliberately, then shut my cell phone with a click.
The gap in the blinds had closed.
Wait a second, I thought. Hold on.
My mind raced as I thought of the possibilities. Could this be more friends of the Ordonezes? Maybe there was another brother I didn't know about?
Or maybe you're just tired and paranoid, I thought. Maybe one too many Diet Cokes at The Sportsmen.
I pulled out my Glock and put it in the belt of my skirt at the back.
Most definitely a little skittish, I thought. But better paranoid than sorry.
Chapter 94
I TOOK OUT MY KEYS as I came up the stairs, acting as naturally as I could. When I was out of sight of the den window, I drew my gun and ran around to the back of my house.
I glanced at the windows. Everything seemed intact. No sign of a break-in. No trouble so far.
There was a small gap in the curtains at the back door. I peered through it, watching the front-to-back hallway for a while. No movement. Nothing.
After a few minutes, I began to feel silly. There was nobody there but me.
Then, at the end of the hall near the door, something suddenly crossed through the dark hall. A large shadow moving quickly. I was sure of it.
Shit! I thought as my pulse pounded. Christ! I could feel my heartbeat in the fillings of my teeth.
That's when I thought of Paul. Maybe he actually was home. And there was somebody in there with him. Running around in the dark. Who? For what possible reason?
I had to go inside, I decided with a deep breath.
I slipped off my shoes and, with painstaking quiet, unlocked the back door and turned the knob, as slowly as I could.
"Shh," I heard somebody say. Not me.
I was lifting my Glock toward the sound, ready to squeeze off a shot, when the lights went on.
"SURPRISE!" said a couple of dozen voices in unison.
I'll say! Jesus God, it was my friends and family. The female ones, at least. By some miracle, I didn't fire a round. Thank goodness for safe-action pistols.
I gaped at the Mylar balloons, the green-and-yellow-wrapped presents, the three-wheel yuppie jogging stroller parked in the corner.
It wasn't a home invasion after all. Not bad news or tragedy.
It was my baby shower!
And judging by the number of hands that shot up over open-mouthed, blood-drained faces, I guessed it had been a real surprise all around.
I lowered my sights from between my elderly Aunt Lucy's eyes. She started breathing again.
"Look, Mommy," my sister Michele's four-year-old daughter said in the dead silence. "Auntie Lauren has a gun."
"It's all right, ladies," Paul said, smiling as he hurried forward and helped me to reholster my weapon. He gave me a hug to help me recover.
"Why did you plan the shower for now? I'm only eleven weeks," I whispered as he kissed me on the cheek.
"I wanted to make sure you got a shower before the move," Paul said, turning back toward the crowd. "Now, smile. Big smile. Enjoy your party.
"It's all right," Paul repeated. "Just another day in the life of a hero cop. Thank God we have a fresh supply of diapers, huh? Who needs a drink?"
Chapter 95
THE SHOWER WAS A BIG SUCCESS – happy times for all, but especially for me. I had such good friends, and even my relatives were mostly nice. Life was finally starting to make some sense again. And then -
"Hey, stranger!" Bonnie Clesnik said, dropping her menu and almost knocking the table over as she hugged me in the middle of the Mott Street Dragon Flower the Sunday after the baby shower.
I looked around at the overly bright restaurant. There were cloudy-looking fish tanks everywhere. When my old CSU sergeant friend Bonnie called me to come out with her, I was thinking pub grub, home fries, a couple of Virgin Marys maybe.
I blinked as I picked up the menu and saw the picture of a turtle and a frog. Wow. Sunday brunch in Chinatown. I guess Bonnie had never had morning sickness herself.
"I can't believe I missed your retirement party and your shower," Bonnie said as we sat. "Someone on third shift called in sick, and wouldn't you know it? I got the call."
"Save the regrets, Bonnie," I said, smiling. "It's me here. This is great. Perfect." As long as I can keep the Chinese food down.
"So," Bonnie said midway through the dim sum. "All of a sudden, it's so many changes for you. I would have thought they'd have to pry you off The Job with a hammer and a crowbar. I'm so happy for you and Paul, of course, but… I don't know. I've seen how you work cases, Lauren. The glow in your eyes. How fearless you can be. I'm not the only woman cop you've inspired, either, by the way. I guess it's hard for me to see you turn it all down and walk away. Somehow, I can't see you as a soccer mom."
Gee, Bonnie. Thanks for the vote of confidence, I thought. Wasn't this supposed to be a celebration? Let the good times flow?
Suddenly, Bonnie laid down her chopsticks.
"Before I forget," she said. "I have a gift."
Bonnie removed a large manila envelope from her bag and handed it to me. I opened the flap.
"Just what I've always wanted," I said, looking at the pages and then staring at my friend quizzically. "A computer printout."
What was going on now?
"I received that on Friday from the FBI lab," Bonnie said. She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and looked into my eyes with kind concern. "It's the results from the DNA sample I found on the tarp Scott Thayer was found wrapped in."
The world whited out for a second as a sudden heat flash sizzled through me.
Our goddamned Neat Sheet! I actually remembered the picnic where Paul had provided his DNA sample!