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!
It was our first anniversary. Paul had brought me and two bottles of champagne up to the exquisitely beautiful Rockwood Hall Park in North Tarrytown. Had it ever gotten better for us? I doubted it. Late summer. Champagne and crickets, and just the two of us. It was the first time we'd actually tried to get pregnant.
I glanced at the pages, then back at my friend.
"What are you talking about?" I asked Bonnie. "I thought that you said all you could find was Scott's blood."
"After I scraped it off, I noticed that there was another, older stain. It turns out it was dried semen. Just enough to get a DNA signature."
I squinted at the pages. What would it take for Scott's case to stay closed? I wondered. Holy water? Pounding a stake through its heart? Shooting it with a silver bullet?
And what the hell was I supposed to say now? Bonnie seemed to be waiting for something from me.
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" I finally got up the courage to ask.
"I tried to," Bonnie said. "But it was the morning of the Ordonez shooting, and I couldn't reach you. When I called your lieutenant the next day, he told me to shit-can it. They'd found Scott's gun on Victor Ordonez, and the case was a slam-dunk."
"So what's the problem?" I said.
Bonnie let out a sigh.
"What can I tell you, kid? The DNA isn't from Ordonez. And yeah, I'm sure."
I ran through the implications at the speed of light. They had Paul's DNA! That would be devastating for him, for both of us. And baby makes three.
"Whose is it?" I said carefully.
"We don't know," Bonnie answered.
Thank God for small mercies, I thought.
But unfortunately Bonnie wasn't done.
"But we did get a cold hit from another crime scene," she said. "How about that?"
What?! How about I shoot myself here in the Dragon Flower?
A vague and sickening dread hit the center of my chest like a punch.
"Run that by me again," I said to Bonnie.
"The Feds' CODIS database collects DNA samples from crime scenes across the country in order to ID perpetrators. It turns out, the same DNA from the semen on the blanket in your case was found at another crime scene – an armed robbery in Washington, DC. Happened nearly five years ago. The case was never closed."
The dread that had been operating in my stomach suddenly shifted its strategy for attack and caught me in a hammerlock around the throat. I was having trouble thinking, even sitting in an upright position.
No. It couldn't be. What Bonnie was saying meant that…