The Guilty - Jason Pinter [26]
"So, James, calling to shed light on more of Parker's
dietary habits?"
"Oh, no, Miss Cole, nothing like that." He paused. "So how
are you this morning?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm just fine, James. Skip the pleasantries."
"Right. No more pleasantries. Sorry about that, I..."
"James."
"Right. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I followed
Parker when he left his apartment this morning. He made one
call, then right after that another call came in. Then he went
into the Gazette and I lost him. Maybe I'll see if I can get a
temp ID, get into the building..."
"That's all right, James, your daddy doesn't need you
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Jason Pinter
getting arrested. Who was the first call to?" Paulina chewed
the swizzle stick from her coffee, wondering if snorting the
Xanax would make it take faster.
"I didn't catch everything, but the guy's first name was
Curtis. Parker said something about them meeting up later this
afternoon. They sounded tight."
Lovers? Paulina wondered. That'd be a hell of a story.
"And who called him right after?"
"No last name, but at one point he called her Mya. And
from the sound of it Parker didn't sound happy to hear from
her. Cut her off pretty quick."
The straw fell from Paulina's mouth. A smile spread over
her lips. Mya Loverne. Paulina knew that after his acquittal,
Henry had broken up with Mya for a new airhead named
Amanda Davies. Tossing aside his former love. Apparently,
the goods weren't so happy to be tossed aside.
Paulina had despised Henry Parker the moment she met
him. Given a cushy job by Wallace Langston despite the experience of a fetus. And to top it off, the court jester himself,
Jack O'Donnell, took the kid under his wing. Paulina had
sweat blood and tears over her ink for years, and Henry was
being groomed as the heir apparent. The newsman of the
twenty-first century whose balls had barely dropped.
And either directly or subversively, Paulina swore to be
the wrecking ball that tore it all down. And if she happened
to take down the Gazette with it, hell, that wouldn't be such
a bad morning.
"James, you just made my coffee taste better."
"Oh, that's swell, Miss Cole, and again I hope you know
how much I appreciate your trusting me with this assignment. I'm...wait, Parker's moving. I'll call you back when I
get anything new."
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"You do that, Jamesy, you do that."
"Hey, Miss Cole?" James said apprehensively. "Do you
think I can file expense reports for my breakfast? The bagels
at this place are like three bucks each."
"Not a chance, Jamesy. Talk to you later." She hung up.
15
I rounded the corner and saw him standing at a street vendor,
paying for coffee and a muffin and waiting for change.
"Make that two coffees," I said.
"My friend here will take his with twelve sugars," Curt
Sheffield said.
The vendor looked at me like I'd asked for a side of pork
loin. "That's a lot of sugar, man."
"Three Splendas," I said. "I thought cops weren't
allowed to lie."
"That's to suspects and witnesses. Not reporters. In fact,
that's encouraged."
Curt took his change. I watched in awe as he inhaled the
muffin in three bites.
"I think I've seen the same thing happen with boa constrictors. I bet if I look closely I can see a muffin-shaped protrusion in your uniform."
"Lay off, I haven't eaten since breakfast. You know at first
I liked the idea of being the NYPD's poster boy, but you
can't catch a break on the streets. Parents introducing their
kids to me like I'm walking around in a Mickey Mouse
costume or something."
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"If Mickey carried a loaded Glock." He licked the crumbs
from his fingers. "And aren't you guys supposed to eat donuts?"
Curtis sipped his coffee, wiped some crumbs from his
mouth. He nodded, said, "Let's go," through a mouthful, and
led me down the block. It was a cool afternoon, the streets
lined with people preparing for the commute home.
"So tell me about the note," I said.
"What, no foreplay?"
"Not when two people have been killed."
"That's our job to deal with," Sheffield said. "You