The Quickie - James Patterson [43]
“Please,” Mike said, tipping his bottle in my direction. “I watch your back, you watch mine. As far as I’m concerned, the police department consists of me and you. We’re like that commercial for Vegas. What happens here stays here. Which reminds me.”
Mike put down his beer and lifted up some papers from the seat beside him.
Even in the dim bar light, I could see they were print-outs. The burger I was chewing seemed to transform itself instantly into ketchup-flavored matchsticks as I spotted the rows and columns of numbers.
“I found this in the fax machine yesterday,” Mike said. “Phone company sent over a second copy of Scott’s Local Usage Details for some reason. How do you like that? It looks just like the one that you put on my desk, except this copy has your phone number all over it.”
Across the scarred table, Mike drank in his beer, and my complete astonishment.
“It’s time to talk to me, partner,” he said. “It’s time to unburden your soul to Father Mike.”
Chapter 62
“LAUREN, C’MON,” Mike whispered to me as I sat there numb and speechless. “You didn’t think you could get one over on me, did you? I mean, you’re good, better than good, at what we do, but we’re talking about me here.”
I held my Diet Coke up to my suddenly hot forehead. My God, what was I going to do now? I was busted. Busted lying to my partner. How could I have done that to him? Mike had a heart bigger than most continents. And he was my partner, my lifeline, my guardian angel on the street.
I looked down at the surface of the table, then at the dark-paneled walls of the bar, anywhere but my partner’s face.
He was right, though. I had to confess. If there was anyone who I could — and should — spill my guts to, it was him. I had lied by omission and every other way, and he had killed a man because of it. Full disclosure was the least I could do for Mike.
But wait a second, I thought. No! I couldn’t. If Mike got jammed up with IAB, he’d roll on me. He’d have to. He couldn’t lose his job. He was divorced, but he had two kids in college. He would have to tell what he knew, and the rest of the truth would come out, too. We’d be back to square one. Paul going to prison and Brooke without any means of support. No, I thought. It would actually be even worse now. I’d probably be going to jail along with Paul!
The last thing I wanted to do to my partner was be cruel — but I didn’t see any alternative as I tried to think things through.
Finally, I pulled my eyes down from the gin mill’s tin ceiling and smacked them into Mike’s head-on.
“Leave it alone, partner,” I said.
Mike made a face like I’d just shot him with a Taser. I thought the trembling, green bottle in his big hand was going to explode. For a few moments, his mouth worked silently, like a clubbed fish’s.
“L-L-Leave it alone?” he stammered finally. “You were sleeping with him, weren’t you, Lauren? You were cheating with Scott Thayer, was that it? Why didn’t you just tell me? I’m your partner, your friend.”
“Mike,” I begged him with tears forming in my eyes, “please leave it alone.”
“I killed a man, Lauren!” Mike’s whisper screamed at me. “There’s blood on my hands.”
I stood, lifted my bag.
I didn’t want to threaten my partner, but I was backed into a corner. There was no other way.
“Yes, there is, Mike,” I said, dropping a twenty on my uneaten fries. “You did kill a man. I was the only witness, remember? That’s why you of all people have to leave it alone.”
Chapter 63
ON MY WAY HOME, I called Keane and told him I felt dizzy and that I was taking a sick day. As I hung up, I realized it was one of the first times in a while I’d actually told him the truth.
I felt like I was stepping into a crypt when I opened the front door of my empty house. I decided to go for a jog and suited up. I drove to Tibbetts Brook Park five minutes away and did my usual two laps around the lake with its art-deco pool house. Jeez, it was a beautiful afternoon. Bright, yet cool. Perfect for a run. I even spotted a crane standing among the