The Quickie - James Patterson [54]
Oh, no, I thought.
Oh fucking no!
Chapter 77
I FOLLOWED JEFF. His bureau chief’s office was a corner one, facing the stadium. You could see the Yankees right-field seats out the copper-rimmed window.
“Hey, you can spy on the bleacher creatures from here,” I said.
“How do you think I clear my fugitives’ docket?” Jeff joked. He looked down at his desk pensively, as if searching for the right words.
“Listen, Lauren. I like you. I really do. You’re a terrific cop and . . .”
“I’m married, Jeff,” I said with a grin.
“I know that. Okay. I guess I’ll just come out and ask. Did you have anything to do with the death of Scott Thayer?”
There it was. The bomb blast I’d been hoping would never come. I felt deaf for a second. I could almost feel my shadow burn into the wall behind me.
As I fought to gain back my breath, I wondered if they could process me right here in the courthouse. Send me out with the other prisoners in the van to Rikers Island.
“Of course,” I said after a long beat. I was smiling to let him know I thought he was joking. “I was the Homicide investigator in charge of his case.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Jeff said quietly.
I looked into the prosecutor’s eyes. What could I say now? What could I do?
Do something, a voice told me.
Fight. Or die.
“Yeah, well, what the hell do you mean, Jeff? What is this? Scott’s case is closed. I remember because the lid almost took my head off when it slammed. Has IAB called you? Is that what this is all about?”
“Three days ago, this office was contacted by the attorney of one Mr. Ignacio Morales,” Jeff said. “He was a bouncer at the club Wonderland, where you went to apprehend the Ordonez brothers.”
Oh, crap.
“Yeah, I remember Mr. Morales,” I said. “Did Mr. Morales happen to mention that he was about to rape me in the club’s basement?”
Jeff held up his hand as if to swat away that minor detail.
“He claims that the gun they found on Victor Ordonez’s body was removed from your handbag in a routine security search at the nightclub.”
I made my eyes bulge to project my outrage. I think Nicole Kidman would have been envious.
“And you believed this?” I said.
“Well, actually no,” Jeff said. “I trust that drug-pushing vermin about as far as I could bench-press him.”
Jeff reached into his drawer and took out a piece of paper.
“But then I saw this.”
It was Scott’s LUDs. Had my partner sent them to him? Even in my panic, I didn’t believe that. Ever-efficient, never-miss-a-thing genius Jeff must have asked for his own copy.
I’d been somewhat expecting this to come up. So I came out the only way I had left to me — swinging.
“So what?” I said. “So I knew Scott. We talked on the phone. Our relationship was nobody’s business, so I never mentioned it. There a crime in protecting my privacy?”
Instead of answering, Jeff took out another sheet of paper and pushed it across his desk.
It was a photocopy of a parking ticket for a motorcycle. It was really nice of him to allow me the time to thoroughly read the highlighted date and the address.
The Yonkers address half a block from my house.
A cathedral’s worth of panic bells went off inside me.
I hadn’t been expecting this one.
“That Yonkers PD ticket was scratched on Scott’s illegally parked vehicle a couple of hours before the coroner’s time of death,” Jeff said calmly. “I looked up the location on a map.
“It’s half a block from your house, Lauren. Talk to me here. Make all this make some sense. Because I have grand jury justification right now. A witness that saw you plant the gun. And evidence that puts Scott down the block from your house just before the ME’s time of death. I’ve won cases with far less, Lauren. But you’re a friend. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt before any formal proceedings. This is your first and last chance to tell me what happened, and to let me help you.”
Chapter 78
IT WAS TEMPTING. I’d held back so much for so long. Had lied to my friends and colleagues.
The desire to justify myself, to relieve myself of