Storm Demon
Page 29
“You want to meet her?”
“Sure.”
Maria led him into the squad room. “Since me and Bernie found Alice’s body, we’re investigating her murder, which ties in with some others we’re working on.”
“I feel sorry for Raheem.”
“I always get my man.”
Bernie looked up at Jake, who sensed the man’s dislike for him.
“How’s it going?” Jake said.
Standing, Bernie offered his hand. “Helman.”
Jake shook his hand. “Jake will do.”
Maria took her seat. “Shana, this is my friend Jake.”
“Are you a police detective, too?” Shana said.
“No, he isn’t,” Bernie said a little too fast.
“I’m a private eye. You know, like on TV?”
Shana nodded.
Jake offered his hand. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hello.”
The little girl shook his hand.
“Aren’t you going to help me with that problem?” Jake said to Maria.
“Oh, right.” Maria stood. “I suppose you want me to help you jump the line.”
“Something like that.”
Maria led him across the squad room.
“Do you want a roommate for a few days or weeks?” he said. “My place isn’t exactly livable.”
“It will be days before I can even get to mine.”
“What are you going to do until then?”
“We’ve got cots here.”
“That will give you time to weigh my finer qualities.”
“I already know what those are. Where will you stay?”
“Maybe I’ll find someplace shady tonight and hike to Joyce and Edgar’s tomorrow.”
They passed Mauceri. “Helman?”
They turned to him in unison.
“Hey, L.T.,” Jake said.
The lieutenant looked at them together, then shrugged and clasped Jake’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you.” Then he walked away.
Jake smiled at Maria. “Do you think he’d mind if I crashed in one of the interview rooms?”
It turned out the interview rooms had been converted into dormitories for the precinct cops, who had also taken over the roll call room.
It wasn’t hard to find a place to crash for one night. Except for storefronts with metal security gates, all the buildings in Manhattan had broken glass doors, and Jake found an evacuated one on Madison and Twenty-sixth. He didn’t like breaking and entering, but he ended up staying in a decent one-bedroom apartment with a lovely view of the Tower.
Out of respect for the missing tenants and out of fear for his own health, he slept on the sofa in the darkened apartment, surrounded by black-and-white photos of screwball comedy stars and clutching his flashlight, with his hunting knife beneath the cushion serving as his pillow. Howling wind did not keep him awake, but the sounds of helicopters and motorboats did, and on occasion searchlights shot through the broken windows.
Jake didn’t know what time he finally fell asleep, but when he awoke in the morning it pleased him that he hadn’t dreamed of Avademe. He helped himself to cereal and coffee, then pulled on his wet shorts and headed out.
The water level had receded to three feet deep, and hundreds of police officers, firemen, engineers, and city workers waded around the disaster areas. Helicopters circled the sky, and Jake found it too difficult to count the number of boats spread out in the water around Madison and Twenty-third.
As he approached a human barricade comprised of National Guards, he studied his building; all the windows were broken. Laurel’s parlor and the front of the building were buried in limestone.
“No one is permitted beyond this point, sir,” said one of the guards.
“I’m a tenant in that building,” Jake said.
“You’re still not permitted beyond this point.”
“I can’t conduct business without documents in my office.”
“How are you going to get in? The entrance is blocked.”
Jake gestured with his hand. “I could climb up those rocks and enter through the second floor.”
“That’s unlikely. Besides, no one is going into any of those buildings until the engineers say it’s safe to do so. Any one of them could come down.”
“Just make sure no one else goes in there, okay?”
The guard said nothing and Jake waded away.
“Jake!”
Jake turned to see Jackie.
“This is some shit, huh?” he said, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“I’m glad you’re still with us,” Jake said. He looked around at the people milling about in the water, shooting photos and gawking at the destruction. “I have some bad news for you.”
Jackie gestured at the building. “Worse than this?”
“I’m afraid so; Laurel’s dead.”
The ruddiness drained from Jackie’s features. “How do you know?”
“I saw her body with my own eyes. Her death may become public knowledge, but I need to be left out of it.”
Jackie nodded with a distant look in his eyes. He drew a folded sealed envelope from his back pocket and held it out to Jake. “I’ve been carrying this around since she disappeared. She told me to give it to you if her death was ever confirmed.”
Jake tore open the envelope, unfolded the documents inside, and skimmed them. He raised his eyebrows, then handed the paperwork back to Jackie. “Congratulations. You’re the proud owner of one building in serious need of repair.”
Jackie raised his eyebrows as well.
“Laurel was Eden, Inc.,” Jake said. “This document transfers ownership of Eden to you. That building’s got to be worth four million dollars.”
Jackie read the paperwork. “It says here that you get to keep your office for one dollar a month for twenty years and her parlor for the same length of time.”
“You take the parlor. I can’t use it. But rent it out to a deli, will you?”
Jackie shook his head. “You rent it out to a deli. If you don’t want the parlor, the proceeds of its rental go to you, not me. I can live with that.”
Jake grunted his surprise. Laurel had provided him with a free office and an additional means of income. “So can I.” He looked at the building. “I sure hope she carried flood insurance.”
Three days later, Jake and Maria helped Edgar, Joyce, and Martin load their belongings into a U-Haul. The July sun blazed down on them, and they wiped away their sweat and drank lemonade. Queens had been spared the awesome fury of Hurricane Daria.
Joyce held her house keys out to Jake. “Take good care of it.”
Jake pocketed the keys. “I will. I promise. And I’ll find you a suitable tenant when my office is ready for me to move back into.”
Joyce glanced at Maria. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
The two women embraced.
Jake rubbed the back of Martin’s head. “Stay out of trouble in North Carolina. Don’t make me come down there and kick your butt.”
Martin grinned. “Okay.”
Martin hugged Maria and Jake hugged Joyce. Then Joyce and Martin got into Joyce’s SUV.
Maria faced Edgar. “I guess this is it.”
“Yeah. Keep this knucklehead in line, will you?”
“I’ll do my best. Take care of yourself, partner. Thanks for teaching me to be a murder police.”
“Thank God I did a better job with you than I did with Jake.”
They kissed each other on the cheek.
“What do you think you’re going to do down there?” Jake said.
“Find myself and spend time with my family. It’s not like I’m going to Mars.”
Jake looked away. “I don’t know about that.”
“This city’s gotten too crazy for me. I need a slower train if I’m going to get back on track. I told Geoghegan where he can find me, but I’m pretty sure they don’t plan to file charges against me for Katrina’s death. You should think ab
out going somewhere, too.”
Jake shrugged. “I think I’ll stick around.”
“Then at least stop looking for trouble.”
“It has a habit of finding me.”
Edgar and Jake hugged, then patted each other on the back.
Edgar walked around the SUV and slid behind the wheel.
Jake and Maria waved to Joyce and Martin, then sat on the steps and watched the SUV pull out, trailer in tow.
“I’m happy for them,” Maria said.
“Me, too.” He turned to her. “Any luck with Carrie?”
Maria shook her head. “Most of our systems are still down, but if she’s left the city she’s got some damn good fake ID.”
Jake scanned the neighborhood. “Then she might still be here somewhere.”
“Maybe.” She paused. “The building management company for the Flatiron found the bodies on the roof.”
“Big news?” Manhattan still lacked power, and Jake’s phone service hadn’t reactivated.
“The decapitation by sword of the Queen of Romance and the unexplained death of Erika Long beside her? Small potatoes compared to the heavenly hurricane. From what I’ve seen on the news sites, the media’s been taken hostage for religious debate.” Maria set one hand on his thigh. “Forget all of that for a minute. What about you and me? Are we going to try to make this work?”
Meeting her gaze, he tried not to think about Carrie or Afterlife or how the world would react to the bizarre deaths of Erika Long and Lilian Kane. He tried to put the Realm of Light and the Dark Realm and Cain and Abel and Sheryl out of his mind. He just wanted to think about Maria and what she meant to him.
“Yes,” he said.
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