toughing it out, hasn't gotten herself a lawyer.'
April paused. She knew the type, the kind who thought they could handle anything. She went on, 'Wendy's profile doesn't make her a perfect fit for this kind of hit. And there's no motive. But she has some empty cupboards.... Where are you now?'
'I'm finishing up at ER.'
'What happened? Are you okay?'
'Oh, yeah, it's nothing.'
'Mike, you want me to meet you? I could come over,' April offered quickly.
'I need to crash for a few hours. Where are you?'
'I just got home. I'm still in my car. I could come over,' she repeated. She wanted to clap eyes upon him, make sure he was all right. But he wasn't going to let her.
'Get some sleep. I'll pick you up at seven.' His voice cracked and died.
'Damn.'
The phone rang again and she answered, hoping it was Mike calling back to enlighten her.
'Sergeant Woo.'
'April, thank God I got you. I've called and called. Are you all right?'
'Ching, of course I'm fine.' April inhaled deeply.
'I hate not being able to reach you,' Ching complained.
April crawled out of the car. 'I'm on a homicide, you know how it is. But I'm here now, just got home. I'm walking up the walk. Talk to me.'
'Have you arrested the killer?' Ching asked, breathless with hope. 'There wasn't anything on the news.'
'We're real close,' April lied. She put her key in the lock, opened the door. Inside it was still quiet. Her parents had not returned from their little trip to New Jersey.
'It's been almost a week.' Her voice sounded accusing. 'How can you not know?'
'It's been only three days,' April corrected her. It was a complicated case, a bizarre case. There was a lot to sort through. She didn't want to be defensive. 'It's coming together,' she said. 'We'll nail it soon.'
'Did you talk to Tang yet?'
'Not yet.' April took the stairs to her apartment two at a time. 'When is your next fitting? I want to go with you.'
Ching hesitated. 'Well, sure you can. But April, your dress isn't from Tang's,' she confessed.
'My dress?' April kicked her door closed, hit the light switch, and collapsed on her pink sofa. She hadn't had time to think about dresses.
'I want you to be my maid of honor. I want you to stand at my side and say something at the reception,' Ching blurted.
Maid of honor? Say something? April was stunned. She'd had no idea this was in the wind. 'Did Mike have something to do with this?'
'Please, April. Just a short speech. It's time the girls stand up, not just the guys. The fathers, know what I mean?' Ching was pleading. 'You're my sister. I want to honor you. You can't say no,' Ching said.
April shuddered at the thought of being on display, making a speech. 'I don't know.' It was a bad time.
'I got you a drop-dead dress. It will be ready on Saturday. Will you pick it up?' Ching wheedled.
'Ching, I'm very touched, but you didn't have to do that.'
She didn't say it.
'Of course, I had to do it. My fitting at Tang's is Monday. Will the case be solved by then?'
That was four days away. 'Absolutely,' April promised.
'You'll pick up your dress on Saturday?'
'Okay, sure. I'll pick it up.' She loved Ching. She didn't want to be selfish, thinking only of herself. Of course she would do whatever Ching asked.
'I'll come with you, okay? I want to see your face when you try it on.'
'I love you, Ching,' April said suddenly. 'Don't be nervous. It's going to be a great wedding.'
'Love you, too, April. I know it will.' Ching hung up, and April was alone in the empty house. Skinny Dragon wasn't home, so there was no late-night conversation, no force-feeding. She didn't like the feeling.
Mike didn't answer either of his phones. He told her he'd picked up a suspect, Louis's African, Jama/Brother. Mike was in the ER, but who had the nothing? Just like him not to make a big deal of it! She brooded as she brushed her teeth and drank down three glasses of water, too dred to forage for food. She hoped Mike was all right, figured he was all right and just didn't want to be with her. That upset her, too. She knew she wasn't going to sleep at all. She got in bed and brooded. Jama had to be their man, had to be. Mike had broken the case. Maybe it was over. But where did that leave Wendy. • • • She fell asleep right away.
Twenty-nine
A
t seven A.M. sharp on Thursday morning Mike parked his Camaro in front of April's Le Baron and pulled himself out of the car with far less energy than usual. April had been waiting for him by the window and saw right away that his right cheekbone was bruised and a white bandage decorated his forehead. He hated showing wear and tear, so he held his hand over it as if shading the morning light. She had her answer. Brother must have resisted being taken in.
'Looks worse than it is,' Mike said sheepishly as she ran out to give him a long hug.
'How's the other guy?' she asked lightly. Mike was on his feet, nothing in a sling. She knew better than to make a big deal about it if he didn't.
'Heavily sedated on the psych ward. Hungry?'
'Yes.'
April didn't want to admit that she'd missed dinner and missed him, but at least last night there had been a reason. She gave him another hug and climbed into the car, making it a point not to press him for details as they headed up to the Bronx. They stopped for a big breakfast in a diner. Mike ordered bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, lots of ketchup.
While they were waiting to be served she skirted the subject, keeping neutral. Was Brother their man? Come on, give.
'Stitches?' she asked about his forehead.
'Only six. Right along the hairline.' He sugared his coffee heavily, then sipped. 'Not as good as yours,' he commented, giving her a crooked smile. 'Are you missing me yet?'
She nodded. 'What do you think? Is Brother our killer?'
Mike stirred in more sugar. Four packets made it a record. 'I want to think we have him. He seemed pretty out of it last night, but drugs could do that. When he comes around, we'll see how connected he is to reality.' He touched his forehead. 'I'll tell you, he has a lethal kick. I wasn't expecting it,' he admitted. 'Careless.'
April's heart thudded. Between the two of them, Mike was the dirtier
fighter, but she had it all over him in kickboxing and karate. She felt she should have been there. She didn't say a word. The food came. They started eating. Two fried eggs suddenly didn't seem like enough. Mike ordered pancakes, too.
'I hope he's our guy,' she said.
she prayed, pouring on the syrup with a heavy hand.
'Let's hope. I think Louis is involved somehow, but I don't see him as a killer. The question is, did the African leave in Louis's truck at two-thirty, as Tito and Louis said he did, or did he stay behind? If he stayed behind, how did he get back to the city? Subway? Bus? Did he ditch the gun in a garbage can? Did they wait for him?'
All the garbage cans in the area had been thoroughly searched on Sunday and Monday, but the killer could have dumped it in the Hudson River. There were many places to get rid of a gun.
