like Ripton didn't do anything just because.
'Anyway, I thought I'd let you know that I talked to Toby about the limo driver you wanted to know about.' Nikki actually shook her head at the mentality of handlers like this. Working the wealthier streets of the Upper West Side over the years, she had seen it so many times. The entourages and insulators who think speaking on behalf of an interviewee precludes the need for her to ask the questions herself.
'I wanted you to know Tobe doesn't recall having any beef with a driver. And I believe him.'
'Gee,' she said, 'then what more do I need?'
'All right, all right, I hear you. You're going to want to talk to him yourself, I know that. And, like I said today, we'll work out a time. But I'm trying to not be a dick here. Not so easy, in case you haven't noticed.'
'So far, so good.' She kept it offhand. No sense engaging The Firewall's firewall.
'I'm trying to get you what you want and, at the same time, get my guy some breathing room to man up for his return to the mound.'
'No, I get it. But you're right, Jess, I am still going to want to talk to him myself.'
'Sure, and if you can wait a day or two,' he said, 'I'll be in your debt.'
'So what does that get me? Cover of Time? Person of the Year issue?'
'I've gotten similar for lesser people.' He paused, and then sounding almost human, he said, 'Listen, it's been on my mind since you took that parting shot at me at the Stade. About keeping my eyes open about Toby?' This is another place where experience had taught the detective to work the silence. She waited him out and he continued. 'I don't worry about him. Like when he says he had no problems with any drivers? I don't blink. He's got that common touch, you know? Drivers, waiters, his house servants, all love him. You should roll with him. Treats them right, big tipper, gives 'em gifts. Toby Mills is just not what I'd call a big trouble guy.'
'And where does kicking in Cassidy Towne's door fit on that good-guy scale?'
'Look, we covered that. He lost his temper. He was the lion protecting his cubs. In fact, that's why I'm calling.'
Here it was, thought Nikki. Never failed, the cream center in the Oreo cookie of a peacemaker's phone call. 'He wanted me to ask where you stood with that stalker of his.'
The question, not to mention the thin pretext for the call, irritated her, but Nikki actually sympathized with it. The kid from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, might be a millionaire, but Toby Mills was a dad whose family was harassed. 'I've got a detective assigned to that, and we're working with two other precincts to find him. Tell your client we'll let you know whenever we turn up anything.'
'Appreciate that,' he said. And, having delivered his message, he made a quick good-bye. Rook stood in the Observation Room of Interrogation 2, holding two cups. One was steaming and the other was sweating chilled condensation onto his fingers as he looked through the magic glass at Raley and Ochoa, who had commandeered the mini conference table for their paper chase. He set down the cold cup so he could open the door, then made sure to put a smile on and entered to join them.
'Hey, Roach.'
The two detectives didn't look up from the phone records spread before them, nor did they address Rook. Instead, Raley said to his partner, 'Look who just gets to roam free around the building now, unsupervised.'
Ochoa glanced at the visitor. 'Not even wearing a leash, what's that about?'
'Well,' said Raley, 'he is paper trained.'
'That's funny from you.' Ochoa chuckled. 'Paper trained. Clever.'
Raley looked up from his work, at the other cop across the table. 'Clever?'
'Come on, Rales, he's a writer. 'Paper trained'?'
Rook laughed. It sounded a little forced because it was. 'My God, is this Interrogation 2, or have I stumbled into the Algonquin Roundtable?'
Roach put their noses back into their printouts. 'Help you, Rook?' said Ochoa.
'Heard you guys were flogging the paperwork pretty hard, so I brought you some refreshment.' He set a cup beside each. 'One coffee, hazelnut creamer for you, and for Detective Raley, some sweet tea.' He noticed an eye flick from Raley to Ochoa. It transmitted some disdain, low-grade stuff, like the vibe he had gotten from them since his return. After both muttered absent 'Thanks, man' s and just kept reading, he almost left. Instead, he sat.
'Want a hand with this? Maybe spell one of you?'
Raley laughed. 'Hey, the writer say he wants to spell us, that's clever, too.'
Ochoa gave him a flat stare. 'I don't get it.'
'Forget it, just forget it.' Raley turned sideways in his chair and stewed.
Ochoa enjoyed his moment of busting his partner's chops and then air slurped his coffee, which was still too hot to drink. He set down his cup and then rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. Poring over phone records was just one typical donkey chore in a detective's day. But Esteban Padilla had had several phones and made a lot more calls than they had anticipated for a produce truck driver, and this task, after so much seatwork looking through limo manifests, was making both cops paper blind. It was why they had moved the chore to Interrogation. Not just for the table space, but for the peace. And now, here was Rook. 'OK. Want to tell us what this is about? The waiting on us, the 'Howya doin', Roach,' the offer to help with all this?'
'All right,' said Rook. He waited for Raley's attention, which he got. 'Yeah, it's sort of… Call it an olive branch.' When neither detective responded, he continued. 'Look, you know and I know there has been an undercurrent of tension since the moment I saw you in the kitchen at Cassidy Towne's. Am I right?'
Ochoa picked up his cup again. 'Hey, we're just doing the job, man. As long as that works, I'm cool.' He tested the coffee and then took a long sip.
'Come on. Something's going on here and I want to clear the air between us. Now, I'm not insensitive. I know what's different. My article. It's because I didn't give you guys enough credit, is that it?' They didn't say anything. It struck him right then what room he was in and how ironic that here he was interrogating two detectives, trying to get them to talk. So he played his ace card. 'I'm not going anywhere until you tell me.'
A look passed between them both, but again Ochoa spoke. 'OK, since you ask, yeah. But I wouldn't call it getting credit. It's more like, you know, we're a team. Just like you've seen us do it. So it's not about getting our names in more or being made heroes, we don't want any of that. Just how come it wasn't more like it's all of us together, you know? That's all.'
Rook nodded. 'I thought so. It wasn't intentional, I assure you, and if I had it to do over, I'd write it differently. I'm sorry, guys.'
Ochoa studied Rook. 'All I can ask.' He stuck out his hand, and after they shook, he turned to his partner. 'Rales?'
The other detective seemed more tentative, but he said, 'Cool,' and also shook with the writer.
'Good,' said Rook. 'Now, my offer still stands. How can I help here?'
Ochoa beckoned him to scoot his chair closer. 'What we're doing is going over Padilla's phone records looking for any calls that weren't to friends, family, his boss, whatever.'
'You're trying to spot anything out of pattern.'
'Yeah. Or a pattern that tells us something.' Ochoa handed a phone record to Rook and placed a pink sheet listing the friend and family and work numbers on the table between them. 'You see any numbers that don't appear on the pink sheet, hit 'em with the highlighter, got it?'
'Got it.' Just as Rook began to scan the first line of calls, he felt Raley's eyes on him and looked up.
'I have to say this, Rook. There is one more thing bugging me, and if I don't get it off my chest, it's just going to keep eating and eating at me.'
Rook could see the gravity of this on his face and set down his sheet. 'Sure, let me hear it, let's get it all out. What do you want to say to me?'
Raley said, 'Sweet Tea.'
Puzzled, Rook said, 'Help me out here. You don't like the tea?'
'No, not the damn tea. My nickname. Sweet Tea. You put it in the article, and now everybody's calling me that.'
Ochoa said, 'I haven't noticed that.'
'Why would you? You aren't me.'
'Again, I apologize,' said Rook. 'Better?'
Raley shrugged. 'Yeah. Now that I unloaded, yeah.'
