CHAPTER TEN
Mitch returned from Dr. Patrick’s office even grumpier than when he’d gone up.
What the hell was the matter with him? He was a police officer, supposedly a trained observer, taught to notice anything and everything about a situation.
Yet, in his haste to seduce the doc, he’d somehow missed the gold band on her left hand.
She’d gotten married sometime last year, and he hadn’t heard about it.
Needless to say, sleeping with her to get out of the visits wasn’t in the cards. She’d made that clear right off the bat. He spent the whole thirty minutes giving the shortest answers possible to her mundane questions and left with an appointment for later that week.
“Didn’t know she’d gotten hitched, eh?” Adam was reading his mind again. Great, just what he needed.
From the passenger seat, he looked sideways at him. “Smart ass. You could’ve said something!”
“Like what? Hey, Mitch, in case you get the bright idea to sex your way out of this, she married a CIA agent about twice your size last summer?” He laughed. “Anyway, I figured you knew.”
“How do you know? You’ve been here all of ten minutes and seem to know everything about everybody!”
“Not really. The LT gave me the heads-up on Dr. Patrick. Said you two got together some time ago and wouldn’t put it past you to try again. Guess he knows you pretty well.”
“Apparently, I was invited to the wedding! You should see the rock on her finger. Don’t ask me how I missed that.” Mitch shook his head. “Hey, if you don’t turn up here, we’ll be off the beat. Take a left, and let’s find something to eat. I didn’t get enough at lunch.”
Adam continued straight through the light. “Yeah, well, that happens when you don’t actually eat lunch. Hey, I’ll take you to that pizza place I told you about earlier. We can grab a slice.”
“Dude, seriously, we just left the beat. You gotta turn around.”
Ignoring him, Adam parked the troller on a side street a few blocks up and shut off the engine. “Trust me. You’ll love this pizza.” He got out and started walking. Mitch looked up and realized he was heading straight toward the pawnshop he’d been driving by for months.
Vinnie’s Pizza had a huge “Grand Opening” banner above the doors and stood less than half a block up and on the other side of the street from Micky’s Pawnshop.
They bought a slice and grabbed a table at the window.
Mitch’s view was the front of the shop he’d been watching ever since he had word that Manuel had returned to town.
Adam looked him square in the eyes. “Fill me in on what you know. Why the interest in Micky’s?”
He hesitated. He hadn’t told anyone about his private, ongoing investigation.
It was common knowledge he was still actively looking, but he kept the details to himself.
He gathered information, did surveillance, and conducted “interrogations” off duty.
Fewer rules that way. Occasionally, his partner at the time would be around when he had an opportunity for information he couldn’t pass up.
Those bits of information eventually made the rounds at the station.
No one had ever offered to help. Is that what Adam was doing?
Or was he gathering ammo for the brass? His interest seemed genuine, but Mitch wasn’t sure who to trust anymore.
It would be nice, and possibly beneficial, to get a different perspective.
A second set of eyes to see if there was anything he was overlooking might help, but he barely knew Adam. He proceeded with caution.
“Everyone thinks he left town, but I don’t buy it.” He didn’t have to elaborate on who “he” was. Manuel was well-known to police even before shooting Jimmy.
The manhunt for Manuel Garcia Juarez was hot and furious after Jimmy was killed but had petered out as the months went by with no leads. Most figured he’d fled town and was back in Honduras, sipping Pinol and running his operation from there.
He disagreed. Being AWOL those first couple months, he’d missed a lot.
Yet another thing he chided himself for before falling asleep at night.
Those two selfish months spent in a drunken stupor could have made the difference.
Maybe he would have picked up on the one thing someone else had missed, and Manuel would be on death row by now.
Add it to the list of things he’d fucked up but couldn’t change.
“I read all the reports and interviewed everyone even remotely involved in the investigation. I never found any hard evidence that Manuel ever left the country.”
“So, you think he’s still in the city? Why wouldn’t he at least head west to lay low for a while?”
Mitch swallowed a bite of pizza and took a swig of Coke. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what he did. I’m not certain where he went, possibly Florida, but to answer your first question, yes, I do think he’s back in the city.”
“How come?”
“There’s been an increase in cocaine busts, and a lot of it is that Honduran shit Manuel is famous for.
It’s not like it ever left, but I’m convinced while he was out of town, his dealers got lazy, greedy, or both and weren’t selling as much.
They were giving it away, using it or hell, even losing it.
Now that the boss is back in town and presumably cracking the whip, business has picked up. That’s why we’re making more busts.”
Mitch had amassed an extensive collection of street contacts over the years.
He cultivated and nurtured relationships with business owners, hookers, thugs, and even school-aged kids.
He cut loose those who fed him bullshit and treated those who gave useful information well.
While there was no consensus on Manuel’s current residence, there were many willing to admit he was back in town, just keeping a very low profile.
Mitch hadn’t needed anyone to confirm that. He felt it. The son of a bitch was close, and Mitch wouldn’t stop until he was behind bars or better yet, dead.
“Makes sense. How does the pawnshop fit in?”
“When it comes to crime, Manuel doesn’t discriminate.
He’s a jack of all trades. Before,” he paused to clear his throat, “before the fucker killed Jimmy, he was just getting into trafficking illegal guns. He’s always run stolen goods out of Micky’s, but this was a behind closed doors kind of thing.
My theory is that he’s trying to start that up again. ”
Adam thought for a minute, then added, “He must still have the guns he was trying to sell back then and has just been waiting for things to cool off before getting back to it. You’re probably right.”
Mitch stood and grabbed his tray and to-go cup. “You ready?”
“Yeah, better get back before someone misses us. We shouldn’t hang out here in uniform anyway. Don’t want to scare anyone. I don’t live too far from here and can check it out occasionally while off-duty.”
“Thanks for showing me this place. It must have opened since I last came through here. You’re right. It’s perfect.”
Adam nodded in agreement. They dropped their trays in the designated spot and headed back to work.
***
Maggie wrapped up her last exam of the day, eager to be finished.
It was only Monday, but she felt a glass of wine and a hot bath in her future.
She coaxed Snuggles back into his cat carrier and hauled him out to the front of the store.
His owner had dropped him off with the promise she’d be back in an hour for him.
He could wait behind the counter for the next five minutes.
Stephanie was talking to someone at the counter. “Sure, we can have the doctor take a look.”
A tall, dark-haired man stood next to the counter holding a large birdcage covered in black. He looked anxious and was nervously shifting from foot to foot. “Oh, there she is. Maybe she’ll have time to check him out now,” Stephanie said.
The man didn’t even look up before doing an about-face and running out the door—without his bird.
“What the hell?” Stephanie watched incredulously as the man hightailed it down the street, coat flapping behind him. She got up to go after him but quickly sat back down, rubbing her ankle and cursing.
“What was that all about?” Maggie set the cat carrier on the floor behind the counter and peeked under the birdcage cover.
“I’m pretty sure that asshole just dumped his bird on us. What a douchebag!”
The store was empty, so Maggie didn’t worry about Steph’s language. She removed the cage cover to reveal a beautiful, multicolored parrot.
“Wow, he’s gorgeous. Hey there, big guy.” She leaned in.
The parrot opened its eyes. “Fuck me, yes, fuck me!” It was a woman’s voice, but neither Steph’s nor Maggie’s.
“Oh my God, yes, yes! Harder!” the parrot panted.
Maggie and Steph looked at each other with identical expressions of horror, then Steph burst out laughing.
“Polly has a potty mouth,” she choked out.
“Holy crap. We’ve got to cover that thing before someone comes in here.” She rushed to situate the cover, grabbed the cage, and made it to the back right as the bells on the front door rang to announce a customer.
Great, just what she needed. A pornographic parrot. After verifying there was food in the cage and adding a little water to the dish, she set it on a spare chair in her office, turned out the light, and left it. It would be fine for now.
She returned a second later, turned on the radio, and found a station that was broadcasting the Knicks game. Perhaps it could pick up some new phrases. Better sports talk than dirty talk.
By Thursday, she’d had enough. She had to fix this. The bird’s owner had either been a porn producer or an exceptionally sex-crazed couple that did nothing but “it.”
After sitting through a steady litany of profanity-laced sex talk most of the day, Maggie was eager to call it a week. She dedicated Thursdays to catching up on patient charts and business matters so she would have the option to take Fridays off, which she did frequently.
“That parrot is a piece of work,” she complained. “What are we going to do with it? You’re young and hip. Maybe one of your guy friends would get a kick out of it?”
Stephanie looked sympathetic. “Well, I can ask around, but don’t hold your breath. He’s funny at first, but I don’t see anyone wanting him long term.”
“I gave him a checkup. He’s nice and healthy, and he is learning a few new things. Now he yells ‘shut your filthy mouth’ in my voice and sounds just like me,” Maggie said. “Maybe he just needs more time listening to NPR.”
“Sounds like someone had an awesome sex life, though, right?” Steph sounded a tad bit jealous.
“Yeah. If I owned a parrot, all it would say is meow.”
Stephanie laughed out loud. “You aren’t quite cat lady material yet. In fact, Boxer’s dad seems interested in you. He asked about you when he picked up Boxer last week.”
“You didn’t mention ‘the incident,’ did you?” The incident was what they’d taken to calling her experience with Mitch and Adam the week before.
“No, but you should. He’d probably feel bad enough to take you to dinner…or something.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down in case Maggie didn’t catch on to what the “or something” meant.
“Yeah, some ‘or something’ is sounding pretty good right about now.” The sex drought had gone on long enough. She needed a man.
“Polly got you all hot and bothered?”
They both laughed.
“Speaking of hot and bothered, what happened with Officer McHottie?” Steph asked.
“You mean Officer MacDonald? The a-hole who gave me a ticket?”
“Ticket or not, you said yourself he was hot. And, you never followed through with your complaint.”
Maggie had given Steph an abbreviated version of the night at Jenny’s. She left out all the personal details about Mitch but recounted the way he’d carried her into the house, helped with her wounded knees, and apologized for the ticket.
“I couldn’t very well complain after finding out he’s one of Jenny’s best friends.”
“I suppose not,” Steph agreed.
A family of four came in asking about hamsters, which put an end to their conversation of hot dudes and sex.
“I’m outta here,” she said. “I’ll see you next week. Call if you need anything.”
Steph waved goodbye as she limped over to help the hamster-hunting family.
On the cab ride home, Maggie called Jenny to see if she was still interested in going out that weekend.
As much as she hated to admit it, that damned parrot did have her all hot and bothered.
She needed to step-up her manhunt. Even if she could just find someone to make out with.
At this point, any physical contact would be an improvement over the last few months.
Jenny seemed hesitant, but after admitting she had something she desperately needed to talk to Maggie about anyway, finally agreed to meet her at a local bar downtown that Saturday.