36

“How did it go?” Reese revved the engine of the Dodge Charger he’d plucked from the pool at the police garage earlier.

Lauren slid into the passenger side. The computer that should have been mounted to the dash was gone; an empty bracket faced them. The car rattled, making a knocking sound if the wheel was turned too fast. That’s what happens when you get to the garage late. Lauren strapped herself in. All the good ones are taken. “As well as could be expected.”

Reese was parked in front of a fire hydrant directly in front of Mark’s office building. A female office worker, smoking a cigarette off to the side of the main doors, was giving them the stink eye. “Can we take off before she makes a complaint?”

“Let’s go.”

Putting the car in gear, he eased into traffic carefully. “I should make a complaint against her for wearing sneakers with office attire.”

“You’ll be looking for a new job with those same fashion police if you keep blocking fire hydrants.”

Reese changed the subject. “What did Mark say?”

“That he’ll do it. He’ll get the tickets. But he’s not happy with me and I don’t blame him.”

“I don’t blame him, either,” Reese said, matter-of-factly. “You’re a cold, heartless man-eater.”

Lauren fought back the urge to punch him. She might reinjure herself pummeling him.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw it was Violanti calling her back. She didn’t bother to greet him. “Well?”

“David says he friended her months ago. He tried to friend Lindsey, but she never answered his request, and he would have friended you if he had known you were on Facebook. He says he didn’t mean anything by it and he’s sorry you’re so upset.”

“He’s sorry I’m upset? He’s stalking my daughter and he doesn’t think I should be upset?”

“He doesn’t think of it like that. In fact, he’s unhappy that you’re being so hostile toward him.”

That was rich, coming from Violanti. “I’m hostile to murderers in general. He shouldn’t take it personally.”

“David is not a murderer. Just because you changed your mind about that after the trial doesn’t mean you get to freak out at every move he makes.”

“I changed my mind during the trial, but it was already too late. And I will freak out if I think my daughters’ safety is compromised in any way.”

Violanti sighed into the phone. “He would never hurt you or your daughters. Buffalo is a small place, though. David’s path will cross yours at some point. All I can tell you is that he’s not sitting home obsessing about it the way you are. Everything is not about you, Lauren.”

That pissed her off. “It’s not about me. It’s about my kids.”

“That’s a load of shit,” he shot back at her. “I don’t know if you attract crazy men or you drive them crazy. Maybe you should spend your energy trying to find the guy who broke into your office instead of worrying about what David is doing.”

Sharply sucking in her breath, Lauren held back the flood of obscenities she wanted to hurl at Violanti. She managed to squeeze out a tight-lipped, “Thanks for all your help. I can see that this dialogue we’ve established has been extremely productive.”

“One last thing,” he said before she could hit the end button. “I really don’t know what’s going on in your or David’s head, but I’m telling you, your mutual fascination with each other is weird, and it ends for me now. Don’t call me anymore.”

Violanti hung up on her.

She sat for a second, digesting the conversation. They were stopped in traffic on Elmwood Avenue, in view of the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, ironically where she’d married Mark Hathaway.

Giving her a sideways glance, Reese asked, “You okay?”

“You heard that, right?”

He nodded, looking up at the traffic signal. “I did.”

“What do you think?”

“Let it go for now. He’s right about one thing; you have enough going on trying to put away the Schultz brothers to worry about Spencer.”

They were right. She was letting David Spencer sidetrack her when she needed to be focused. “Okay, Reese. What are we going to do about that?”

Reese turned the car southward, almost hitting a city bus as he pulled a U-turn in the middle of traffic. The driver popped the bird at them through the window. Reese didn’t bother to send him one back. Instead he told Lauren, “Let’s go talk to Charlie in the graveyard. We’re going to need him.”