Good news traveled fast.
Jack listened, brow furrowed, as his FBI colleague in New Orleans described the latest murder in the French Quarter. Jack slammed his fist on the desk when he heard that Piper was the one who had made the 911 call to the police.
Barely anyone looked up from the other desks in the New York squad room. They were used to Jack’s temper. Though he preferred to call it passion.
At first Jack was furious at the thought of the NOPD putting a tail on Piper. She was no more a murderer than the man in the moon. But the more he thought about it, Jack decided against calling and putting in a good word for her with the cops down there.
Let them keep her under police surveillance. At least she’d be safe.
“All right, thanks, Louie,” said Jack resignedly. “Keep me posted, willya, buddy?”
When he hung up the phone, Jack wanted to call Piper and make sure she was all right. Yet he didn’t. Maybe she had to really be left on her own for now. Maybe then she would finally learn her lesson. She was an actress and a cake designer, not a law-enforcement officer.
He thought, Sometimes the best love is tough love.