It was almost ten on Wednesday morning before the union rep and the fire department lawyer finished the paperwork that would free Marenko—at least for the time being—from police custody. The cuffs were removed, but a million other indignities took their place. Marenko was suspended for thirty days without pay, pending the outcome of the investigation. He was stripped of his badge and his right to carry a weapon. He didn’t have a passport, but he had to agree to surrender his birth certificate so he couldn’t leave the country. He had to submit to random drug and alcohol tests, which meant he’d be slugging down O’Douls until this was over. And he couldn’t leave the state without special written permission.
Marenko’s face dropped. “Not even Jersey?” Georgia recalled that his brother Pete was having a family get-together there on Labor Day.
“Most people don’t think of that as a punishment,” cracked Detective Leahy. Georgia, who had driven over from Fort Totten as soon as she got word he’d be released, shot Leahy a dirty look.
Mac got his wallet and keys back, but it would be a month or two before the crime lab returned his car. He and Georgia left the station by the rear exit doors. Word had already leaked out about Marenko’s arrest, but the cops on duty cut him a break and told the media he was being held at a different precinct to give him a head start.
The blinding morning sun caught both of them off guard as they walked out of the building. Georgia put on her sunglasses. Marenko brought a hand up to cover his eyes.
“I know you want to go home, Mac. But first, we have to talk.”
“You gonna ball me out about being with Connie?”
“No. I think it’s best if I explain while we grab some breakfast. Are you hungry?”
Marenko looked down at his baggy brown trousers and wrinkled T-shirt. “Scout, I need a shower and a shave bad, and I’ve got maybe ten dollars in my wallet.”
“But are you hungry?” she asked.
“Are you kidding? I could eat your cooking.”
“Don’t bite the hand that’s going to feed you.”
They found a diner three blocks away peopled by annoyed Greek owners and harried Mexican busboys. Marenko chose a spot in the smoking section in back. He went to light up the moment the waitress brought their water. Georgia cupped a hand over his.
“Mac, please. I know you’re smoking a lot because you’re under stress, but it’s first thing in the morning.”
He put the cigarettes back in his pocket, but couldn’t resist a shake of the head. “Man, the law won’t let me drink. You won’t let me smoke. I might as well be in jail.” His eyes traveled down her tight-fitting rib-knit T-shirt, stopping at the zipper of her faded jeans. “With everything that’s been happening, I haven’t asked if you…”
Georgia shook her head. “Ten days. No period.”
“Well”—he tossed off a laugh—“you can’t sue me for child support. I won’t even be getting a paycheck.”
“How’s that going to go down with…?”
Marenko put his hands over his ears, as if to ward off a blow. “I don’t even want to think about it. Forget the money. What do I tell my kids?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I would hurt her, Scout,” he mumbled, as if arguing with himself. “I’ve never raised a hand to a woman in my life. I keep thinking maybe I had a seizure.”
“But surely you’d remember something,” said Georgia.
He ran his fingers through his matted hair. “I don’t even know where she is or how I ended up in this state. I’m scared for her. I’m scared for me. And no one believes me. No one.”
“I believe you.”
His blue eyes locked on hers. Even unshaven and grimy, he could still send an electric jolt to her heart. “Thank you,” he said softly. He put one of his large, callused hands on top of hers. “That means a lot…You mean…”
The waitress appeared at Marenko’s elbow. “Do you know what you want?”
Georgia studied the menu. “Scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee. Side of whole wheat, no butter.”
Marenko raised an eyebrow. “What’s this ‘no butter’ stuff? You got maybe two thousand calories there. Butter ain’t gonna make a difference.”
“Well, it’s a start,” said Georgia. Marenko smiled at the waitress, who seemed to blush under that wattage. He never tried, never even seemed to give it much thought, yet he always had that effect on women.
“I’ll have the same,” he said. “Extra butter on my toast.”
The waitress took their menus, and Marenko went to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned, he had a serious, questioning look in his eyes.
“Chief Brennan was at the station house last night,” he said. “He talk to you at all?”
“He did,” said Georgia.
“About me?”
“He asked what our relationship was and how Connie fit into all of this.”
“And?”
“And what, Mac? I told him the truth.”
“Aw, Jeez.” He pulled a face.
“What?” asked Georgia, annoyed. “You want me to lie to the chief fire marshal of the city of New York in a murder investigation? A man you consider your own personal rabbi in the department?”
He leaned back in the Naugahyde booth and palmed his tired eyes. “I’m just sayin’—you know—that since you had nothing to do with the situation at Connie’s, you could’ve just told Brennan we were friends. For chrissake, Scout, he’s my boss. How’s it gonna look?”
“So in the future, if I know something, I should keep it to myself—is that right?”
“Well…yeah.” Marenko shrugged. The waitress brought their food.
“There you go. Extra butter for you, sir,” the woman said, blushing at him. It looked as though she’d freshened her lipstick, too. Georgia’s eyes narrowed.
“Bet they don’t feed you like that in jail.” Georgia smiled up at the waitress. “He just got out of jail, you know. For murder.”
The waitress left the table quickly. Marenko frowned.
“What did you tell her that for?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. I’m supposed to keep things to myself.”
“Women.” Marenko rolled his eyes and stuffed a forkful of scrambled egg in his mouth. He took a sip of water. “So Brennan knows who’s sleeping with who—is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll handle it myself.”
Marenko put down his fork and stared at her. “Does it have to do with Connie?”
“I’m not sure.”
“If it does, you owe it to me to tell me.”
“Chief Brennan doesn’t want me to.”
“Well, the chief ain’t looking at twenty-five-to-life.”
“And you just finished lecturing me about keeping things to myself.”
“But not from me,” Marenko said indignantly. “Scout, I’ve told you everything I know about Connie and last night. I swear. I couldn’t have hurt her. I didn’t even sleep with her.”
“Yeah? Well talk to Detective Leahy. He told me I was a sap for believing that one.”
“I told you,” said Marenko. “I went there ’cause she was upset over a threatening call.”
“Then an audit of her phone records should contain evidence of that call.”
Marenko dismissed Georgia with a wave of his hand. “The number that turns up will be worthless. Nobody’s stupid enough to make a call like that from a traceable line.”
Georgia stared at him. His jaw hardened as it sank in. “Oh, I get it,” he said, pushing his plate away. “Finding that call’s got nothing to do with getting a bead on who hurt Connie. It’s about figuring out whether I’m telling the truth about why I went to her apartment.”
“You don’t have an exactly stellar record in the truth department now, do you?”
Marenko fiddled with his coffee cup while Georgia asked for the check. “I’m paying,” she told the waitress with a smile that said He just got out of jail, you know. She enjoyed watching him squirm.