Books of a Feather (9 page)

Crane insisted on following us home, and by the time we arrived, a police car was pulling up to the curb. Derek didn't bother to wait for the garage security gate; he parked on the street. A minute after that, Inspector Lee drove up and parked.

I was hoping and praying it would be a false alarm, but George was too good an agent to let his phone go dead or simply not answer it. Something had to be wrong.

Derek ran across the street to George's car, but returned a minute later. “He's not in his car.”

Two police officers walked up as Inspector Lee joined us. “I'd like to get upstairs as soon as you can get the door opened, Commander.”

Derek keyed in our security code and six of us entered the unattended lobby. Inspector Lee turned to the two uniformed cops and pointed to the wide stairway directly ahead of us. “The stairs are faster if you're inclined to run. I'm taking the elevator. It's slower, but I won't need a lung transplant by the time I reach the sixth floor.”

“Understood, ma'am,” the taller male said. He looked so young and cute, like a dark-haired teen-idol type. “I'll take the stairs.”

“You go for it, Vogel,” Lee said.

“Right behind you,” his partner said. She was a petite redhead with a name tag that read
LOVE
. I assumed that was her last name
and not some sort of philosophical statement. She and Vogel both took off running.

“These kids today,” Lee muttered, and led the way to the freight elevator. “Let's get going.”

When the doors finally opened on the sixth floor, it was clear that we'd made it up there before the two cops.
Good to know,
I thought, as Derek raced off the elevator and down the hall, only to stop abruptly when he saw George Thompson lying crumpled on the floor in front of our
door.

“I don't need to go to the hospital,” George grumbled. He sounded cranky and defensive and I didn't blame him. Especially when it was his boss insisting that he go after being bested by some devious intruder.

“You may have suffered a concussion,” Derek explained.

“I'm fine, boss.”

“Of course you are,” Derek said calmly. “But I won't let you back in the office without having a doctor sign off on your condition.”

“All right,” George mumbled. “But I'm not going in an ambulance. I feel dumb enough already.”

“I can take him, sir,” Officer Vogel said.

“Vogel here was an army medic,” Inspector Lee added.

Derek nodded in approval. “I would be grateful for your help, Officer.”

Inspector Lee glanced at Vogel. “Think he's in any condition to answer a few questions first?”

“Let me see.” Vogel sat down in front of George. “How do you feel?”

“Stupid.”

Vogel smiled. “Any nausea? Headache?”

“A little headache. No big deal.”

“What's your name?”

“George Thompson.”

“And what day is it?”

“Saturday.” He glanced at Derek. “Although I'm not sure how long I was out. It might be Sunday morning by now.”

“Not quite,” Derek said.

Vogel unclipped a small flashlight from his belt. “I'm just going to check your vision. This will be uncomfortable for a minute.”

He flipped the flashlight on and shone it directly into George's eyes. He blinked rapidly in response. “Can you focus directly on the light?”

“I'll try.”

Vogel watched for another moment, then turned the light off. “Okay, all done.” He stood and nodded at Inspector Lee. “Go ahead, ma'am.”

Inspector Lee sat down in front of George, who gazed from the inspector to the cop. “Wait. How'd I do?”

“You did good,” Vogel assured him. “Your pupils were focused on the light and they constricted as they should. If you were seriously injured or in danger of having a stroke, you might have little or no response to the flashlight.”

George heaved out a breath. “Good to know.”

Inspector Lee introduced herself to George. “I'd like to ask you a few questions.”

“Please go right ahead.”

“Thanks. So what made you leave your car? What did you see?”

He glanced back and forth from Derek to the inspector as
he spoke. “A group of partiers came to the door of the building. I tried to count them all and estimated there were ten of them. I couldn't tell if they were all together in one party, because it seemed like there were a couple of stragglers. So I got out and followed them into the lobby.”

“Smart thinking,” Derek said.

He scowled. “Yeah, well, I'm not so sure. Anyway, by the time I got into the lobby, they were all filing into the elevator. I counted heads again and it didn't look like there were ten people in there, so in an abundance of caution, I took the stairs up to your floor.”

“Go on,” Lee prompted.

“I didn't see anyone up there, so I was going to return to my car, but I decided to check your doors first, just to cover the bases.”

“And what happened next?”

“I got bashed in the head,” he said, disgusted. “Never saw it coming.”

“You didn't hear anything?” Lee asked. “Smell anything? Feel anything? Besides the bash, I mean.”

“Not really.”

“You don't sound absolutely positive.”

He grimaced. “I can't explain it, but I guess if I had to try, I'd say I caught a vibe.”

That sounded perfectly reasonable to me. Inspector Lee leaned forward. “Tell me about this vibe.”

“It's like . . . the energy changed.” He shot a quick look at Derek to see if his boss was making a face, but Derek's expression remained composed.

“I felt the floor shift,” George continued. “It's hard to describe, but this is an old building and underneath all that sisal carpeting in the hallway is old hardwood flooring. There should've been a
sound, but there was nothing. The floor didn't creak or squeak or anything. But I'm telling you, I got a feeling of movement under my feet. I started to turn around and . . . bam.”

“I'm so sorry,” I said, lightly squeezing his arm.

“I'm the one who's sorry,” he said, clearly in the throes of self-loathing. He frowned at Derek. “He must've been closer than I thought.”

“Or
she
,” I murmured.

“A woman?” George rolled his eyes and then winced in pain from the slight movement. “That would be just perfect. So, did they get inside?” he wondered. “Was anything stolen?”

“No, and no,” I said.

“At least as far as we know,” Derek added, the voice of caution.

“None of my books are missing.” I met Inspector Lee's gaze and she gave a brief nod of appreciation. The first thing I'd done after we brought George inside the house was check my closet safe. It hadn't been disturbed, thank goodness.

“Electronics and computers are all safe,” Derek said.

“What about artwork?” Crane asked.

Inspector Lee studied Crane for a long moment and frowned. “I'm afraid I didn't get your name.”

“I'm sorry, Inspector. This is Crane,” I hastened to explain. “One of Derek's oldest friends. The three of us were out to dinner when Derek realized George might be in trouble.”

I turned to Crane. “Crane, this is Homicide Inspector Janice Lee. She's the best there is.”

“I don't doubt it at all,” Crane said, his gaze on Lee as he reached out to shake her hand.

Lee's eyes were narrowed and focused on Crane. She didn't look one bit happy to be meeting him. “Hello, Mr. Crane.”

“It's just Crane,” he said, holding back a grin. “And it's a pleasure.”

There was a long pause before anyone spoke again. And that was when it hit me. Inspector Lee and Crane! Oh my goodness, I thought. The energy vibrating off the two of them was electric. Didn't they make an attractive twosome? My mind took off in a whole new direction and I wondered if there was something I could do or say to push the two of them toward each other. Wouldn't that be fun? I realized it would be best if I kept my thoughts to myself, but my head was filled with sparkly romantic possibilities.

As Officers Vogel and Love prepared to leave and take George to Urgent Care, Derek promised to come by his stalwart employee's house the next day to check on him.

“Please, boss, that's not necessary,” George said, his tone bordering on whiny. Again, I couldn't fault him. Who wanted your boss checking up on you? Especially when you'd goofed up the job so badly? Not that I blamed him for being attacked. But that was what George was probably thinking.

“I'll be there,” Derek repeated.

“Resistance is futile,” I said lightly, patting George's shoulder. “In case you've forgotten, Derek takes his role as ‘the boss of you' very seriously.”

“How could I forget?” George wondered, and I hid my smile because he looked so miserable.

After the officers and George left, Crane looked at me. “Your instincts were correct.”

“Unfortunately, yes. I'm not very happy to be right.”

“No, I imagine not. But it was good that we got here when we did.”

“Yes, and thank you for coming along. You didn't have to.”

“I wanted to make sure you were both safe.” He glanced around, looked from me to Derek. “What else can I do?”

“It appears everything's in order,” Derek said. “Once again, the intruder didn't make it into the house.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I'll take off, then.”

“We'd like to return the invitation to dinner,” Derek said. “Maybe sometime this week?”

“I would enjoy that. Let's talk in the morning.”

“And there's a party next weekend,” I reminded him.

He beamed. “For which I'm truly grateful and looking forward to it.” He turned and bowed slightly. “Inspector Lee. An honor to meet you.” Without waiting for a response, he walked out of the house.

She looked flustered and unsure of herself for the first time since I'd met her. Again, I didn't dare say what I was thinking, which was
He likes you, he likes you!

I could be so juvenile sometimes.

“I know it's too late now,” Inspector Lee said, “but first thing tomorrow I'll have Vogel and Love knock on doors to see if anyone got a look at George's attacker.”

“Thank you for being here, Inspector,” Derek said. “I'm sorry this was a somewhat wasted trip.”

“Oh, it wasn't wasted,” she murmured cryptically.

She had to be referring to us introducing her to Crane. I started to smile and instantly she jabbed her finger in my direction. “Wipe that smile off your face.”

“I can't.”

“Don't make me hurt you, Wainwright.” Her composure regained, she nodded toward Derek. “Have a good evening, Commander.” And with that, she took off.

“What was that all about?” Derek asked.

I grinned. “Didn't you see the looks that were passing between Inspector Lee and Crane? I think they might be interested in each other.”

He smiled tolerantly. “Ah. No wonder she told you to mind your own business.”

“She didn't exactly say that,” I demurred.

“But I am saying it, darling.” He slid his arm around my shoulder and we walked to the bedroom. “Crane will only be in town for another week or so and Inspector Lee doesn't seem the type to be interested in a one- or two-night stand.”

“I don't see why not,” I said, grinning. “But you know your friend Crane better than I know Inspector Lee.”

“I'm not saying Crane wouldn't be interested,” he said, chuckling. “I'm just saying it might not be fair to Inspector Lee.”

“All right,” I said with a sigh. “I won't try to be a matchmaker. But I'll make a deal with you. If one of them asks one of us about the other, we can revisit this conversation. And if that doesn't happen, I'll consider the subject dropped.”

At that moment, someone began yelling outside the front door, startling me. Someone else laughed and I relaxed. It sounded like some of our neighbors were having a party in the hall.

Given all the excitement we'd been through tonight, Derek wasn't taking any chances. He walked to the front door and swung it open.

“It's just us,” Mom said jovially as she strolled into the house. Then she noticed our expressions. “What's wrong? Did we wake you? It's still pretty early, isn't it?”

“You didn't wake us,” Derek assured her. “We just got home a little while ago ourselves and were just about to go to bed.”

Dad walked in a few seconds later with his arm tucked around a complete stranger.

I watched Derek's eyes widen and I was pretty sure mine did the same.

The guy hanging on to Dad looked downright homeless, with a full gray beard that was stringy in places and badly matted in others. He wore an old black trench coat over filthy, baggy clothing that had long ago passed its expiration date for washing.

Maybe this was his Grateful Dead costume? But no, I didn't think so.

“This is Goose,” Mom explained. “He's one of our dearest old Deadhead friends and he's fallen on some hard times. He's going to spend the night in our room and we'll take him to a shelter in the morning. I hope you don't mind.”

Goose blinked and stared at us, then lifted his hand and flashed us the peace sign. “Hey, man. Cool digs.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He gazed around the room. “Whoa. You guys must be rich, right?”

Mom's smile was tentative as she looked from me to Derek and back to me. “It'll be okay.”

I suddenly felt like the parent in this picture.

“I'll watch out for Goose,” Dad murmured to Derek.

Derek's smile was tight. “Thanks, Jim.” He glanced down at me and I telepathically reminded him that I'd warned him my parents were crazy. Good-hearted but crazy.

“Sleep well, everybody,” Mom said.

“You, too,” I said, and we watched as she and Dad led Goose toward their rooms down the hall.

Derek and I must have been in a state of shock, because we said very little as we got ready for bed, then went out to the kitchen for two glasses of water.

A minute later, Mom joined us. “I've got Goose all settled. He didn't want to sleep in the second bedroom, so he's sleeping on the floor in our room.”

“Maybe that's more comfortable for him.”

“I hope we didn't upset you,” she said. “We just didn't feel right leaving him there on the cold sidewalk when what he needs is a safe place to sleep and maybe a shower.”

“You're a good person, Mom.” While I, on the other hand, was fighting off this feeling of being appalled. I would never admit that to my kindhearted mother, but I had been completely stunned when they walked into our house with their scruffy friend.

“Oh, honey,” she said, “we've been given so much. Once in a while, we need to give back.”

It was so like my parents to embody that philosophy, and it made me feel downright mean and uncharitable for reacting with shock earlier. “You're right, Mom, and I appreciate you reminding me of that.” I reached into the freezer for a few ice cubes. “I don't remember you ever talking about anyone named Goose.”

“You don't? But he was one of our closest buddies from the good old days.”

“What's his last name?” I asked, thinking maybe I'd remember him that way.

She pursed her lips in thought. “You know, I can't quite recall. The good old days are a little foggy sometimes.”

Derek smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I hope you sleep well, Rebecca.”

“We'll see you in the morning,” I said.