The Craving (25 page)

Geri stopped and looked over at the young Latino. He looked
familiar, probably because he looked so much like Carlita. It was startling, actually. They had the same big brown eyes, same narrow nose with the little bump in the middle.

“I’m really truly sorry,” Geri said.

“Sorry ain’t gonna bring my sister back!” he shouted.

An officer came over, in case he had to restrain the guy, but Geri nodded to the officer as if saying,
It’s okay, don’t worry
.

Geri said to the young guy, “We’re gonna find out who did this, I promise you.”

And the guy said, “I want my sister back, that’s all I want, can you promise me that? Can you?”

Geri held his gaze for a few seconds, then entered the apartment building. On the stairwell she had to take a moment to control herself, and then she went up the stairs to Carlita’s apartment. Shawn was in front and said, “You ready for round two of bad news?”

“What is it?”

“While you were down there, Dan called; he’s taking us off the case.”

“What?” Geri wasn’t expecting this at all. “That’s ridiculous, after I go out there and suck it up for the department?”

“That’s just the way the timing worked out.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He said the order came from the police commissioner himself.”

“So I have to be part of the team,” Geri said, “till a head has to roll, and then I’m on my own.”

“Your head’s not the only one rolling; my head’s rolling too.”

“You didn’t go out there to take blame for something you had no part of only to get kicked in the ass again two minutes later.”

“You gotta just chill right now. He said it could’ve been worse, we could’ve got suspended. Since you’re not full grade, he could’ve
made you a patrol cop again. I mean, that wasn’t gonna happen, but I’m just sayin’.”

“Saying what?” Geri said. “Now we’ve got a killer out there and they take the cops who had the best chance to catch him off the case?”

“Sometimes you gotta just roll with the punches,” Shawn said. “That’s what I’m sayin’.”

“This isn’t why I became a cop,” Geri said, practically yelling.

Forensics workers and cops looked over, including Santoro. By Santoro’s expression it was obvious he knew what had gone down.

“Well, good luck,” Geri said. “You’re gonna need it.”

Geri and Shawn left the building, ignoring the reporters’ questions. As she got into the Charger, Geri looked at Carlita’s grieving brother, realizing she’d made yet another promise she wasn’t going to keep.

G
eri wasn’t in the mood for another confrontation with Dan, and besides, today was supposed to be her day off anyway, so after she dropped Shawn and the Charger back at the precinct, she headed back home on the subway, figuring she’d get some shut-eye and try to sleep this day off.

Back in her apartment, Willy and Wonka, maybe sensing that she was in a bad way, didn’t come to greet her at the door and rub their heads against her legs and purr the way they usually did. They didn’t even bother to get up from the couch.

Geri lay in bed, knowing there was no chance of getting to sleep. Her mind was way too active, replaying events of the day. She had anger and resentment, yeah, but the worst was how powerless she felt. A family had lost a daughter, a sister, and Geri couldn’t do anything to make things right.

Then her thoughts drifted to the Diane Coles case—a family in Michigan had suffered a loss and wanted closure too. She reached for her cell and called Michael Hartman’s friend Ramon. She got his voice mail—no message, just Julio Iglesias crooning, “Besame Mucho.” Shaking her head, Geri ended the call. She didn’t like to leave messages, especially when she was working on a case, because she wanted to be in a position of control. She didn’t want to be the one waiting around for the phone to ring. She’d rather keep calling back, and her number was private so no one could see it on Caller ID.

So she waited a few minutes and called again. He didn’t answer, so she hung up and then called a third time. It took about ten calls before a man picked up and said, “You my secret admirer?”

Geri was thrown off—she wasn’t sure why—and said, “Um, is this Ramon?”

“Depends who’s calling,” the man said, trying to be suave.

“I’m Detective Geri Rodriguez with Manhattan North Homicide.”

“That case, I guess you
are
my secret admirer. I mean, I had eleven missed calls; you must want to talk to me pretty badly.”

Was this guy for real?

“I wanted to talk to you about a case I’m working on,” Geri said.

“I heard it’s not your case,” Ramon said.

Geri wasn’t in the mood, especially today, for his smart-ass attitude. But she wanted to stay in control, not play his games, so she kept it professional, saying, “Then I guess you spoke with your friend, Michael.”

“He said you might call me, yeah.”

“Well, actually the case is related to a case I’ve been working on, so it
is
my case.”

“Whatever you say,” Ramon said. “Whatever you say. I won’t argue with a pretty cop.”

Had Michael told him she was pretty? Or was Ramon the type of smooth talker who told every girl he met she was pretty? Either way, Geri had had enough of this nonsense.

“I’d rather talk to you in person,” Geri said.

“Sounds good to me,” Ramon said. “I like to keep things more physical myself.”

Rolling her eyes, Geri asked, “Are you home now?”

“Actually I’m at rehearsal for a play, but I’m gonna be off in about a half hour.”

“Where’s your rehearsal space?”

“Theater district,” Ramon said. “It ain’t Broadway yet. But gimme a couple months; I’ll get there, baby, I’ll get there.”

So he thought he was God’s gift to women
and
a great actor. As long as this guy wasn’t cocky.

“I’m actually in the area,” she said. “So I can come by.”

He gave her the address, at a theater space on Forty-sixth near Ninth, which was only a few blocks from her apartment. She wasn’t looking forward to questioning some smart-ass, but it felt good to be back working on a case, and more important, she hoped she could help get some closure for Diane Coles’s family.

When Geri arrived at the old, tenement-style building, she went up a few flights of stairs, then didn’t have to figure out where to go because she could hear the actors performing. It was a small theater—maybe fifty seats. There were only a few people in the audience in the front row, and Geri counted twelve people on stage, including Ramon. Although she’d never seen him she recognized him right away, before he said a word. He looked like he’d sounded on the phone—cocky, suave, smoldering—the kind of arrogant good-looking guy who knew he was good-looking and wanted to flaunt it. But Geri was surprised because, while Ramon looked and acted like the slick, phony
kind of guy who normally repulsed her, instead of resenting him she had a sudden, strong attraction that she couldn’t explain or deny.

Geri couldn’t follow what was going on in the play—something about poisoned water, or a conspiracy or something, but even though the language was old-fashioned the actors were talking like they were from Long Island. But the main reason she couldn’t follow the plot was that Ramon was way too distracting. The guy had an aura about him. He was cocky, yeah, and he was strutting like he thought he was a combination of Antonio Banderas and Javier Bardem, but he was somehow able to pull it off and actually come across as the sexy, irresistible Latin lover he was trying so desperately to be. Geri didn’t know if it was star quality, charisma, or the X factor, but whatever it was, this guy had it.

It was as if the other actors had disappeared and Ramon were acting in a one-man show. Staring at him, Geri crossed and uncrossed her legs a few times, then discovered she was actually getting aroused. When had just watching a guy, a stranger, ever had this kind of effect on her? She was getting so turned on, she was afraid it was getting obvious, and she was about to go out and wait in the lobby when Ramon—maybe he sensed Geri was about to get up?—asked the director, the heavyset woman in the front row, if they could take a break.

“Okay, let’s break for fifteen and then I have notes,” the director said.

Ramon strutted—yes,
strutted
—over to Geri and, with a wide grin and dark smoldering eyes, said, “See, I was right, you are beautiful.”

Geri felt wetness on the insides of her thighs, and she felt something else she hadn’t felt in ages around a guy. She actually felt nervous.

“You must be Ramon,” Geri said, feeling like she was fumbling her words. What was going on?

“The one and only,” he said. “You like the play?”

“Just saw a bit; it was hard to get into.”

“Ibsen,
Enemy of the People
,” Ramon said. “We’re setting it modern day, New York City, but the themes resonate.” Ramon hadn’t stopped looking at her eyes. Was he sniffing her? He said, “You smell wonderful. I love your perfume.”

“I’m not wearing perfume,” she said.

He leaned in a little closer, maybe to get a better whiff, and said, “Even better.”

Geri’s face was hot and she had to uncross and then cross her legs again. What was she doing, flirting with a potential suspect in a murder case? Like when she was questioning Michael, she felt as if she didn’t have the upper hand, as if they were tangoing and he was leading, and Geri usually never felt this way at work. What had happened to the tough chick detective who was the bad cop in “good cop, bad cop”? Maybe they were right for taking her off the Washington Heights murder cases. Maybe she was losing her edge.

“Is there, um, someplace we can go to talk?” she asked, afraid that it had come out all wrong. She wanted to go someplace else, figuring a change of location would help her get her act together, but the way she said it, it sounded flirty, as if she wanted to go someplace where they could be alone.

“There’s a coffee place across the street,” Ramon said. “They got couches, dim light. We can sit in the corner where it’s nice and quiet and—”

She sensed he was about to touch her hand. She stood up quickly and said, “Okay, let’s go.”

On the stairway down, he said, “After you,” and she knew he was
checking out her ass. But unlike when Detective Mangel and other creeps checked her out, she couldn’t help liking it this time. Instead of grossing her out, it made her feel sexy.

Outside, she asked him how long he’d been an actor. Again, it came out flirty, like they were on a freaking date, but she was glad because it gave him a chance to do all the talking and she could try to get control of herself.

At the quaint little coffee shop that Geri had passed many times but never gone into, Ramon said, “Let’s go to the back where we can be alone,” and even though she was tempted, she said, “No, the counter near the door’s fine.”

“What’re you having?” he asked.

“It’s okay, I can pay for my own,” she said, and went to the counter with him.

Waiting for the coffee, he asked her where her family was from, and she said her mom was from San Juan.

“Mi familia es de San Juan tambien,”
Ramon said.

When they got their coffees and sat at the counter, Ramon started talking fast and excitedly in Spanish about Puerto Rico, and how he’d spent every summer in San Juan when he was growing up. Like before, Geri didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. She also didn’t like talking in Spanish, as she felt it was too intimate.

In English she said, “Did Michael tell you about Diane Coles?”

“Oooh, getting all coplike,” Ramon said. “I like that.”

“Did he?” she asked, aware that his leg was practically touching hers and that she wasn’t trying to shift hers away.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” Ramon smiled. “For now.” Then his expression suddenly shifted and he got very serious and said, “Yeah, he told me. I was devastated. Diane was a wonderful woman, had everything going for her. I couldn’t believe
it. I mean, for her to go like that, it just ain’t right.”

Ramon seemed sincere, even a little teary eyed. But he was an actor, after all.

“And you can vouch that Michael was in New York last Wednesday?”

“Yeah, we were with our kids at the playground all morning, then we took ’em to Shake Shack for lunch.”

“And you’re not just saying this to protect him, right? If I look at that Shake Shack video I’ll see Michael there, right?”

Leaning closer, looking right into her eyes, he said, “One thing I won’t ever do is lie to you.”

Geri couldn’t help feeling weak inside. What was it about this guy?

“So you were in town all last week?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Come on, I know you don’t really think I had anything to do with this. You’re just asking because you gotta be all cop with me ’cause it’s your job, right?”