Ellen pointed at my leg, which had gotten a basic bandage from Grosse Pointe’s finest emergency medical response team. It was a giant Band-Aid.
“So were you shot?” she said.
I shook my head. “It was a sliver from the floor.”
“A sliver,” she said.
I could tell she was on the verge of either laughing at me or slapping me silly.
“Yeah, it was a sliver,” I said. “A big one.”
“Only you could be in the middle of a shooting and come out of it with a sliver.”
“A big sliver.”
“Whatever,” she said.
Grasso had already been bagged and tagged. The crime scene technicians were done and gone. Ellen turned to me. “So why don’t you tell me how you ended up presenting your ass to Grasso.”
“It was some fine detective work, if I say so myself,” I said.
“Luring an ex-con with your sweet butt? Isn’t that entrapment?”
“Very funny,” I said.
“You know, sodomy is illegal in Michigan. I should take you in.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Not what I hear,” she said. “I heard you were caught in flagrante delicto. At least, that’s what the boys down at the station are probably saying.”
“Would you please shut up?”
“Mom would roll in her grave if she knew you were sleeping with an ex-con,” she continued.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what happened,” she said.
I filled her in on my questioning the dancer at the Lucky Strike. How one thing had led to another and I’d found myself on Barrington.
I also told her about the woman in the kitchen.
“Never got a look at her?” Ellen asked me.
“Nope.”
“Would you recognize her voice?”
“Maybe.”
Ellen thought about that for a moment. “The house is clean. Nothing to tie Grasso to anything, from what we could find so far.”
“So what were they doing here?”
She shrugged.
“Well at least we know now that Grasso wasn’t working alone and that Jesse Barre’s murder wasn’t just an ordinary robbery gone wrong.”
“Don’t jump to any conclusions.”
“Oh, come on Ellen. You’re not going to pin this all on Grasso, are you?”
“Why don’t you let us do our jobs before you start telling me what I’m doing wrong?”
“Okay,” I said. “Fair enough.”
Ellen looked me over. “Does your wife know what happened?”
“Not yet.”
“Why don’t you go home and tell her all about it. Stay out of the investigation for a little while.”
It was at times like this that I could really tell she was pissed. Apparently I’d overstepped my bounds again. Well, goddamnit, I can’t help it if every cave I stick my nose in has a bear inside.
I left the scene of the crime, as it was. And went home to tell my wife that I’d been shot at again.
I hoped it wouldn’t ruin dinner.
Thirty-five
Ellen called me at my office the next morning.
“I want you to come and look at something,” she said.
“What, is your toilet running again?”
“Like you’d have a fucking clue how to fix it,” she said. “I want to get your take on some stuff we found out about Grasso. I have no idea why, but I do.”
“I thought you said you wanted me to stay out of the investigation,” I said. “I got the definite feeling you’d tired of your favorite sibling.”
“You’re my only sibling.”
“The two have nothing to do with each other.”
I listened to Ellen sigh on the other end of the line. It was always fun to know I’d irritated her slightly. Besides, I couldn’t just let her get away with telling me one day to fuck off and then the next day welcoming me back. I was getting whiplash from the sudden changes of direction.
“As much as I would like to keep our work separate, the fact is, Grosse Pointe’s a small town,” she said.
“Especially for an ego like yours,” I said.
“Shut up John.”
I complied.
“What I mean is, a small town means that we’re bound to cross paths once in awhile,” she said. “Considering that we work in similar fields.”
“Lucky you.”
“Besides, you’ve done some good work on this case, chasing down Grasso and making some connections.”
“Was that a compliment? You gotta be kiddin’ me,” I said. “Who is this? Am I on Candid Camera? Where’s Alan Funt?”
“God, do you ever shut your piehole, John?”
“Occasionally,” I said. “Usually during the holidays.”
“Call it professional courtesy, but I thought you might like the opportunity to see what we’ve found,” she said. “Say no and I’ll never be nice to you again.”
“When did you start?”
“This is the sound of the phone being placed near the cradle,” she said. I actually heard her voice getting softer.
“Wait!” I called.
Now her voice was