smell from it not entirely appetizing, when I spied Crawford ambling down the hall toward me, coming from the direction of the convent. Weird, I thought; maybe he’s hooked up with a nun? Based on our lack of physical contact, I guessed anything was an improvement. He looked a little shocked when he saw me and more than a little surprised; there was a slight hitch in his step like he was reconsidering his straight path toward me. Kevin was close on his heels, not exactly with Crawford, but not exactly not with him, either.
I stopped, my hand on the handle of the cafeteria door. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Detective Crawford and his ward, Father McManus. You gentlemen out fighting crime together? Where’s the Batmobile?” When they didn’t laugh, I explained why I was there. However, it didn’t explain why Crawford was there. “I was just going in for breakfast. Care to join me?”
Kevin made a great show of looking at his watch. “I have an appointment,” he said and scurried off down the hall, his black jacket billowing out behind him, the sound of his loafers click-clacking on the tile floor like he was warming up for Riverdance.
I looked at Crawford. “I guess that leaves you. Coffee?” I asked, and held the door open for him. He appeared to be considering his options, finally deciding to follow me in. I approached the counter and put him in charge of getting coffee. “Can you handle that?” I asked.
“I think so,” he said, and wandered off to the coffee bar. I watched him stand before the large coffee dispenser, trying to figure out what I would like and what I would take in my coffee.
“Large! Milk!” I called after him and turned my attention to Marcus, my favorite cafeteria cook, who was making omelets behind the counter. “Hi, Marcus,” I said. “Could I have two scrambled egg and bacon sandwiches on rolls, please?” I asked. I looked around. The cafeteria was sparsely populated since the second class of the day was in session, and only a few students, all plugged in to something or other—headphones, MP3 players, or cell phones—hung around the outskirts of the room. Marcus whipped up my sandwiches which I paid for and brought over to a table by the window.
Crawford joined me with two large cups of coffee and sat down across from me. I handed him a plate with a sandwich on it.
“So, what’s going on, Crawford? Anything to report on Ray’s murder?” I asked, digging into my sandwich with gusto. I had thrown up on this guy’s shoes; I didn’t need to pretend I was a dainty, delicate flower when it came to eating.
He shook his head. “Not a thing. We’re working a couple of angles…”—he paused when he saw my eyebrows shoot upwards—“the details of which I will not share with you.”
Party pooper.
“Did you talk to my neighbors? Jackson and Terri?” I asked.
He knitted his brows together. “Yes. Why?”
“Right after Ray was murdered, Terri came over and basically accused Jackson of the murder.” I went on to recount my visit with Max to Boscobel, but left out the part where Max rummaged through their underwear drawers. “Does he seem like a suspect to you?”
Crawford thought for a moment. “I’ll go back through my notes, but my initial reaction was that he seemed pretty innocuous.” He took a bite of sandwich and gazed out at the river, glistening like a jewel beyond the great lawn of the building in which we sat. “Why would his wife accuse him and then carry on with him like that, though? I think I’ll talk to her again, too.”
“Good idea,” I said. “And I guess you’re looking at the Miceli family, too?”
He remained quiet on that subject. I took that as an affirmative.
I decided to change the subject; as much of an amateur sleuth as I’d become, talking about Ray’s murder took its toll on me emotionally. “What are you doing here, Crawford?” I asked. I tried for that nonchalant insouciance that I always attempt, but am never successful at pulling off. Because, good Lord, he was handsome and I was a sucker for tall guys with chiseled good looks; call me crazy.
“I came to see you,” he said, unconvincingly.
“Liar.” I’m not all that observant, but I had this sneaking suspicion that he had been with Kevin prior to seeing me. That could mean one of two things: he was getting spiritual direction or help with his