blame him? It’s not every day you get to meet a tall, almost attractive, out-on-bail, single college professor who loves all things hockey. And if you loved being smack-dab in the middle of murder investigations, I was your girl. “Listen, if things don’t work out, please give me a call.”
I laughed. “By that time, you’ll be married to a super-model and raising your kids, Jack. Hopefully, they’ll get her looks and your brains. But thanks,” I said, leaving out the sarcasm. “I appreciate the call.” I hung the phone up and took another sip of my martini.
Trixie, who had been lounging on her bed in the kitchen, sidled into the living room. After gazing at me longingly for a few seconds, her ears perked up and she started to growl way down in her throat. I wasn’t surprised when there was a knock at the front door a few seconds later. Trixie was cool with people knocking on the back door, but for some reason, not the front. It was just one of those weird dog things that I had given up trying to understand. She shadowed me as I approached the front door. I pulled the curtain of the sidelight to peer out and was surprised to see Crawford standing there.
I opened the door, happy to see him. “Hi,” I said, stepping into the hallway to let him pass.
“I hope this is okay,” he said. “You know, just stopping by.”
“Boy, do I have a lot to tell you.” I launched into my story about Peter Miceli—minus the making-out part—coming to the diner and finished up with how Brendan, aka Bagpipe Kid, found Terri in the grave.
“Missing hands and feet, right?”
I nodded.
He put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Dobbs Ferry called it in to us. What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know, Crawford, but don’t you think Peter Miceli had something to do with this?”
“I would if I actually thought he had a motive for killing her.”
Killjoy. “Well, maybe he does and we just don’t know what it is.”
“Doesn’t it seem like it’s Jackson?”
“Unless we find him somewhere else,” I reminded him. “What if he’s in a shallow grave in another part of town?”
He thought about that for a couple of seconds. “I can ask some questions about this because it’s obviously related to Ray’s case, but I can’t push too much, Alison. This is a total local jurisdiction case.”
“I know,” I said. I thought about asking him more about Ray’s case and the Julie Anne Podowsky angle, but thought better of it after I took a second to take in his appearance. Although his clothes were in their usual state of neat-and-pressed, he had dark circles under his eyes and his five o’clock shadow had entered its eleventh hour. “Are you all right?” I put my hand to his face.
“I’m exhausted,” he said.
I took his hand and brought him into the living room. “Come with me. What can I get you?”
“How about that license plate number?” he asked. When he saw my crestfallen face—I was expecting a beverage request, not police procedure—he added, “And a beer?” He fell onto the couch, clearly out of gas. “You gave the license plate number to Dobbs Ferry PD, too, right? I’m going to run it, too, but they should have this information.”
I nodded. “Yep.” I went into the kitchen, and when I returned, I had a piece of paper with the license plate number and a cold beer. I handed both to him and sat on a chair across from the couch. “Is this a business call?”
He took a long swallow of beer. “Sort of.” He reached over and helped himself to a hefty chipful of guacamole. “This is good,” he said, a little awe in his voice.
“I can cook, you know,” I protested. While that wasn’t exactly true, it sounded good. I didn’t think mashing an avocado in a bowl constituted cooking, but if he was impressed, who was I to argue? I moved from the chair to his lap and put my arms around his neck. “Are we still talking?”
He looked at me, surprised. “Yes. Why?”
I shrugged. “You didn’t sound too happy to hear from me.”
He smiled. “Well, let me recap the last several days.” He began to mimic my voice. “Crawford, it’s raining. Crawford, there’s someone in the garage. Crawford, I’m following a car with an unknown driver at breakneck speed. Crawford, I’m in jail…” He took a sip of beer. “And now you tell me