you’ve found another body? I can’t take much more of this,” he said, only half kidding.
“I didn’t actually find the body,” I reminded him. “I was just next to it for a little while.”
“Details.”
I laughed. “Okay, okay.” I kissed him. “Uncle.” I pulled at his shirt and put my hand on his stomach. It had been so long since I had seen him that despite today’s unpleasantness, I wanted to jump his bones. Bad.
He closed his eyes. “As much as it pains me to say this, I have to go home. Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to call Dobbs Ferry PD and have them send a car around?”
“I think they’re already doing that.” I wiggled off his lap and onto the couch next to him. “Do you really have to go?”
He took my hand. “I do. It’s been a long day.”
I suspected that there was something going on, but I decided not to press. “Do you want something to eat before you go?”
He shook his head. “No, I ate.” He paused.
“What’s the matter, Crawford?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly. He stood. “I have to go.”
I stood and walked him to the front door. “Let me know what you find out about that plate number.”
He looked down at me and kissed the top of my head. “I will.”
Uh-oh. The head kiss. I got that sinking feeling in my stomach and swallowed hard. The head kiss usually preceded the kiss-off. I had gotten a lot of head kisses from Ray and we were almost the same height.
Crawford left and, instead of watching him walk to his car like I usually would, I closed the door. I looked at Trixie. “This is not the sort of weekend I want to repeat,” I said, looking into her limpid brown eyes. She walked over and gave my hand a lick and whined slightly. “I made out with Peter Miceli and got a head kiss from Crawford. What’s wrong with this picture?”
She cocked her head again.
I let out a little laugh, almost to prevent myself from bursting into tears. If I kept soliciting advice from a neutered dog and a priest, my love life would be dead in no time flat.
When he got to the stop sign at the end of Alison’s street, Crawford banged his head against the steering wheel in frustration. He resisted the urge to turn his car around and drive back to her house; the look on her face when he left was evidence enough that he had behaved like a moron. Once again.
“‘How about that license plate number?’” he repeated to himself. “Smooth.”
He drove home in a fog, not even excited when he found a parking spot right in front of his building, normally a cause for great rejoicing. His phone trilled on the seat beside him and he picked it up before getting out of the car.
“Crawford.”
“Hey, it’s Kenny James.”
Crawford sat up in his seat. “Kenny, hey. Thanks for calling me back.”
“So, you got another Miceli murder?”
“Or maybe two,” Crawford said, watching the inside of his windshield fog up. “I just want to check something…that hands and feet thing is always Miceli, right?”
“Here’s the thing about the Micelis: they are consistent. Missing hands and feet are a signature Miceli move, and they don’t change method. Ever. Miceli family members and soldiers do everything the same way they’ve been doing it for fifty years. Some old Miceli hacked off some guy’s hands and feet in Brooklyn during World War Two, and that’s how they do it now. I can’t explain it, but I’ve seen two dozen Miceli…” He paused and laughed. “Alleged Miceli murders and they are all the same. They must have a school where they teach these guys messy murder techniques.”
Crawford sat in silence.
“You there?” James asked after a few seconds.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Crawford opened his car door. “We’ve got a couple of other suspects. One’s a girl from St. Thomas who had a relationship with the vic.”
“She come in on her own or did you pick her up?”
“On her own, which is always suspicious. Funny thing is, she’s a fencer.”
“She deals in stolen goods?”
“No, a fencer. You know, the sport?” Crawford clarified.
James started laughing. “I’ve been on the job way too long.” He paused. “Well, you know, she probably knows how to wield swords pretty well.”
“Yeah, that’s what one of the other detectives is thinking. I’m still not sure.”
“Well, good luck, Bobby. Let me know if I can help.”
“Thanks, Kenny.