mental math. I was pretty sure my initial equation was wrong, so what the hell? I just had to return more often.
"That's a look of pure concentration on your face. What are you thinking about?" asked Solomon.
"Food."
"You are such a Graves," he said.
"Speaking of family, we haven't discussed Mom and Dad's pasta party. What should we bring?"
"Pasta?"
I rolled my eyes. "That's a given. Do we make a special sauce? Or bring a side dish? I could make pasta from scratch?"
A smile played on Solomon's lips. "Can you do that?" he asked.
"No."
"Do you have time?"
"No."
"Then, how were you planning to make it?"
"There's a new Italian deli two blocks from the house that makes it. The owner's father is from Sicily and he only shouts in Italian but he understands some English. If I walk there, I’ll cover the effort part. Just don't tell anyone."
"I've got your back," said Solomon, smiling now. "I'll make that spicy sausage sauce you like."
I beamed at him. "We've nailed married life."
"Absolutely." We paused as our food was delivered and for a few minutes allowed the busy sounds of the late lunch crowd to wash over us. "Where are you with the bank case?" I asked.
"It completely perplexes me."
"Sounds about right."
"I can't imagine how Charlie Sampson expects us to solve it. I feel like he wants us to wear blindfolds and handcuffs before trying to make our way through a maze."
Until Solomon mentioned a maze, that sounded exciting. "So you're turning him down after all?" I wondered.
"I agreed to take it. It might be the most challenging thing we've done to date."
"Remember that time we took down a serial killer?" I reminded him.
"Don't remind me."
"Or when we solved the murder of a pop princess?"
"I try to never think about that." Solomon took a bite of his burger before putting it down and wiping his mouth with the napkin. There was really no need. I would have happily licked his face. "It's almost impossible to solve and maybe that’s why the case creates so much intrigue. That, and the FBI’s appearance tell me it's something much bigger than Charlie is letting on. I have to admit, my curiosity is getting the better of me." His eyes narrowed.
"And?" I prompted, wondering what he wasn't admitting, although I could guess.
"And those thieves could have hurt you," he said, looking out the window but not before I saw the flash of pain on his face. "What if you were the one that got shot?"
"I didn't." When Solomon didn't reply, I reached for his hand, squeezing it. "Hey," I said softly. "I didn't get hurt. I'm fine and now I can provide more critical assistance as a primary witness."
"Which is why I assigned you to the case," said Solomon. "Also, stop stealing my fries with your other hand."
"When you find the perpetrators, what will you do?" I asked, withdrawing four fries and hastily eating them.
Solomon shrugged. "Hand them over."
"The fries? Too late."
"The thieves," he clarified.
"Straight away?"
Solomon returned his gaze to me. "Eventually," he said, his voice thick with anger.
"No vigilante justice," I said. "I wasn't hurt, remember? Whomever these guys are, they will not have just a book, but a whole library thrown at them for shooting a cop. They'll never see the light of day again from their prison cells."
"That worries me."
"Why? It's a good thing."
"No, not justice. The robbers will almost certainly go to any lengths now to keep from getting caught. We don't have long to find this crew. We're already a day behind so we can’t afford to lose anymore time. There will be long hours. We'll be starting early, and working late."
"What about my case?" I asked. Solomon frowned. "Austen Takahashi," I prompted. "I told you on the phone."
"Can you push it back at all? Next week perhaps?"
"No, I thought about that on the way over but the time factor is also critical for that. What he asked me to look into might turn out to be the attempted murder of his wife." I reached for Solomon's fries again and when he didn't stop me, I dived in for a second handful. Salty, crispy, and utterly delicious. For a brief moment, the taste transported me back to the days when Lily and I used to eat at O'Grady's before she opened her own bar.
"What's your take on the Takahashis?"
"It wasn't him, if that's what you're asking."
"I was. Most femicides are committed by a male that is already known to the victim, especially in domestic cases."