Page 74 of Loverboy
“No,” Teagan says. “Why?”
The second cop pulls out his wallet and shows us his shield. “NYPD special intelligence department. We’re tracking a guy who mighta been seen in here. He’s bad news.”
“What kind of bad news?” Teagan asks.
“Can’t really talk about it.”
“Huh.” I frown appropriately. “Got a picture of him? Between the two of us, we’re behind this counter seven days a week.”
“That’s the problem,” the bald guy says. “We don’t have one. We’re hoping you guys could help us out. If you let us put a camera in here, we could find this guy. The mayor really wants him caught.”
Oh, like it hasn’t been tried,I privately grumble. And the mayor can bite me. “But how would that work?” I ask aloud. “If you don’t know who you’re looking for, what good would it do?”
“We know him,” his buddy says. “But we need apicture. That’s the point of the cameras.”
Sure, asshole. These guys are looking for the same person I am, for the same reason I am. They’re just a little late to the party.
“I gotta run,” Teagan says.
“Go on,” I agree. “I’ll handle this.”
She leaves, and my phone starts dancing a jig in my pocket, probably because Max is watching this little exchange. “Let me get the boss for you, okay? I don’t have the power to decide these things.”
“Okay, man,” one of the cops says.
“Hey, Posy?” I call out. Then I walk to the kitchen and stick my head inside. “Boss? Oh great and powerful one? There’s some guys here to ask you a question!”
Frowning, Posy comes toward me.
Say no, I mouth.
She blinks. Then she passes me and greets the cops. “Can I help you?”
“Ma’am, are you Posy?” one of them asks.
“I am.”
“I thought you’d be older!” he says with a chuckle. “I thought you’d look like my nonna, maybe. She makes pies, too.”
Posy turns to give me a look over her shoulder that says,do you see what I have to put up with?
I wink, and then pull my phone out of my pocket. Max has been ringing me continuously since the cops walked in. I finally answer it with, “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“She isn’t going to allow the cops to set up in her shop, is she?” he barks.
“Probably not.”
“They’ll see all our equipment.”
“Thanks, Sherlock. I realized that.”
“We’ve got to find our Plumber,” Max says. “We’ve got three days, tops. These guys will come back with a warrant.”
“I know, Mama. Drink some prune juice and calm down.”
“Find him. He isn’t a customer. We’re missing something.”
Fuck. Fuckity fuck. He’s right. But I can’t discuss it now. “Talk soon?” I say cheerfully.
