The Harbinger Collection: Hard-boiled Mysteries Not for the Faint of Heart (A McCray Crime Collection)

by Carolyn McCray

  “But we’ve got two serial killers on the loose.”

  “Which you know as well as I do that we can’t do anything about until later. Just look at this as being able to check off something from your list.”

  Kent frowned. “But really the Chez Snotty Café?”

  “Chez Soufflé Café, and yes.”

  Really? He’d have to sit through Ruben and Paggie and eat small servings of crappy food. It really didn’t get much worse than this.

  Kent walked in as the waiter shook his head. “The gentlemen must wear a tie.”

  “I’m sure Ruben has an extra,” Nicole said, waving to the couple seated at a table near the kitchen.

  “And the lady must be in a dress,” the snooty maître d’ said, pointing to a sign that outlined a very long list of dress codes.

  “Excuse me?” Nicole said. Oh, it was okay for her to get all pissy, but he had to suck it up? That seemed decidedly unfair and maybe a little sexist.

  Ruben and Paggie rose, joining them at the maître d’ station. “Is there a problem?” Ruben asked as he approached.

  “Yes, your guests do not meet our dress code. The gentleman has no tie. The ‘lady’ no dress.”

  “I thought I texted you the dress code?” Paggie asked. “I specifically texted you the dress code.”

  Ruben put his arm around Paggie’s shoulders. “It’s okay, honey, we can just go somewhere else. It isn’t the food, right. It’s the company?”

  Paggie didn’t look so sure to Kent.

  “But we were thinking of having this restaurant cater the wedding.”

  Dear god, as if Kent didn’t already need to find an excuse to not attend their wedding, this was the nail in the coffin. He was not going to sit through some sappy nuptial only to endure a fois gras disaster.

  “Paco’s Chicken and Pancakes is right down the street,” Kent suggested. Paggie turned her nose up, literally, at the suggestion.

  “Chicken and Pancakes?” she sneered.

  “They’ve got breakfast all day with the best Eggs Benedict you’ve ever tasted,” Kent tried to reassure her, why he wasn’t sure, but he just wanted the maître de’s beady stare off of him. “And of course if you are in the mood, fried chicken and waffles.”

  “Yes, I am sure they will allow you in that establishment as you are currently dressed,” the maître d’ sneered.

  “Really, Paggie” Nicole chimed it. “I know it sounds weird, but really, it’s good food, especially for brunch.”

  The other couple looked askance, but Nicole didn’t seem to be in any mood to argue and headed straight for the Mustang. Kent wasn’t about to let her leave alone. He trotted to catch up.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Nicole said. “They have the best chicken fried steak in town and I so need to eat my whole way out of this hang over.”

  Kent smiled. That was his girl.

  * * *

  Ruben could feel Paggie tense beside him as her eyes surveyed the rather tacky diner. Everything was plastic. The booths. The silverware. The table clothes. He could feel her start to itch. Paggie was all about class and Paco’s Chicken and Pancakes was the antithesis of class.

  The maître de from the café would have probably just swooned rather than enter the establishment and Ruben wouldn’t have blamed him.

  Especially since a bright red lettered sign read, “No shirt? No shoes? No problem.”

  Kent and Nicole were already seated at a back booth, perusing the large, tri-fold menu which had pictures. Yes, because chicken and pancakes were so difficult to imagine.

  “We don’t have to stay,” Ruben suggested as much for him as for Paggie. His acid reflux was acting up just looking at the greasy spoon food passing by on a waitress’s platter. Apparently no one here had heard of the ill effects of trans fatty acids.

  “And do what? We’ve lost our reservations at the cafe,” Paggie sighed. “And I’m starved. They’ve got to have some kind of fruit platter, don’t you think?”

  Ruben seriously doubted it, but his stomach was rumbling and he knew how much Paggie had been looking forward to picking Nicole’s brain again, and Ruben also felt it wasn’t above rubbing the approaching wedding into his ex-lover and her arrogant profiler.

  They made their way past a table of screaming toddlers and a Goth couple that apparently thought making out in public was cool.

  With his hand on Paggie’s back, Ruben guided them to their table.

  Kent laid his two foot high menu on the table. “I really can’t decide between the ham and cheese waffles and the chicken scone. Decisions. Decisions.”

  Ruben really hoped that Kent was making that up, but as he picked up his menu, he realized those were a few of the more normal selections. Jalapeno and cream cheese blintzes actually looked interesting though.

  Paggie didn’t seem to be having as good a time as she turned the menu back and over again. “Really? No yogurt? Cottage cheese? Peaches?”

  Kent waved off her concerns, “Go to the farmer’s market for that. Get your belly fully of hot goodness here.”

  Paggie scrunched up her nose, looking at the menu again. “I guess the strawberry crepes might not be too bad.”

  “They aren’t,” Nicole jumped in. “They are like eating delicious, delicious air.”

  Ruben leaned back. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be too bad after all. The children had gotten their hot chocolates, piled high with whipped cream and for the moment were quieted.

  “So you haven’t settled on a caterer yet?” Nicole asked. “The wedding is what two, three months away?”

  “Thirteen and a half weeks,” Paggie announced proudly. “We’ve narrowed it down to three companies, but are having a tough time deciding between them. Each has its own advantages.”

  “Like snails?” Kent asked.

  There were times Ruben wanted to punch the profiler. This was one of those times.

  “Yes, actually. We want our guests to feel special,” Paggie answered smoothly. Always the negotiator. She seldom let Kent rattle her.

  “I’m not quite sure if we are using that term in the same way,” Kent stated smiling as the waitress set down an old fashioned stainless steel shake cup. “Double malt?”

  “You know it,” the waitress said, giving a wink. “Everyone ready to order?”

  In rapid fire, they all placed their orders and the waitress was off again.

  “So have you two settled on a date yet?” Paggie asked.

  Ruben stiffened. This had been a touchy subject whenever he brought it up with Nicole which he felt meant that maybe things weren’t quite as glorious in paradise as Kent made them out to be.

  Nicole looked to Kent and got no response so answered, “Apparently not.”

  “We’ll know when it’s right,” Kent grunted. “Not a moment before.”

  “You do know that Martha Stewart says that it isn’t really an engagement until the date is set.”

  “Bully for her,” Kent answered then locked eyes with Paggie. “How can you plan something so intimate? The binding of two souls shouldn’t be scheduled down to the minute. You should eat what is on hand and be with the people who matter most.”

  Ruben knew that went against every fiber of Paggie’s being. Her work and her life went by the clock. It was one of the things that Ruben loved about her. He knew what came next. There were no weird variables. She was reliable and consistent. After the roller coaster with Nicole? Slow and steady was really, really attractive.

  Almost too quickly to be believed the waitress came back and slid his plate down. His Eggs Benedict sloshed half way across the plate, nearly spilling over to the side when at the last moment they slid back.

  “Don’t worry, doll, never spilled a drop yet,” the waitress said with a wink. She was like the Kent of the food service industry.

  Paggie lifted her strawberry crepe with the end of her knife, apparently checking to make sure no bacon had snuck its way under there. Finally she took her fork a
nd cut off a tiny corner of the buttery yellow crepe.

  Time for him to take the plunge as well. He used the edge of his fork to cut off a piece and popped it in his mouth. Oh my.

  The sauce was like cream personified and the eggs? Cooked to perfection with the ham adding just the right amount of salt to the mix to make his taste buds sing.

  He looked up to find Kent staring at him with a Cheshire grin. Damn him. Kent took another huge bite of his breakfast, moaning the whole time. Nicole just rolled her eyes and ate her chicken-fried steak.

  Ruben glanced over to Paggie to find even her smiling as she cut off a larger slice of crepe. Okay, he would never admit out loud, especially in front of Paggie, but this diner was much more his style. Anyone who could cook Eggs Benedict this well could probably cook anything well.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Paggie whispered giving his knee a shove with her knee. “We are not catering from here.”

  Darn. A brunch catered wedding, wouldn’t that be unique. But off of Paggie’s glare, Ruben didn’t even bother to bring it up.

  Paggie turned her focus to Kent. “To be truly memorable a wedding must be planned out thoughtfully, otherwise it will just be all ad hoc.”

  Kent wasn’t deterred though as he plowed into his second piece of Benedict. “Can you really say that in 13 weeks you will still want to get married?”

  Ruben grabbed Paggie’s hand. “Yes, absolutely.”

  His fiancée smiled up at him. “Of course.”

  “Good for you,” Kent said, although Ruben seriously doubted if he meant it. “Nicole and I are waiting for the perfect moment when electricity strikes and we can no longer stand not being married.”

  Ruben studied Nicole’s face very carefully. He knew her. That smile wasn’t real. She didn’t necessarily agree with Kent, but would never contradict him in public. He knew that despite her tomboy ways, Nicole had dreamed of a winter wedding, late in the evening with candlelight to guide her down the aisle.

  It saddened him to think of all that she had given up to be with Kent. Too much. To hide in his shadow like this? When she should be basking in her own glory. It all became too much and he nearly choked on his food.

  “Whoa there, big guy,” Kent stated. “There’s plenty to go around.”

  Ruben took a sip of water as things seemed to be settled. Then Paggie had to go probing again. What had gotten into her?

  “So, Nicole, do you agree with Kent?” Paggie asked, taking another bite. “You are cool with no flowers, no band, and no food?”

  Nicole demurred, stirring her country gravy into the mashed potatoes. “I agree that I don’t want to spend months and months going from one caterer to another. I agree that I don’t want a taffeta designer gown.”

  “But you don’t agree on not having a wedding date?” Paggie probed.

  Ruben’s partner shrugged. “I don’t agree nor disagree. We’re bound together whether we have a date or not.”

  Spoken like a woman who couldn’t get a wedding date out of her fiancée. What else could Nicole say?

  “Maybe our wedding will inspire you,” Paggie said.

  * * *

  Orange juice nearly shot out of Kent’s nose as he tried to suppress laughter. Although he shouldn’t have worried. His beautiful fiancée’s elbow in his side took care of that.

  Sputtering, he made his apologies. He was spared any more awkward looks as Nicole’s phone went off.

  “It’s the hospital,” she reported.

  Well, this morning was looking up as Nicole answered her phone “Detective Usher.” His fiancée then listened carefully then reiterated, “Our victim’s surgery was much simpler than they had thought. She’s in recovery and we might be able to talk to her within the hour.”

  Kent was out of his seat like a mongoose after a cobra.

  Nicole sprung up as well, seeming equally eager to ditch this lovely brunch.

  “Just tell Emma to put the bill on my tab,” Kent said as he headed to the exit. He waved to their waitress. “The usual tip.”

  Emma did a little curtsy as he passed by. Yah, he was a good tipper. It kept the extra Hollandaise sauce coming on his eggs.

  Nicole hustled to catch up. “Okay, I agree. No more double dates.”

  “Finally,” Kent sighed. The first one had been one too many.

  As they climbed into her Mustang Kent asked, “So how do you really feel about setting a wedding date?”

  Nicole revved the engine as her features turned contemplative. “I’m not sure really. On one hand it does feel odd not having a firm date. On the other, whenever I think about having a date that means I actually have to start doing stuff. All the stuff Paggie is doing and I’d rather eat brunch at the café with a fork through my eye.”

  “Couldn’t agree more. So we’ll just roll with it?” Kent confirmed.

  “For now, yah.”

  With Nicole driving, they got to the hospital in minutes. Being a detective she could park right next to the ER doors. They hopped out of the car and headed straight to the nurse’s station.

  CHAPTER 11

  Nicole hurried into the hospital with a bit of trepidation. Well, more trepidation than usual. She hated hospitals, but who didn’t? Did any in the history of mankind say “Wahoo I’m back in the hospital?”

  No, Nicole didn’t think so. Unfortunately her hatred went deeper. First was her recent humiliation. How had she allowed herself, even with full police protection to get slipped a Mickey and then gang attacked?

  No one had chided her. Not Glick, not Ruben, not even Kent for her oversight. They all gave her a pass. Well, Nicole wasn’t about to give herself one. She had been kicking herself all night over it. She probably had more bruises from her self-flagellation than she had gotten during the blitz attack. If Kent hadn’t been there…

  She shuddered to think. Sure, Ruben had punched Kent, but it had been Kent that had gotten to her first. However, as a professional, she shouldn’t have needed protection from such a group of low lives like that. The paperwork in explaining an “officer down” call was going to take hours.

  The second reason went much deeper than just her ego. It had been those last few months with her mother, in and out of the hospital like a revolving door. Riding the high of hope when her mother got to go home, then crashing back down when her white cell count would bottom out.

  In the end, her mother had decided that it was best just to stay hospitalized until the end to spare her family the trauma. Nicole had sworn she’d never step into a hospital again. Of course that was back when she was a teen and thought she was invincible. How little she knew.

  The third reason she hated this trip in particular was that she was reluctant to interview Buzz Kill’s latest victim. She could only imagine how traumatized the girl must be and she knew how Kent could get. Nicole was betting that they were going to get kicked out of the hospital at the least and possibly banned. Better to go in with low expectations.

  Kent however seemed oblivious as they walked through the ER to the elevators. However he only looked oblivious. If she asked, Nicole knew that Kent could probably tell her the name of every nurse they passed and not only the number of patients but their condition as well. That was the miracle of Kent. Seeing without seeming to see. It truly was his gift. It made people underestimate him which was usually a fatal blow.

  It would be interesting to see if the profiler could get any useful information out of this post-surgical patient. If they were going to get anything, it needed to be soon. Leads went cold after forty-eight hours and the girl had been in surgery ten of those hours.

  “We are here to see Lacey Placket,” Nicole said, showing the nurse her gold badge.

  “Sure, you can join the other cop on the fifth floor in the surgery recovery waiting area one. But get ready to wait. Like I told him, it could be a while.”

  “What other cop?” Nicole asked. She looked to Kent who seemed to be wondering the same thing. The only other detective that would ha
ve been assigned to the case was busy finishing up his Eggs Benedict with Paggie.

  “Not sure,” the nurse said. “Tall, handsome. A few tats so I assumed he might be from vice or gangs.”

  * * *

  Breath caught in Kent’s throat. Only one man fit that description.

  “Lucky 37,” Nicole whispered what Kent was thinking.

  Then they both sprang into action, running for the stairs. They didn’t have time to wait for the elevator. It was a race to the fifth floor. Nicole’s heels clanged on the metal stairs, but damn she could fly in those things.

  Kent grabbed hold of the railing and hauled himself up the last few steps to beat her to the landing. Smiling, he yanked open the door and they rushed onto the surgery floor.

  To the right was the recovery waiting area. Of course no one was there except Adelene, Lacey’s mother. Nicole yanked open the glass door anyway.

  “Are you okay?” Nicole said with a puff. Last night had really taken it out of her. Usually she could run five miles without breaking a sweat.

  The woman, still looking haggard and unkempt seemed shocked at Nicole’s entrance. “Besides praying for my daughter to pull through, yes, I’m okay.”

  Although she didn’t seem okay. Her daughter was out of surgery and in recovery so why did she seem even paler than she had the night before? Something happened.

  “Was there a man here?” Nicole asked.

  Kent already knew the answer to that. He could smell Brut all over the room.

  Adelene pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “Yes, he said that Lacey was a very lucky girl.”

  Kent swung around “Where did he go?”

  The woman frowned. “I’m not sure. I think maybe the stairs.”

  “How long ago?” Nicole asked.

  “I don’t know, a few minutes ago,” Adelene responded. “What’s going on?”

  What was going on? Oh, just the fact that they had missed Lucky 37 by a hundred plus seconds or so. Nothing really. Kent hit his fist into the doorjamb, damaging his knuckles much more than the metal.

  He could try to give chase, but what use would it be? Lucky 37 had the jump on them and Kent knew that the sophisticated killer would never enter the hospital without an impeccable exit strategy.