The P.I. Contest

by C. J. Carmichael

  Immediately Kate decided that she needed to be face-to-face with this man before spilling the beans. If he decided to lie, it would be too easy over the phone. “I’d prefer to explain in person, at your convenience, of course. When you hear what it’s about, I’m sure you’ll understand.”

  “Is that necessary? I’m a very busy man.”

  And, by implication, a very important man. But Kate was counting on his curiosity being piqued. “It’s a delicate matter, not something to discuss over the phone.”

  He sighed. “Fine. Meet me tomorrow morning at my gym.” He named the place and the time, and Kate assured him she would be there.

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Crane.”

  Kate disconnected the call, intrigued that he hadn’t wanted her to come to his office. She wondered if that meant he had more than one secret weighing on his conscience.

  JAY KNEW HE COULDN’T SIT back and wait for the DNA results on James Morgan. He had to get busy and find the other two possible dads on Rebecca Trotter’s list. Kate hadn’t lost as much as an hour at work due to her cold, and he’d have to keep focused if he wanted to stay in the running.

  It was hard not to worry about Eric, though. This morning he’d refused the toaster waffles Jay had set out for his breakfast. At least he’d downed a glass of orange juice before heading out the door with his usual grunt that seemed to pass for communication.

  Had Eric been like this with his mother?

  Jay wished he and Tracy had spent more time together the last few years. He should have bit his tongue where Tracy’s boyfriend was concerned. Then maybe she’d have come to him when the louse left her, instead of turning to that bottle of pills.

  He shouldn’t have let that happen. But it had, and now Eric seemed like a stranger to him. He felt, instinctively, that he was doing the right thing in setting out rules and limits, but maybe he was pushing too hard.

  All he’d managed to accomplish so far was to make his nephew resent him.

  He needed to make a peace offering of some sort. Maybe a new cell phone—which Tracy had never been able to afford—was the answer. Most of the kids Eric’s age seemed to own one, and that way he would be able to reach Eric at any time, which seemed pretty sensible.

  Jay went out during his lunch hour to do some shopping. When he returned to the office around two, Kate was back at her desk. She was typing away on her keyboard at a rate that made him slightly anxious.

  So far he’d accomplished exactly zero today as far as the case was concerned.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Sure. Fine.” He opened the file on his desk purposefully, as if he, too, had important information to follow up on.

  He stared at the blank page with Gary Gifford’s name on the top. This guy had taken physical education at school. He’d also played on the football team for four years. Was it too much of a leap to assume he might have become a high school football coach after graduation?

  Jay was initiating a simple Internet search when his cell phone rang. Kate’s fingers paused over her keyboard as he said, “Savage here.”

  “I’m glad I reached you, Mr. Savage,” a woman said, speaking in a serious tone. “I’m Police Officer Molly Bradford and I’m calling about your nephew, Eric. Were you aware that he didn’t attend school today?”

  Oh, hell. Jay felt as if someone had just given his head a spin. He struggled to focus. “Is he okay?”

  “Eric is fine, but he was found hanging out around the Cathedral Parkway subway entrance during school hours.”

  “I guess he skipped classes.” Again. “Is that a crime?”

  “Have you heard about a program called TRACK?”

  “No. What is it?”

  “It’s a partnership between the NYPD, the Department of Education and Administration for Children’s Services. The idea is to keep school-age children in their classrooms where they belong. Basically, if a police officer finds school-age children loitering during class hours, they’re brought in to a central location to be picked up by their parents or legal guardians.”

  She gave him a second to digest that, then asked, “Would you be able to pick up your nephew?”

  “You bet I would.” He wrote down the address she gave him, then promised he would be there as soon as possible.

  Kate looked worried as he started to pack his papers into his briefcase. “Sorry. It was impossible for me not to hear that. Is Eric in trouble?”

  “He skipped school.” So much for his efforts last night. Dinner together, the chat about responsibilities. Obviously nothing had sunk in. “Have you heard of a program called TRACK?”

  “Oh, yes. Is that where he is?”

  “Yeah. An Officer Molly Bradford just called to say they had Eric.”

  “I’ve worked with Molly. She’s a wonderful person. She really cares. And the TRACK program has been pretty successful at lowering crime rates among adolescents.”

  “Skipping school isn’t a crime.”

  “No. But kids with too much spare time on their hands often find themselves in trouble.”

  Jay sighed. Why was he defending Eric? He knew the kid was headed down the wrong path. He just didn’t have a clue what to do about it. He zipped his case closed then turned to leave.

  “Jay?”

  He waited to see what she wanted.

  “I know Officer Bradford…. Would you like me to come with you?”

  He instinctively shook his head no. But then he thought about it. He had nothing new to say to Eric. Maybe Kate, as a former police officer, would be able to reach him.

  “I’m out of ideas on how to deal with the kid,” he said wearily.

  “Then let me come.” She quickly closed down the computer. “Working with juvies was one of my specialties when I was with the police department.”

  KATE HADN’T BEEN ABLE to stop herself from volunteering to help once she’d seen the stricken look on Jay’s face. She knew Jay had been worried Eric was making some poor choices. This pretty much proved it.

  Once they’d hopped on board the northbound subway, Kate explained more about the TRACK program to Jay. “The idea is to keep kids in school and not on the street. The police bring them to a central holding location where they’re screened with a metal-detecting wand, then made to sit quietly until their parents come to pick them up.”

  “Why don’t they send them back to school?”

  “The kids probably wish they would. They aren’t allowed to talk to one another. There’s nothing to read, no cell phones or iPods. Lots of kids give out fake contact numbers, but when they realize the only way they’re getting released is if a parent or guardian comes to pick them up, they eventually get cooperative.”

  Kate checked the sign on the subway wall. “This is our stop.”

  Jay followed her off the car, up several sets of stairs, then out to the street. Kate wrinkled her face against the cold wind and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “Over here,” she said, directing him to an old brick building. They passed through a gate, then down a short flight of stairs.

  “This is it,” she said, leading him into a dimly lit auditorium.

  “It’s so quiet.”

  It was surprising, Kate agreed, given how many kids were packed into the space. A uniformed police officer sat at a desk near the entrance. Her black hair was braided tightly to her head and her dark chocolate eyes were serious and focused.

  When she spotted Kate, however, her bright red lips broke out into a wide smile. “Hey, Cooper, how’s it going?”

  “I’ve quit the force,” Kate told her. “I’m working for a private agency now.”

  Officer Bradford sighed. “And another one bites the dust.” Her gaze shifted to Jay. “You two work together?”

  “You could say that.” He stepped forward to introduce himself. “I’m here for my nephew, Eric Savage.”

  “Ah. The quiet one. This is the first time we’ve picked him up, but when I phoned his school, I found out he’s m
issed a lot of classes lately.”

  “Well, he’s had a tough month. He lost his mother—my sister—at the end of February. Eric’s had to move in with me and adjust to a whole new set of rules.”

  Officer Bradford’s eyes widened with sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. Eric didn’t say a thing. Just told me to call you rather than his mother.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s not one for sharing.”

  “Mr. Savage, if you’d like some help dealing with your nephew, we could have a social service worker visit the home.”

  Kate watched him consider the offer. She knew he wanted the best for his nephew, but it wasn’t easy turning to strangers for help.

  “I might take you up on that, eventually,” he finally said. “But I’d like to try one more time to work out a solution between the two of us.”

  “Well, here’s a number to call in case you change your mind. And take my business card, too. If you’re ever worried about Eric, you go right ahead and give me a call.”

  Jay shook her hand and thanked her.

  “Now let me get Eric for you.”

  As Kate and Jay watched, Officer Bradford approached Eric and spoke to him quietly. Slowly Eric got to his feet, but as he walked toward his uncle, he avoided eye contact. He gave Kate one puzzled glance, then lowered his head again.

  Finally Eric stood in front of Jay and neither one of them seemed to know what to say.

  Stepping into the void, Kate put a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “Hi, Eric. I’m Kate Cooper. I work at The Fox & Fisher Detective Agency with your uncle right now, but I used to work for the NYPD.”

  His gaze flew up. “You’re a cop?”

  “I used to be.”

  Eric whispered something under his breath. Kate wasn’t sure, but she thought she’d heard him say, “Cool.” It wasn’t the response she’d expected from Jay’s hard-nosed nephew.

  “Let’s get out of here so we can talk,” Kate suggested.

  “Good luck with that,” Jay muttered, so only she could hear. Still, he followed behind them as Kate led the way to the street.

  “Which way is home?” she asked Eric, and Jay kept quiet, leaving Eric to be the one to give directions.

  “Sixty-ninth Street,” Eric said. “We need to grab the subway.”

  “Why don’t we walk,” she suggested instead. It would take a long while to cover thirty blocks, but the exercise would do everyone good. And sometimes it was easier to talk when you didn’t feel like everyone was staring at you.

  There wasn’t enough room on the sidewalk for three abreast, so Jay hung back and let Kate take the lead with his nephew. She was surprised when the young teenager started quizzing her about her former job on the police force.

  “Why’d you decide to be a cop?”

  “It’s just something I always wanted. A lot of the people at the NYPD are the same—we grew up knowing what we wanted to do. Only in my case, I changed my mind.”

  She glanced back at Jay and saw him make a rueful face.

  “Have you ever shot someone?”

  “I’ve pulled my weapon, but never fired it on the job, thank God.”

  “Is it dangerous being a cop? Or do they just make it seem that way on TV?”

  “Yes, it is dangerous. But we’re trained to handle almost every situation you can imagine.”

  “Yeah? What kind of training?”

  “Well, some of the training takes place in the classroom, reading and talking over various situations. But we run through simulations, too, where we basically act out dangerous scenarios and learn the correct procedures for handling them in real life.”

  “That sounds sweet. Why would you want to quit?”

  “Working as an independent investigator is interesting, too. And you still get to help people, which is the part of the job that I like the most.”

  She waited a few moments, then asked, “Have you ever thought about what you’d like to do when you’re finished school?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She wondered if that was true. “You need a high school degree for almost any kind of job or career.”

  “I know.”

  She glanced back at Jay, who was following the conversation with interest. He gave her a nod of encouragement.

  “So why have you been skipping your classes?” she pressed gently. “Is there a problem with some of the kids, or maybe one of the teachers?”

  “Mom never used to care if I went. She said school was boring and stupid.”

  “Do you find it boring?”

  He lifted one shoulder, shifting his backpack at the same time. “Some of the classes are.”

  “When you get to high school, you’ll have more say in choosing your courses. Maybe that will help.”

  “He has to get to high school first,” Jay pointed out.

  While correct, Kate wasn’t sure Jay’s comment was helpful. Eric’s head drooped and he began walking slower. Perhaps he was just tired.

  Eventually they ended up at a low-rise apartment building on Sixty-ninth Street. Eric leaned against the brick wall next to the entrance as Jay turned to Kate.

  “Thanks for coming along.”

  “No problem.” She frowned as she studied Eric. “Are you okay? Do you mind if I feel your forehead?”

  When he shrugged, she leaned forward and slipped her hand under his blond curls. His skin seemed very warm to her but was it just from the long walk? “How do you feel?”

  Eric said nothing, but Jay stepped forward for a closer look at his nephew.

  “He didn’t eat much for dinner or breakfast. I think you’re right, Kate. Maybe he caught that bug that’s going around.”

  “My throat’s kind of sore. A lot of kids at school are sick,” Eric allowed.

  “How would you know?” Jay asked. “You haven’t been there much lately.”

  Eric flushed and Jay seemed to regret his sarcastic comment. “That’s okay, Eric. We’ll talk about this later. Right now I think you need some sleep.”

  “And maybe some chicken soup,” Kate added. “That’s what I always feel like when I’m under the weather.”

  “I have some cans in the cupboard,” Jay said. “We’ll see what we can find. Thanks again, Kate.” He touched her arm. “Are you headed home? Would you like me to call you a cab?”

  “It’s not far. I’ll walk.” She started down the sidewalk, then turned back. “Take care of yourself, Eric. It was nice to meet you.”

  The teenager gave her a tepid wave before following his uncle in the main door.

  Kate stood in place a moment, uneasy for some reason at leaving the two behind. There was so much tension between them. She wished she could understand why. Eric had certainly been polite enough with her. But he didn’t have much to say to his uncle.

  Finally the cold forced her to start walking again. When she passed by a market, she decided to stop in for some groceries and found herself selecting all the ingredients she needed for homemade chicken soup.

  As she waited at the till, she noticed a young mother in the lineup beside her. The healthy, plump woman had what looked to be a four-month-old in a chest carrier. The baby was awake and curious, trying to touch the gold studs in the mother’s ears.

  “What an adorable baby,” Kate couldn’t help commenting. The little one was in a purple snowsuit with a green hat. “Boy or girl?”

  “Girl.” The young mother flashed her a tired smile, then set a tin of baby formula and a package of diapers on the conveyer belt. The baby reached once more for the earrings. “Stop that, Emma darling,” the mother said, taking her baby’s fingers and kissing them.

  “That will be thirty-seven fifty, please.”

  “Sorry?” Suddenly Kate realized the clerk was speaking to her. She paid for her groceries, then left the store, a familiar yearning spreading through her and pressing against her rib cage.

  I want a baby.

  She stepped outside and let the March wind snap her quickly back to reality. She wasn’t ma
rried and had no prospects of getting pregnant. She would do better to concentrate on her career right now.

  At home, after dinner, she should spend some time on the Internet. But home was such a quiet place these days. And she couldn’t forget the look she had seen in Eric’s eyes. The sadness that she suspected lay deeper in his soul than the anger and sullenness he displayed to his uncle.

  She headed back toward Jay’s apartment and rang the bell. “Hi, it’s Kate. If I’m not imposing, I thought I would make you and Eric some soup for dinner.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  IN HER YEARS WITH THE NYPD, Kate had learned how to read a New York City apartment pretty accurately. Jay’s held no surprises. Good-quality leather furniture, functional lamps and a large, flat-screen TV marked him as a single, well-salaried male. The framed photographs on the wall—sky shots which could only have been taken from a cockpit—identified him as a pilot.

  Eric was already asleep on the sofa, so she trod quietly to take a closer look at the three pictures. “These are amazing.”

  One photo captured a floor of cotton-ball clouds in a broad expanse of cornflower-blue sky. Another showed the sun setting on the Sierra Madre range reflecting bands of earthy pinks and orange and violet. And the final one, perhaps the most impressive, was an electrical storm at night, taken from a vantage point that few people ever experience.

  “That lightning looks awfully close. Were you terrified?”

  “Electrical storms are always a danger. But we’re trained to navigate our way through storm lines. If you can’t find a soft spot on the radar, then you have to reroute.”

  She continued down the hall to the kitchen, where Jay had already set out her groceries. Music was playing softly from an iPod dock on the counter and a bottle of sparkling water was opened next to a couple of glasses.

  Jay handed her one of the glasses. “This is very nice of you, Kate.”

  “Not so nice. My evenings are pretty free these days.” As she sipped the water, she studied the layout of the cabinets, then took a guess and opened one. Inside she found the large pot she’d been looking for. She filled it two-thirds with water, then added the chicken pieces she’d bought at the store.