Nikki explained, "Rook was doing a profile of her."
Petar said, "Oh, so then she told you what it was?"
Rook couldn't tell if Petar knew or was fishing for what he knew, which could have been less than Petar knew, so he said, "Mm, not in so many words."
"I don't know, either." Petar used his forefinger to poke a caper off Nikki's plate. He stuck it on his tongue and said, "I heard about it from one of my publishing contacts. Cassidy was supposedly working on a tell-all book about someone. She was writing a tattler. And when it came out, some very powerful people were going to go to jail for a very long time."
Chapter Eleven
Jameson Rook got up at five the next morning to get his life back in order. After he showered and dressed, he ground beans for a pot of strong coffee then carried a broom, dustpan, and bucket of cleaning products down the hallway to his office to confront the shambles created by the Texan two days before. Standing there in the doorway, he paused to assess the post-tornado zone of his cozy writer's workplace: strewn files; emptied desk drawers; broken glass from pictures, awards, and framed magazine covers; banker's boxes of research clawed open and dumped; his own bloodstain dried on the floor; rummaged cabinets; scattered books; lamp shades off-kilter; the writer's chair that had become his prison-OK, he thought, actually, that one wasn't much of a change.
His view was a snapshot of personal violation, both disheartening and overwhelming. Rook couldn't figure out where to begin. So he did the only logical thing. He put the broom, the dustpan, and the cleaning products in the corner and sat down at his computer to Google Petar Matic.
He smiled as he typed in the name. Say it quickly and it sounded like an erotic toy. Best don't go there, he thought. Not if he wanted the morning to be about getting his life in order.
To his surprise, numerous Petar Matics came up. A prominent financial guy, a teacher, a Cleveland firefighter, and so on, but no hits on Nikki Heat's college beau. Not until the second screen page. The sole link was to a dated bio excerpted from a wildlife documentary film he had shot once in Thailand, New Friends, Old Worlds. It wasn't much of a mention. "A film student and adventurer from the village of Kamensko in Croatia who had resettled in the United States, Petar Matic was honored to received a grant for a film introducing the world to a host of newly discovered species." So Petar was one of those guys who shot footage of snakes with two tails and birds with hair under their wings.
Next he searched: "Petar Matic Nikki Heat" and was glad for no matches. He was especially relieved there was no link to any film project. He nudged out of his brain the image of Nikki and some Croatian Romeo as haunting green ghosts in some night vision video and started sweeping up broken glass.
About a half hour later his cell phone rang with the Dragnet theme. "Notice I'm calling you this time before I show up," said Nikki. "I'm around the corner, and you've got exactly two minutes to shoo the cougars."
"All of them? I'm growing fond of this one. In fact, hang on." He pretended to cover the mouthpiece and said, "Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson?"
When he got back on, Nikki said, "Careful there, Rook. You'll give yourself another nosebleed."
She arrived with coffee that even she admitted was no match for his and a bag of warm Zucker's bagels seeing their first sunrise. "I figured I'd stay downtown this morning so we can go visit Cassidy Towne's editor right when the publishing house opens and then head up to the precinct from there." She saw something come across his face and said, "What?"
"Nothing. I just didn't know we'd be going to the publisher together, that's all."
"You don't want to come? Rook, you want to come everywhere. You're like a golden retriever with a Frisbee in your mouth the moment you hear car keys."
"Sure, of course, I want to go. I'm just bummed I didn't make more progress. It's still a FEMA site back there."
She brought her coffee and a gouged-out sesame bagel half to the office for an assessment. "You've hardly made a dent."
"Well, I got started, and then got on the computer and got caught up working on my Cassidy Towne piece."
Nikki looked at his monitor, where the Big Lebowski screen saver was engaged-a floating image of the Dude's head on a bowling ball. Then her gaze drifted to the radio-controlled toy helicopter on the desk. She put her hand on the fuselage. "Still warm," she said.
"The bad guys don't stand a chance with you, Nikki Heat."
They had a half hour before they had to leave for the publisher, so Nikki began collecting loose papers off the floor. Rook found a home for the helicopter on the windowsill and said, as casually as he could make it sound for a man who was fishing, "Must have been bizarre seeing your old boyfriend like that."
"Blew me away, is what it did. Of all the gin joints, you know?" And then she said, "So you think he was one of Cassidy's conquests, do you?"
"What? Huh, I hadn't thought of it." He turned away quickly to scoop pens back into his souvenir mug from the Mark Twain Museum. "Is that what you think?"
"Don't really know. Sometimes it's nice to take someone at face value." She looked at him, and he turned away again, this time on paper clip patrol. "It was a different side to hear about Cassidy, helping someone out like she did for Pet."
Pet. Rook concentrated so he wouldn't roll his eyes. "Well, from what I saw of Cassidy, she was tough but she wasn't a monster. But I wouldn't say she was altruistic, either. I'm sure by helping Pete learn the ropes she was also building a relationship with a TV insider on a solid foundation of 'IOU.' "
"Did she have anybody who you would call a close friend?"
"From what I saw, no. She was wired to be a loner. That's not to say lonely. But her downtime was spent with her flowers, not people. Did you see the porcelain plaque screwed into her wall by the French doors? 'When life disappoints, there's always the garden.' "
"Sounds like Cassidy spent a lot of her time coping with disappointment."
"Still," he said, "you can't fault a person whose passion is for helping living things. Albeit vegetation."
Nikki hefted a pile of recovered papers and evened the corners by tapping them against her tummy. "I don't know where you want these filed, so I'll just make stacks on your credenza. At least you'll be able to walk around in here while you play with your toy chopper."
He worked alongside her, chucking anything that was broken into the kitchen trash can he had put in service. "You know, I like this little bit of shared domestic activity."
"Don't get any ideas," she said. "Although, mm-mm-mm. What says turn-on to a police gal more than cleaning up a crime scene?" The credenza was full, so Nikki set an armful of files on the desktop, and when she did, her arm grazed the space bar on Rook's keyboard, causing the screen saver to vanish. The Dude disappeared, exposing the Google search results for "Petar Matic Nikki Heat."
Rook wasn't sure she saw it, and he closed his laptop, muttering something about getting it out of her way. If she had seen it, she didn't let on. Rook forced himself to wait a few moments, working in silence. After a decent interval, he transitioned to shelving books, then casually dropped in a "Hey, I tried calling you last night but you didn't answer."
"I know" was all she said.
When they left the Later On studios the night before, Rook had pushed for a dinner date but she wasn't up for it, telling him that she was exhausted from the evening before.
"You mean our sex?" he had asked.
"Oh, yes, Rook, you wore me out."
"Really?"
"Feel good about you. If you recall, I had an altercation with the Texan right before our night of bliss. Followed by a pretty full day of trooping around on this investigation."
"I did all those things, too."