“You look hungry, officer,” he said. “You know what you might like? Goody’s Barnyard Platter.” He flashed me a self-satisfied smile. “It’s all white-meat chicken.”
That did it. I snapped. My brain hadn’t come up with a plan, so my testosterone took over. I grabbed him hard and pulled him from his chair. It shocked the hell out of both of us.
“You have no right to grab me like—”
“Shut your mouth, D bag.” I bent his left arm back and pulled the gold watch from his wrist.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I’ve been trained to deal with people who are rich, famous, and used to getting their asses kissed. If a cop wants to make the cut at Red, he’s got to be even-tempered, self-disciplined, emotionally stable. Kylie can sometimes cross the line, which is why Cates teamed us up. I was the voice of reason. But suddenly, without warning, I had become Dirty Harry.
I flipped the watch over and read the inscription. “Who’s Kylie?” I said.
“I don’t know.”
“The back of your watch says she loves you always,” I said, twisting his arm.
He yelped. “I bought it in a pawnshop.”
I shoved him back down in his chair. “Let me see the receipt.”
By now most of the people in the restaurant had looked up from their food and were watching the angry white guy push around the preppy-looking black kid. None of them looked like they were contemplating getting involved, but I flashed my shield just in case, and they quickly went back to the all-important task of filling their bellies and hardening their arteries.
Then I held the shield up to Baby D. “Detective Zachary Jordan,” I said, sitting down directly across from him.
“You just broke every rule in the Boy Scout handbook, Jordan.”
“Well, now you know what kind of cop you’re dealing with. Where’s Spence Harrington?”
“I already told the lady cop—”
“Her name is Kylie. Like it says on your watch.” I handed it back to him.
“I already told her. I don’t know where her old man is.”
I unsnapped my handcuff holster and pulled out the cuffs.
“What’s that for?” Baby D said.
“I’m arresting you for selling drugs.”
He laughed. “Dream on, Detective. Do you think I’m stupid enough to be holding?”
“I haven’t quite figured out how stupid you are yet, Damian, but I’m the one who’s holding. I’ve got a baggie with an eight ball of booger sugar right here in my jacket pocket, and when I take you in, I’m going to say you sold it to me.”
“Bullshit. That’s a goddamn lie.”
“You’re right.” I leaned forward and whispered, “I borrowed it from the evidence clerk at my precinct, but I’m going to swear you sold it to me. So either step outside and talk to my partner, or an hour from now your pretty little baby face is going to bring joy to the hearts of a lot of lonely men in a holding cell at Central Booking.”
Drug dealers don’t give up their customers’ whereabouts to the cops. It can be bad for their business. Or their health. Damian stared at me. Was I lying? Or did I really have cocaine in my pocket that I’d say was his?
I gave him my best Clint Eastwood stare back, but I didn’t have the balls to say, “Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
He blinked. He stood up and closed his laptop, and I walked him out to Lexington Avenue.
“Mr. Hillsborough has had a change of heart,” I said to Kylie. “Ask him anything.”
“When did you last see my husband?” she said.
“He didn’t tell me he was married to a cop.”
“Answer the question,” she said.
“Yesterday. He was on a shopping spree, but he was a little low on cash, so we negotiated, and I got this handsome timepiece, and he got... well, you know what he got.” Damian held out Spence’s watch. “Take it. It’s yours.”
Kylie shook her head. “No. Technically, it’s yours. Where is Spence now?”
“Look, lady, I’m a dope dealer, not a travel agent,” he said, putting the watch back on his wrist. “I don’t know where to find your husband, but he knows where to find me. And the way that boy was fiending, trust me: he will.”
Kylie pulled her card out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here’s your get-out-of-jail-free card, Damian,” she said. “Don’t lose it.”
Chapter 18
“What the hell was that all about?” Kylie said as soon as we were back in the car.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He pissed me off. I guess I lost my shit.”
“You could have lost your job, Rambo. You’re lucky Damian is a dope dealer. If he was Joe Citizen, he’d lawyer up and call you out on police brutality.”
“I’m not worried. The definition of police brutality is the use of excessive force by a cop when he’s dealing with a civilian.”
“It looked pretty damn excessive to me.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t a cop. I was off duty.”
“So that must have been your off-duty shield you flashed,” she said, laughing.
“Are you finished yet, Judge Judy?”
“Almost. I’ve got one more thing to say.” She stopped the car at a light on 116th Street. She turned to me, and a generous smile spread across her face. “Thanks, partner.”
“I was wondering when you’d get around to that.”
“My timing sucks, but I mean it, Zach: thanks. When I tracked Baby D down, I thought I’d ask him a few questions, and that would be it. I didn’t know he’d be such a hard-ass. It threw me off. That’s why I called you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Anytime, partner,” I said. “The problem is I don’t know how much it’s going to help. All he told you was that Spence scored some coke yesterday. I’m sure you must have figured that out this afternoon when you were standing ankle-deep in the wreckage at Silvercup.”
“It helps a lot more than you think,” she said. “Spence pulled five thousand dollars out of our bank account yesterday morning, which means he had enough cash to buy a quarter of a key.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “If he had that much money, why did he pay Baby D for the drugs with his watch?”
“For the same reason he busted up those sets. He was sending me another message.”
“Which is...?”
“If it has anything to do with me, he’s going to destroy it or get rid of it.”
“Ouch,” I said. “That hurts.”
“It sure does,” she said. “That’s why he’s doing it.”
The light turned green, and we rolled south on Lexington. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was after nine. At this point calling Cheryl wouldn’t cut it. I put the phone in my lap and stared out the window.
Kylie must have read my body language. “Do you want me to call Cheryl and apologize for screwing up your dinner?”
“Absolutely not.”
“From the look on your face, I’m guessing she was pissed that you had to leave.”
“Let’s just say she wasn’t happy.”
“She better get used to it, Zach. She’s living with a cop now. It’s the nature of the beast. We get called out day and night.”
“She works for the department, Kylie. I’m pretty sure she knows what being a cop is all about.”
“So what’s her problem?”
“This wasn’t a cop call,” I said.
I could see Kylie connecting the dots in her head. Knowing her, this had been all about NYPD putting the squeeze on a bad guy. She’d completely forgotten that the entire operation was personal.
“Oh,” she said. “Right. It won’t happen again.”