clear, stern voice he said, “Mr. Watkins, it appears that you have a guardian angel. You had better not let me see you before this court again. This matter is dismissed.”
Nick was glad to be rid of the case, but he didn’t want Fisher to know it. He turned, planning to commiserate with the sergeant, but only saw Fisher’s back as he swung the courtroom doors open and disappeared. Hall shrugged his shoulders like a kid who’s lost the game for his team but doesn’t really care. He followed Fisher through the doorway.
Nick gathered up his files. On to Monica and her arraignments.
CHAPTER 25
A lves dangled the bag in front of him, and Mooney looked up from the clutter on his desk. “Thai food?” he smiled. “From The King and I? My favorite. Hope you got me a fork. I’m not eating with sticks. How can you be so good to me after I’ve been riding you all week?”
“This is a thank-you for letting me go to the party the other night. That saved my marriage. Besides, I’m not being that good to you,” Alves said. “I dropped a bag of food off for Marcy and the kids so she wouldn’t have to cook tonight. We usually do pizza on Fridays, but I figured this would be a special treat for her. Marcy wasn’t happy, but she seemed to understand. Luckily she blames you for everything.”
“I’ll take the hit for you, as long as you keep feeding me,” Mooney said. “Let me give you some money.” He took his ratty old wallet, bound together with rubber bands, out of his back pocket.
“Sarge, your money is no good here,” Alves said. He waved Mooney off. “And, what’s with the wallet? It’s falling apart. When’s your birthday? I’ll buy you a new one.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this wallet.” Mooney took the white containers out of the bag and set them up on the day’s edition of the Boston Globe. “Elastics make it harder for a pickpocket.”
“So does the gun on your hip. You really think someone’s going to steal a wallet from a cop?”
“You can never be too careful. Now sit down and pass the pad thai.”
Alves piled some food on a plate and took a bite before flipping through some missing-persons reports. He hated not having dinner with the family, especially on pizza night. The kids loved pizza. Angel had to have pepperoni and Iris had to have extra cheese. He’d barely seen his family all week. He actually missed giving the kids their baths and arguing with them to brush their teeth and tucking them into bed. Most of all he missed the quiet time he and Marcy had together once the kids were asleep, even if it was only an hour or so before they went to bed themselves.
Alves looked at Mooney. The sergeant seemed wiped out. Five days had gone by and they were no closer to catching Susan McCarthy’s killer.
“Sarge, I’ve gone back more than a year on the missing persons. The only one remotely close is Emily Knight. The one similarity is that she’s a professional, white woman. But she’s much younger, twenty-two. Never married, lots of boyfriends, nothing serious. She’d been renting an apartment in a two-family.”
Mooney looked up, interested. “What’s the story on her disappearance?”
“She leaves work on a Friday night last fall and never shows up for work the following Monday morning. No one reports her missing until her boss calls us.”
“Did she like her job?”
“She made decent money, but a few of her co-workers said she hated the work. Apparently the stress was getting to her and she felt like she was wasting her life. Looks like she may have taken off to get away from everything.”
“Did she take any of her belongings?”
“She didn’t have much to take. Some old furniture she got at yard sales and the clothes she wore to work. She could be hitchhiking across the U.S. of A. for all we know. Remember those two jackass college students who took off to Florida a couple of years ago? Their parents got the police to launch a nationwide search for the
Nick was glad to be rid of the case, but he didn’t want Fisher to know it. He turned, planning to commiserate with the sergeant, but only saw Fisher’s back as he swung the courtroom doors open and disappeared. Hall shrugged his shoulders like a kid who’s lost the game for his team but doesn’t really care. He followed Fisher through the doorway.
Nick gathered up his files. On to Monica and her arraignments.
CHAPTER 25
A lves dangled the bag in front of him, and Mooney looked up from the clutter on his desk. “Thai food?” he smiled. “From The King and I? My favorite. Hope you got me a fork. I’m not eating with sticks. How can you be so good to me after I’ve been riding you all week?”
“This is a thank-you for letting me go to the party the other night. That saved my marriage. Besides, I’m not being that good to you,” Alves said. “I dropped a bag of food off for Marcy and the kids so she wouldn’t have to cook tonight. We usually do pizza on Fridays, but I figured this would be a special treat for her. Marcy wasn’t happy, but she seemed to understand. Luckily she blames you for everything.”
“I’ll take the hit for you, as long as you keep feeding me,” Mooney said. “Let me give you some money.” He took his ratty old wallet, bound together with rubber bands, out of his back pocket.
“Sarge, your money is no good here,” Alves said. He waved Mooney off. “And, what’s with the wallet? It’s falling apart. When’s your birthday? I’ll buy you a new one.”
“There’s nothing wrong with this wallet.” Mooney took the white containers out of the bag and set them up on the day’s edition of the Boston Globe. “Elastics make it harder for a pickpocket.”
“So does the gun on your hip. You really think someone’s going to steal a wallet from a cop?”
“You can never be too careful. Now sit down and pass the pad thai.”
Alves piled some food on a plate and took a bite before flipping through some missing-persons reports. He hated not having dinner with the family, especially on pizza night. The kids loved pizza. Angel had to have pepperoni and Iris had to have extra cheese. He’d barely seen his family all week. He actually missed giving the kids their baths and arguing with them to brush their teeth and tucking them into bed. Most of all he missed the quiet time he and Marcy had together once the kids were asleep, even if it was only an hour or so before they went to bed themselves.
Alves looked at Mooney. The sergeant seemed wiped out. Five days had gone by and they were no closer to catching Susan McCarthy’s killer.
“Sarge, I’ve gone back more than a year on the missing persons. The only one remotely close is Emily Knight. The one similarity is that she’s a professional, white woman. But she’s much younger, twenty-two. Never married, lots of boyfriends, nothing serious. She’d been renting an apartment in a two-family.”
Mooney looked up, interested. “What’s the story on her disappearance?”
“She leaves work on a Friday night last fall and never shows up for work the following Monday morning. No one reports her missing until her boss calls us.”
“Did she like her job?”
“She made decent money, but a few of her co-workers said she hated the work. Apparently the stress was getting to her and she felt like she was wasting her life. Looks like she may have taken off to get away from everything.”
“Did she take any of her belongings?”
“She didn’t have much to take. Some old furniture she got at yard sales and the clothes she wore to work. She could be hitchhiking across the U.S. of A. for all we know. Remember those two jackass college students who took off to Florida a couple of years ago? Their parents got the police to launch a nationwide search for the
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