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He said, “Seriously, Mike, this isn’t going to change anything between us or on the squad. Maybe some bosses will be pissed off, but they’re so used to the FBI bullshit that I doubt anyone will care. I’ll talk to Santos, then call you back when things have leveled out.”
That made me feel better. Seeing the kids and having one last dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers set my head on straight. I also decided that just because I wasn’t officially on the task force investigating the attack on the parade, that didn’t mean I couldn’t do anything about it. I was still a cop.
Now I was a pissed-off cop. And I wanted to find out what the hell was going on. Things were not as they appeared, and my unrelenting need to understand events kept pushing me.
Jane plopped down on the couch next to me and said, “What’cha workin’ on?”
“Nothing, really. Just putting a few thoughts down on paper.”
She laid her head on my shoulder and pointed at the page where I’d been doodling and said, “I especially like your thoughts about this boat and the giant shark behind it. Did you watch Jaws again last night?”
I let out a laugh. “No, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
She turned that beautiful face toward me and looked at me like I was about to explain the meaning of life.
I said, “The only things I can draw are boats, sharks, and swords. Anything else looks like a chimpanzee grabbed the pencil.”
Jane said, “That’s incredible. I’m in the same boat.”
“You can only draw a few things?”
“No. Mine is with reading. I can really zip through novels I like by great writers like Michael Connelly and Tess Gerritsen. But when I read the history books I’m assigned at school, I just can’t get into them. Now that I know it’s just a family issue, I won’t worry about it as much.”
Even though I liked her sly smile, I said, “Sorry, that’s not gonna cut it. It’s an interesting argument and I admire the effort that went into it, but you’ll read every history book assigned or I’ll try to draw your portrait and post it at school.”
Jane said, “I like that kind of out-of-the-box thinking. You’re turning out to be a pretty good parent.”
That was the kind of praise I needed about now.
I was still smiling at the remark a few minutes later when my phone rang and I heard Harry Grissom’s voice. As usual, he got right to the point.
“Mike, it was too hard to listen to that jerk-off Santos. He was jabbering on about you not following regulations. But all I could say was, ‘So what else is new?’”
A smile crept across my face, though I’d been dreading this call.
Grissom said, “I’ve never seen them quite like this before.”
I said half-jokingly, “So you don’t want me to show up at the FBI office tomorrow?”
“I don’t even want you to show up at an NYPD office tomorrow. You’ve earned a day or two off. Enjoy yourself.”
If I was a good parent, Harry Grissom was a great lieutenant.
Chapter 24
I SPENT SUNDAY with the family and on Monday was up early to make sure everyone got off to school without a hitch. It was fun. We played a couple of quick games over breakfast and on the short ride to Holy Name. We even arrived more than five minutes early. I was afraid it might give Sister Sheila a heart attack.
She surprised me with a simple smile and wave.
I ran some errands, cleaned up the apartment, and in general sulked about not being at the task force. Then, in the afternoon, I stopped in to say hello to my grandfather. He was busy at his desk when I walked through the front door of the administrative offices for the church.
I said, “What are you working on, old man?” I expected a smart-aleck reply.
Instead, Seamus said, “I’ve got to get this grant into the city before the close of business today.”
“Since when do you worry about grants?”
