When Detective Heat got back to the bull pen, Captain Montrose was slouched in his office chair with the door closed, his back to the squad, staring out his window down to West 82nd Street. He might have seen her drive into the precinct lot below him, but if he did, he made no move to greet or look for her. Nikki made a quick scan of the While You Were Outs on her blotter, saw nothing that couldn’t wait, and felt her heart race as she walked to his door. When he heard her knock on the glass, he beckoned her in without turning. Heat closed the door behind her and stood looking at the back of his head. After five eternal seconds he sat upright and swiveled in his chair to face her, as if willing himself out of some trance and down to business.
“You’ve had quite a day already, I hear,” he said.
“Action-packed, Skip.” He gestured to the visitor chair and she sat.
“Wanna trade? I spent my morning wearing the dunce cap at the Puzzle Palace,” he said, using the less-than-flattering cop slang for One Police Plaza. And then he shook his head. “Sorry. I promised I wouldn’t complain, but it’s got to come out somewhere.”
Nikki’s gaze went to the windowsill and the framed photo of him and Pauletta. That was when she realized Montrose hadn’t been staring out the window but at the picture. It had been almost a year since a drunk driver killed her in a crosswalk. The pain of his loss was borne stoically, but the toll was written on his face. Suddenly Nikki wished she hadn’t initiated this meeting. But she already had.
“You called about something?”
“Yes, about the priest, Father Graf.” She studied him, but he was passive. “I’m working the BDSM angle first.”
“Makes perfect sense.” Still just listening.
“And there are indications of a search at his rectory and an item or items missing.” She regarded him more closely, but he gave nothing back. “I have Hinesburg up there on it.”
“Hinesburg?” At last a reaction.
“I know, I know, long story. I’ll do my own follow-up to backstop her.”
“Nikki, you’re the best I’ve ever seen at this. Better than me, and that’s, well, that’s pretty damn good. Word’s around you might be getting yourself a gold bar soon, and I can’t think of anyone more deserving. I gave my recommendation, which might not be your best calling card the way things are going.”
“Thank you, Captain, that means a lot.”
“So what did you need to talk to me about?”
Heat tried to toss it aside and sound casual. “Just touching base on something, actually. When I went to the rectory this morning to confirm ID on the vic, the housekeeper said you had been there last night.”
“That’s correct.” He rocked slightly in his executive chair but held her look. Heat could see the smallest flash of steel in his eyes and felt her resolve crumbling. She knew if she uttered the question she wanted to ask, it would start something in motion she would never be able to call back. “And?” he said.
Free fall. Nikki was in absolute free fall. What was she going to say? That with all his erratic behavior, the rumors about Internal Affairs—and now pressure from the media—she wanted to make him justify himself? Heat was one question away from treating him like a suspect. She had thought through everything about this meeting except one thing: her unwillingness to spoil a relationship over rumor and appearances. “And I just wanted to ask for your take. And see if you learned anything while you were there.”