“I waited until after seven.”
“Lauren, really, it’s fine. I’m already dressed and I’ve had my exercise,” Nikki said, looking at her naked reflection in the mirror. Rook lifted himself up and his smiling face appeared in the mirror with her.
“Well, that’s half-?true,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Oh…Sounds like you have company. Nikki Heat, do you have company?”
“No, that was the TV. Those ads come on so loud.” She turned to Rook and put a finger to her lips.
“You have man company.”
Nikki pressed for a change of subject. “What’s going on, Laur?”
“I’m working a crime scene. Let me give you the address.”
“Hang on, I need something to write with.” Nikki crossed to the dresser and grabbed a pen. She couldn’t find a pad or paper, so she flipped over her copy of First Press with Rook and Bono on the cover and wrote on the vodka ad on the back. “OK.”
“I’m at the impound lot near the Javits.”
“I know the impound. That’s West, what, 38th?”
“Yes, at 12th,” said Lauren. “A tow driver found a body in a car he was hauling. First Precinct’s got jurisdiction, but I thought I’d give you a call because you’re definitely going to want to come by for this. I found something that might relate to your Matthew Starr case.”
“What? Tell me.”
Nikki could hear voices in the background. The mouthpiece rustled as Lauren covered it and spoke to someone, then she came back on. “Detectives from the First just got here all hot to trot, so I’ve got to go. See you when you get here.”
Nikki hung up and turned to see Rook was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you ashamed of me, Detective Heat?” He said it with a theatrical air. Nikki could hear a bit of the Grand Damn in his posh accent. “You bed me, but you hide me from your high-?class friends. I feel so…cheap.”
“Comes with the territory.’”
Rook thought a moment and said, “You could have told her I was here for security.”
“You?”
“Well…I did cover you.” He took her hand and pulled her closer, so that she stood between his knees.
“I’ve got an appointment with a corpse.”
He looped his legs behind hers and rested his hands on her hips. “Last night was great, don’t you think?”
“It was. And you know what else last night was? Last night.” And she strode to her closet to get dressed for work.
Rook did the cab fishing on Park Avenue South and hooked a northbound whopper, a minivan-?cab. He held the door for Nikki, who got in with one last glance over her shoulder, harboring the concern that Captain Montrose had left a blue-?and-?white on her and she’d be spotted on her morning after with Jameson Rook. “Looking for Pochenko?” asked Rook.
“Not really. Old habit.”
She gave the cabbie Rook’s address in Tribeca.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Aren’t we going to the impound lot?”
“One of us is going to the impound lot. The other is going to go home and change his clothes.”
“Thanks, but if you can stand me, I’ll wear this again today. I’d rather hang with you. Although, checking out a body isn’t exactly our best denouement. After a night like that, the New York thing would be to take you to brunch. And pretend to write down your phone number.”
“No, you’re going to go change. I can’t think of a worse idea than for the two of us to show up in the same cab at my friend’s crime scene first thing in the morning with bed hair and one of us in yesterday’s clothes.”
“We could show up wearing each other’s clothes, that would be worse.” He laughed and took her hand. She withdrew hers.
“Have you noticed I don’t do a lot of hand holding on the job? Slows down my fast draw.”