Catch Me (Detective D.D. Warren, #6)(70)

“What?”

“If it really is Charlene Grant, she only has two days left. Given she’s probably cleared her calendar for the twenty-first, that means sometime in the next twenty-four hours…”

“Another pervert will bite the dust.”

“With the twenty-two semiauto we just returned to her.”





Chapter 23


FOUR THIRTY P.M. Sky was already dark, snow drifted lazily outside the apartment window, and Jesse was nearly frantic.

He’d been asking to go to the Boston Public Library for, like, the whole afternoon. He’d wanted to take a bus after school, but his mother had said no. She didn’t want him on the bus in this weather, meaning there were, like, six snowflakes on the sidewalk and now the whole world had to grind to a halt.

When he’d begged and pleaded and nearly cried with frustration, she’d finally said she’d take him at four, when she got off the phone, because she had some school research she needed to do. Plus, Jesse had said they were studying libraries at school and he was supposed to write three sentences on his favorite library, which is why he needed to go. So they would ride the subway together, to the central branch of the Boston Public Library, then maybe have dinner at the food court in the Pru Center. A big night out, said his mom.

She’d looked happy about that. A little excited, planning their evening adventure, and that had made Jesse feel bad ’cause he was lying. But he wasn’t lying too much. He really would write three sentences and they could go to dinner in the mall, but first he really, really, really needed to meet Pink Poodle and learn how to hit a curveball.

At 3:55, he put on his big fat winter coat, then a fresh pair of dry socks, then his boots, his hat and gloves. By 3:59 he was standing next to the door, poofed out three times his natural size, clutching Zombie Bear, and ready to go.

Except his mother hadn’t gotten off the phone.

She was talking and talking and talking (“Just a minute, Jesse!” “Jesse, shhh!” “Interrupt me one more time, young man, and no library!”)

Jesse was now too hot. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and he hopped from foot to foot because he had to pee, but he didn’t want to get unbundled, because his mother might hang up the phone any second, then it would be time to leave, and they needed to go.

He walked little circles in front of the door, spent time jumping over the piles of shoes. Jump, jump, jump, the world’s smallest obstacle course.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon!

Then, when he thought he couldn’t take it a second more, his mother appeared in the hallway.

“Jesse? Ready to go?”

“Ahhhhh!” he nearly screamed, then bolted for the bathroom before his bladder burst.

When he returned, still overheated, but slightly less crazed, his mother was just finishing buttoning up her coat. Without another word, he followed her down the three flights of stairs into the cold.

Jesse liked the city at night. He liked the lights everywhere, different colors and shapes that bounced off the low-hanging clouds and made the city look like a fun house. He especially liked a night like this one, when the snow was drifting down in big fat flakes, that you could catch on your tongue and feel melt into droplets of rust-flavored water.

Jesse’s mother walked briskly toward the subway stop three blocks away. Jesse darted around her, pretending he was a frost monster, powered by snow, running at the icy flakes, snapping at them with his mouth until his mother told him sharply, to stop it before he hurt himself.

Then he trotted along beside her, subdued but still happy, because they were finally going to the library and the city was all lit up and there were people everywhere, and surely that meant Pink Poodle would still be hunched over a computer in the Boston Public Library, because it was that kind of night. Cold and busy and bustling.

Zombie Bear’s bandaged head poked out of his pocket, the undead homerun hitter along for the ride.

It took forever to finally reach the main branch of the Boston Public Library, on Boylston Street. Technically it was two buildings; the historic McKim Building and the newer Johnson Building. Jesse loved the 160-year-old McKim Building, with its massive stone arches and ornate carvings and the kind of long, shadowed halls that hinted of ghosts and gargoyles. The McKim had mostly the research stuff, however—government documents, historic papers. Jesse and his mom headed for the Johnson Building instead. It was built in the seventies and, according to his mom, looked it. Jesse didn’t much care for the outside, but the inside was pretty cool. It had a special kids’ area, even a teen room.

Maybe he would need to visit the teen room. Maybe, that’s where Pinky Poo hung out. Jesse hadn’t thought of that.

He fingered Zombie Bear. Told himself he wasn’t nervous. Grabbed his mom’s hand and trotted up the steps.

In the lobby, his mother laid out the plan. She had some nursing homework to do. She walked him to the section she needed, showed him exactly where she would be. He was allowed to go to the kids’ section. He could pick some books, then he was to return right here, where he could look at his books while she finished her project. He could write up his homework, too. Then, they’d go to dinner.

Jesse nodded solemnly. They had been coming to the library since he was a baby. He knew the drill.

He kissed his mom. Maybe hugged her harder than he usually did. Then he headed down the stairs to the first-floor children’s room.