Missing You(61)

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“Take some more painkillers or something. Here, I brought you a couple of cupcakes.” She had stopped at Magnolia Bakery on the way from the Central Park Precinct. She handed him the bag. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Shoot,” Brandon said.

“They caught the man who assaulted you. That’s where I was. At the precinct.”

“Who is he?”

“That’s the favor part. He’s a friend of mine. He thought he was protecting me. I need you to drop the charges.”

She explained, trying to be as vague as humanly possible.

“I’m still not sure I understand,” Brandon said.

“Then do it for me, okay? As a favor.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“I also think it’s time we let this go, Brandon. What do you think?”

Brandon pulled a cupcake apart and slowly ate half. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“On TV, they always talk about cop intuition or playing a hunch.”

“Right.”

“Do you ever do that?”

“All cops do. Hell, all people do. But when the hunch flies in the face of the facts, it more often than not leads to mistakes.”

“And you think my hunch flies in the face of the facts?”

She thought about that. “No, not really. But it doesn’t match up with the facts, either.”

Brandon smiled and took another bite. “If it matched up with the facts, it wouldn’t be a hunch, would it?”

“Good point. But I still go with the Sherlock Holmes axiom.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m paraphrasing, but basically Sherlock warned that you should never theorize before you have the facts because then you twist the facts to suit the theory instead of twisting the theory to suit the facts.”

Brandon nodded. “I like that.”

“But?”

“But I’m still not buying it.”

“What about all that talk about not ruining it for your mom?”

“I won’t. If this is true love, I’ll let it be.”

“It’s not your place to say what kind of love it may be,” Kat said. “Your mom is allowed to make her own mistakes, you know. She’s allowed to get her heart broken by him.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah,” Kat said. “Like me. He was my demon lover. I need to leave him in my past.”

“Demon lover?”

She smiled and grabbed a carrot cupcake with cream cheese icing and walnuts. “Never mind.”

? ? ?

It felt good to let it go. For about twenty minutes. Then Kat got two calls.

The first was from Stacy. “I have a lead on Jeff Raynes aka Ron Kochman,” she said.

Too late. Kat didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter anymore. “What?”

“Jeff didn’t change his name legally.”

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely. I even called all fifty state offices. It’s a fake ID. Well done. Professional. A complete makeover. I even wonder if he was put into Witness Protection or something.”

“Could that be it? Witness Protection, I mean.”

“Doubtful. Guys in WP shouldn’t be advertising themselves on dating services, but it’s a possibility. I’m checking with a source. What I can tell you without question is that Jeff didn’t change his name legally nor does he really want to be found. No credit cards, no bank accounts, no residence.”

“He’s working as a journalist,” Kat said. “He has to be paying taxes.”

“That’s what I’m following up on now—my source with the IRS. I hope to get an address soon. Unless.”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you want to call me off,” Stacy said.

Kat rubbed her eyes. “You were the one who told me that Jeff and I might have the fairy-tale ending.”

“I know, but do you ever really read fairy tales? Little Red Riding Hood? Hansel and Gretel? There’s a lot of bloodshed and hurt.”

“You think I should leave it alone, don’t you?”

“Hell, no,” Stacy said.

“But you just said—”

“Who cares what I just said? You can’t leave this alone, Kat. You’re not good with loose ends. And right now? Your fiancé is a major loose end. So screw it. Let’s figure out what the hell happened to him, so once and for all, you can move past this dickwad who was dumb enough to dump your shapely ass.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Kat said. Then: “You’re a good friend.”

“The best,” Stacy agreed.

“But you know what? Let it go.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

No, Kat thought. God, no. “Positive.”

“Look at you, being all Miss Brave and whatnot,” Stacy said. “Drinks tonight?”

“They’re on me,” Kat said.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Brandon had felt well enough to leave after the cupcake. So Kat was alone, getting undressed and turning on the shower—she had a full day of binge-TVing in bed planned—when the second call came in.