Missing You(62)

“Are you home?”

It was Stagger. He didn’t sound pleased.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Stagger said.

It took less. Stagger must have made the call standing right outside her building. She didn’t greet him when he entered. He didn’t greet her back. He stormed in and said, “Guess who just called me.”

“Who?”

“Suggs.”

Kat said nothing.

“You went to Suggs, for crying out loud?”

It was funny. Last time she saw him, Kat had thought how much Stagger still looked like a little boy. Now she thought the opposite. He looked old. His hair was receding, growing flimsy and flyaway. His jowls sagged. There was a belly now, not a big one, but there was still the feeling of age and softness. His children, she knew, weren’t babies anymore. The trips to Disney were being slowly replaced with college visits. That, she realized, could have been her life. If she and Jeff had married, would she have joined the force? Would she right now be some aging soccer mom raising her family in some shiny-brick McMansion in Upper Montclair?

“How could you do that, Kat?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Stagger shook his head. “Look at me. Okay? Really look at me.” He came close and put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you really think I would hurt your father?”

She did as he asked and then replied, “I don’t know.”

Her words hit him like a slap across the face. “Are you serious?”

“You’re lying, Stagger. We both know it. You’re covering something up.”

“And so, what, you think I had something to do with your father’s murder?”

“I just know you’re lying. I know you’ve been lying for years.”

Stagger closed his eyes and took a step back. “You got anything to drink?”

She headed over to the bar and held up a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He nodded and said, “Neat.” She poured him a glass and figured what the hell, poured herself one too. They didn’t clink glasses. Stagger brought the glass quickly to his lips and took a deep gulp. She stared at him.

“What?” he said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink.”

“I guess we’re both full of surprises.”

“Or we don’t know each other very well.”

“That may be true,” he said. “Our relationship, as it were, was really based on your father. When he was gone, so was our connection. I mean, I’m your boss now, but it isn’t as though we communicate much.”

Stagger took another gulp. She took her first sip.

“Then again,” he went on, “when you form a bond in tragedy, when you have a history like ours . . .” He turned and gazed at her door as though it had just materialized. “I remember everything about that day. But the part I remember most was when you first opened that door. You had no idea I was about to destroy your world.”

He turned back toward her. “Can’t you just let this go?”

She took a deep sip. She didn’t bother answering.

“I haven’t lied to you,” Stagger said.

“Sure you have. You’ve been lying to me for eighteen years.”

“I’ve been doing what Henry would have wanted.”

“My father is dead,” Kat said. “He doesn’t get a say in this anymore.”

Another deep gulp. “It isn’t going to bring him back. And it isn’t going to change the facts. Cozone ordered the hit. Monte Leburne carried it out.”

“How were you onto Leburne so fast?”

“Because I already had an eye out for him.”

“Why?”

“I knew Cozone had killed your dad.”

“And Suggs and Rinsky missed it?”

He took another swig, emptying his glass. “They were like you.”

“How so?”

“They didn’t think Cozone would kill a cop.”

“But you thought differently.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

He poured himself another glass. “Because Cozone didn’t view your father as a cop.”

She made a face. “What did he view him as?”

“An employee.”

A hot flush hit her face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He just looked at her.

“Are you saying he was on the take?”

Stagger poured himself another. “More than that.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Stagger looked around the apartment as though for the first time. “Nice digs, by the way.” He tilted his head. “How many cops do you know can buy a place on the Upper West Side outright?”

“It’s small,” she said, hearing the defensiveness in her voice. “He got a deal from a guy he helped.”

Stagger smiled, but there was no joy in it.

“What are you trying to say here, Stagger?”

“Nothing. I’m trying to say nothing.”

“Why did you visit Leburne in prison?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know.”