Page 101 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

“I think you’re right,” I said. “The poor bastard just wants to get laid.”

Edlund lifted his coffee cup. “To Vincent’s last hurrah.”

The four of us drank, and Gerri appeared out of nowhere with a coffeepot. “What’s the occasion?” she said, pouring refills.

“A friend of ours is moving upstate,” Kylie said. “We’re planning hisgoing-awayparty.”

At eleven a.m., Kylie and I drove to my apartment. “One thing,” I said as she pulled into an illegal space. “I know you’ve already decided that Megan Rollins is our shooter, and you’rehell-benton bringing her down.”

“That’s our job, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but she eviscerated you on the six o’clock news, so I think you may have a bit of a personal vendetta going.”

“Get to the point, Zach.”

“Theo has become a pawn in all this shit, Kylie. Don’t sacrifice that pawn to get to the queen.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kylie snapped. “After all you and I have been through together, why the hell would you even question my—”

“Theo may be my son,” I said.

Kylie is never at a loss for words. But this was a gut punch, and she just sat there stunned into silence.

“I had a summer romance with his mother nineteen years ago. I did the math. It’s not only possible; it’s likely.”

“Jesus, Zach. Does he know?”

“Cheryl knows. And now you. That’s as far as it goes until I get the DNA results back from the lab.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, trying to wrap her mind around it. “It’s starting to make sense now,” she said, opening her eyes. “I saw how you took to this kid, how... how you kind of, I don’t know, hovered over him. I know it’s our job to protect him, but you were like...”

“Paternal?” I said. She smiled. “Paternal-ish. I’m having trouble picturing you as a dad.”

“You and me both,” I said. “Now, let’s go upstairs and trick the kid who might be my son into helping us bring down a murderer.”

“There’s a thought you don’t often see when you’re shopping for Father’s Day cards,” she said.

Two cops were with Theo when we got upstairs. We had told him they were there to keep him safe, but that was only partly true. Theo was a loose cannon, and having a babysitter was the only way we could keep tabs on him.

“Did you collar Vincent Ackerman?” he asked as soon as the cops left.

“You know too much,” Kylie said.

“I was with Shane when he identified the guy from the photo you sent. Nice police work. Did you bring him in?”

“Not yet,” I said, “but we caught a break in the Hellman case, and we could use your help flushing out the perp. You game?”

“Are you kidding? You want me to help you catch the guy who killed Warren Hellman?”

“I didn’t saycatch. Kylie and I do the catching, but we could use your help smoking him out.”

“Hell, yeah. You see this shit on TV all the time. Once again, life imitates art. Tell me what you need. I’ll come up with the scene.”

“Not so fast, Tarantino,” Kylie said. “The script has already been written. All you have to do is play it out. You know that reporter who gave you her business card? We want you to give her a call.”

“I thought you told me youdidn’twant me to call her.”

“We didn’t want her to interview you on camera and plaster your face all over TV. This is different. We want you to call and tell her you went to the precinct to pick up your laptop, and you overheard Zach and me talking about the man who shot Hellman. You didn’t get a lot of details—just that he was a photographer, he shot some guy in Canada, and based on the things Mr. Sheffield told you, you think he’s the hit man who went by the name of Carol.”

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