Page 15 of Lime Gelatin and Other Monsters
“No. That’s you.”
Kyle glanced at him sideways while he grabbed his jacket. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the mud expert.”
“I think I liked you better when you didn’t say anything,” Kyle muttered. It was a huge lie, of course. Vikash’s sense of humor was a little strange, sometimes, but he had one, more than Kyle could say of several previous partners. If Kyle were being honest, he’d have to admit that he liked the strange part, too.
While they did have an assigned patrol route, it was a tactical division of the city rather than a mandatory daily routine. Today, instead of taking their route closer to city hall, Kyle headed south. There were people in the old neighborhoods he could talk to, people who could keep an eye out.
He maneuvered them through the stop-and-go traffic on South Street and turned on Ninth to head down to the Italian Market. Another precinct cruiser sat in front of Giordano’s. He didn’t even need the number on the car to know whose it was.
“Damn. Virago’s here,” Kyle grumbled.
Vikash gave a hint of a shrug. “Maybe they’ve seen something.”
“Just keep him away from me. I don’t want the produce bins going up in flames.”
Kyle found a mostly legal parking space a little too close to the corner and spotted Jeff Gatling talking to one of the flower sellers a few yards down the street. The market was in full Saturday afternoon swing, all the regular shops and outdoor vendors hustling to keep up with customers. Vikash scanned the crowd while Kyle leaned against a support post, waiting for Jeff to finish.
“Hey.” Jeff raised a hand and ambled toward him. “You’re out of your jurisdiction, Monroe.”
“Hilarious. Just came over to ask a couple contacts about our suspicious person from this morning. Everything all right?”
Jeff lifted his hat to scratch his head. “Just checking on some complaints that were funneled down to us from the districts. Mrs. Morelli says she saw our jacket.”
“You mean the kind with the leather sleeves? The guy we’re looking for?”
“No, the floating leather jacket dude we have in lockup. Apparently, he’s been quite the shoplifter.”
“Huh.” Not what Kyle had wanted to hear, but he had to wonder how long the animated jacket had been on his little crime spree.
A few feet away, Mrs. Morelli obviously overheard them, even though she claimed she was mostly deaf when it suited her. “That damn jacket stole good silver vases. Three of them! What a jacket wants with vases, I couldn’t tell you. Does he want to give them to his peacoat girlfriend? You gonna do something about that menace, officer?”
“We’re doing the best we can, ma’am,” Jeff answered patiently. He looked like he had more to say but Mrs. Morelli cut him off.
“Is that Kyle? Little Kyle Monroe?”
Kyle glared at Vikash when he snickered. “It’s me, Mrs. Morelli. I was wond—”
Mrs. Morelli put a hand on one bony hip. “So why don’t you ever come by? You too good for us now?”
“No, ma’am. Just don’t have a lot of time with the job and—”
“Job, he says. Ha! Danny McCord’s a cop, too. He comes to see us.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll try to do better.” Kyle realized he’d taken off his uniform hat and was twisting it in his hands. Old habits just refused to curl up and die sometimes. “I was wondering if you’ve seen a different jacket around. One actually being worn by someone. An Eagles jacket—”
“Sweetie, I see a hundred Eagles jackets any given weekend. Whatkindof Eagles jacket?”
I was getting to that. “A varsity jacket. Letterman. Whatever you want to call—”
“The green ones with the white sleeves? Those are ugly.”
Kyle forced his smile to stay put. It was threatening to slide off into the carnations.One sentence. Please. Just let me finish one.“Not the green ones. This one’s black with tan—”
“Like that one there.” Mrs. Morelli pointed with her chin across League Street where a man wearing the type of jacket in question was just leaving Carl’s Farm Eggs. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his head down.
Vikash had started in his direction when a woman in heels burst through the same door, yelling, “Hey! Asshole! Gimme back my phone! That dickwad took my phone!”
