Page 69 of Lion & Lamb

Okay, he definitely sees me. I’m turning around now.

Chapter71

AS COOPERLamb drove home, he expected that any minute he’d be pulled over, arrested, and possibly shot. His name would be added to the hundreds of murder victims in Philadelphia every year, because when it came down to it, what was one more?

None of those things happened.

Cooper obsessively checked his rear- and side-view mirrors, looking for any hint of a police vehicle, marked or otherwise. No such hint appeared, which worried him even more. What if Bernstein had someoneelsecoming for him? Some shadowy player from the underworld—someone who Cooper wouldn’t hear coming until it was far too late?

But he made the short drive back to his brownstone at Twentieth and Green without incident. He even successfully parallel-parked. (Again, without anyone around to appreciate it.)

Cooper went upstairs to take a shower. This was where he did his best thinking, and he had a lot to think over. He undressed, stuffed his clothes in the hamper, knelt down, and pulled out the Browning Black Label 1911-380 clipped to the underside of his bed. He carried the weapon into the bathroom, twisted on the shower water, and adjusted the temperature to just shy of scalding. Cooper needed to shake the chill from his bones and the adrenaline from his muscles. The Browning was just in case someone broke in and tried to kill him while he relaxed.

Only twice before had he felt compelled to bring a firearm into the bathroom, and both times he’d debated the best place for the weapon. Top of the toilet tank? No, because then it became a race between himself and an intruder. Resting on the water pipe? Too precarious, and Cooper couldn’t stand the idea of the inevitablePhiladelphia Daily Newsheadline: “Private Eye Shoots Self in Shower.” (Does it hurt, getting shot right in yer shower? Ha-ha-ha-ha.)

Cooper tucked his Browning into his mesh shower caddy, which he’d purchased mainly as a place to keep his gun. The fact that it also held soap and shampoo was a bonus.

But now it was time to sort out the facts. Maya and Mickey. Rain and Bernstein. How did that happen? And what did it mean? Bernstein worked for the Sables. Had Bernstein and Maya met at some Eagles event where all the members of the Hughes family (and, of course, the nanny) were present? That would be the innocent answer. But there was nothing innocent about this situation.

So most likely the murder had brought them together…but the murder had just happened on Sunday. Bernstein and Maya looked like they’d known each other a lot longer than a few days.

Cooper lowered his head, allowing the scalding water to pummel his neck and shoulders. He needed sleep. But the Maya Rain situation felt like a thorn in his brain; he couldn’t properly relax until he plucked it out of his gray matter.

Fortunately, Cooper didn’t have to leave his brownstone to pick up the kids; they had a half day at school, and his ex was picking them up early to catch an afternoon matinee. “You’re not the only fun parent,” his ex had said. Cooper wanted to tell her not to worry about that. He was the opposite of fun right now.

The detective spent the rest of the day brooding. Lupe followed his master’s lead and seemed extra-contemplative as well. Cooper set up camp on the sofa, which gave him views of both his front door and the window overlooking Green Street. Lupe perched next to him, head on Cooper’s lap.

At some point Cooper must have fallen asleep, because Lupe’s sharp series of barks jolted him awake. His hand grabbed the Browning tucked between two cushions, and his brain tried to fix on a target—the door or the window?

But nothing was happening inside or out of the brownstone. The sun had set a while ago, and the neighborhood was dark…

Except for the flashing lights that danced across the window.

Cooper crouched down low, listened, then peered outside. A white Bronco was crawling down Green, flashing its headlights, followed by the piercing, repeating electronic chirp of a portable siren. The driver gunned it down the block.

“Hello, Detective Bernstein,” Cooper mumbled. “What brings you out this evening?”

Clearly Bernstein wanted to send a message. But was it just a warning or a prelude to something else? Maybe it was a distraction to keep Cooper’s eyes on the street while someone came through his front door.

“Lupe,” he whispered. “Eyes sharp.”

Lupe gave a quiet, low growl in response. He was on the case.

The second drive-by happened a few minutes later, and Cooper tensed up all over again. But the third, a minute later, with a constant flutter of electronic chirps, just annoyed him. If Bernstein was going to do something, he should just do it already.

On the fourth drive-by, which was a full half hour later, Cooper realized this was the point. To keep him on edge, to let him know he’d crossed a line.

Friday, January 28

Chapter72

2:11 a.m.

“VICTOR? GOOD,you’re up.”

“What’s up, boss?”

Cooper wasn’t surprised Victor Suarez was awake in the middle of the night. A true surprise would have been finding Victor asleep or—even more shocking—out somewhere enjoying himself.

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