After the tension of the meeting, Avery was glad to find herself back behind the wheel of her car with Ramirez in the passenger seat. There was an odd bit of silence between them that made her uneasy. Had she really been so na?ve to think that sleeping together was not going to alter their working relationship?
Was it a mistake?
It was starting to feel like it. The fact that the sex had been pretty close to mind-blowing made it hard to accept, though.
"While we have a second," Ramirez said, "are we going to talk about last night?"
"We can," Avery said. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Well, at the risk of sounding like a stereotypical male, I was wondering if it was a one-time thing or if we were going to do it again."
"I don't know," Avery said.
"Regretting it already?" he asked.
"No," she said. "No regrets. It's just that in the moment, I wasn't thinking about how it would affect our working relationship."
"I figure it can't hurt it," Ramirez said. "All jokes aside, you and I have been dancing around this physical chemistry for months now. We finally did something about it, so the tension should be gone, right?"
"You'd think so," Avery said with a sly smile.
"It's not for you?"
She thought for a while and then shrugged. "I don't know. And quite frankly, I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it yet."
"Fair enough. We are sort of in the middle of what looks to be a majorly fucked up case."
"Yes, we are," she said. "Did you get the e-mail from the precinct? What else do we know about our witness other than his address?"
Ramirez looked to his phone and pulled up his e-mail. "Got it," he said. "Our witness is Donald Greer, eighty-one years of age. Retired. He lives in an apartment roughly half a mile away from the crime scene. He's a widower who worked for fifty-five years as a shipyard supervisor after getting two toes blown off in Vietnam."
"And how did he happen to see the killer?" Avery asked.
"That we don't know yet. But I guess it's our job to find out, right?"
"Right," she said.
Silence fell on them again. She felt the instinct to reach out and take his hand but thought better of it. It was best to keep things strictly professional. Maybe they would end up in bed together again and maybe things would even progress to more than that-to something more emotional and concrete.
But none of that mattered now. Now, they had a job to do and anything evolving within their personal lives would just have to be put on hold.
***
Donald Greer showed all eighty-one years of his age. His hair was a frazzled shock of white atop his head and his teeth were slightly discolored from age and improper care. Still, he was clearly glad to have company as he invited Avery and Ramirez into his home. When he smiled at them, it was so genuine and wide that the unsightly condition of his teeth seemed to disappear.
"Can I get you some coffee or tea?" he asked them as they came in.
"No, thank you," Avery said.
Somewhere else in the house, a dog barked. It was a smaller dog, and one with a bark that suggested it might be just about as old as Donald.
"So is this about that man I saw this morning?" Donald asked. He plopped himself down into an armchair in the living room.
"Yes, sir, it is," Avery said. "We were told that you saw a tall man that appeared to be hiding something under his-"
The dog that was located somewhere in the back of the apartment started to bark even more. Its yaps were loud and sort of grizzled.
"Shut it, Daisy!" Donald said. The dog went silent, giving a little whimper. Donald shook his head and gave a chuckle. "Daisy loves company," he said. "But she's getting old and tends to pee on people when she gets too excited, so I had to lock her up for your visit. I was out walking her this morning when I saw that man."
"How far do you walk her?" Avery asked.
"Oh, Daisy and I walk at least a mile and a half just about every morning. My ticker isn't as strong as it used to be. The doctor says I need to walk as much as possible. It's supposed to keep my joints in top order, too."
"I see," Avery said. "Do you take the same route every morning?"
"No. We switch it up from time to time. We have about five different routes we take."
"And where were you when you saw the man this morning?"
"Out on Kirkley. Me and Daisy had just come around the corner of Spring Street. That part of town is always empty in the mornings. A few work trucks here and there but that's about it. I think we've passed two or three people on Kirkley in the last month or so…and they were all walking their dogs. You don't even get any of those masochistic people that like to run out in this area."
It was obvious by the way he chatted that Donald Greer did not get many visitors. He was overly chatty and spoke very loudly. Avery wondered if it was because age had affected his hearing or if his ears were shot from listening to Daisy raise hell all day.
"And was this man coming or going?" Avery asked.
"Coming, I think. I'm not sure. He was a good ways ahead of me and he seemed to sort of stop for a second when I got on Kirkley. I think he knew I was there, behind him. He started walking again, sort of fast, and then just sort of disappeared into the fog. Maybe he took one of those side streets along Kirkley."
"Was he maybe walking a dog?" Ramirez asked.
"Nope. I would have known. Daisy goes ballistic when she sees another dog or even smells one in the area. But she stayed just as quiet as always."
"Do you have any idea what he might have been holding under that jacket you say he was wearing?"
"I couldn't see," Donald said. "I just saw him shifting something under it. But the fog this morning was just too thick."
"And what about the coat he was wearing?" Avery asked. "What kind was it?"
Before he could answer, they were interrupted by Ramirez's cell phone. He answered it and stepped away, speaking quietly into it.
"The coat," Donald said, "was like one of those long fancy sort of black coats that businessmen wear sometimes. The kinds that come down to their knees."
"Like an overcoat," Avery.
"Yeah," Donald said. "That's it."
Avery was running out of questions, feeling pretty certain that this interview with their only witness was a bust. She tried to find another relevant question as Ramirez stepped back into the room.
"I need to get going," Ramirez said. "Connelly wants me as an extra set of hands with some matter over near Boston College."
"That's fine," Avery said. "I think we're done here anyway." She turned to Donald and said, "Mr. Greer, thank you so much for your time."
Donald walked them out to the apartment building entrance and waved them off as they got into the car.
"You tagging along with me?" Ramirez asked when they were headed back down the street.
"No," she said. "I think I'm going to go back to the crime scene."
"Kirkley Street?" he said.
"Yeah. You can take the car to do whatever errand Connelly has you running. I'll catch a cab back to headquarters."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. It's not like I have anything else to-"
"To what?"
"Shit!"
"What is it?" Ramirez asked, concerned.
"Rose. I was supposed to hang out with Rose this afternoon. I made this huge deal about a girls' day out. And it looks like that's not going to happen. I'm going to have to let her down again."
"She'll understand," Ramirez said.
"No. No, she won't. I always do this to her."
Ramirez had no reply to that. The car remained in silence until they reached Kirkley Street. Ramirez pulled the car to the side of the street directly across from the morning's crime scene.
"Be careful," Ramirez said.
"I will," she said. She surprised herself when she leaned over and kissed him briefly on the mouth.
She then got out of the car and started studying the scene immediately. She was so focused and in the zone that she barely noticed when Ramirez pulled away behind her.
