Free Rizzo’s Fire by Lou Manfredo

got an appointment with him then.” Rizzo peered at Priscilla’s mouth. “You got any dental issues? Maybe we can get you a free cleaning or something.”
    She stood up. “I’ll pass, Joe. Tell you what, I have to fill out the union forms so they can switch me over from the PBA. I need to get them to the delegate’s in-box today. So how far is it to this guy’s office?”
    “Ten minutes. You got plenty of time. I’ll be waitin’ here.”
    JUST BEFORE five, Rizzo at the wheel, the two detectives drove toward the dental office of Dr. William Davenport.
    “So how’s the redecorating project going?” Rizzo asked.
    “Okay, I guess. Don’t ask what it’s gonna cost. Me and Karen coulda done the whole deal, painted all four rooms in a couple of days. For two, three hundred bucks.”
    “Yeah, well, I’d be happy I was you,” Rizzo said. “Get the in-laws to pick up the tab, avoid all that aggravation and mess. You oughta count your blessings.”
    “Yeah, I know. And they can afford it, that’s for sure. But this is just an apartment, not a condo. Lot a money to spend on something we don’t own.”
    Rizzo slowed for a light and glanced over at his partner.
    “What kinda building?” he asked.
    “Nice old brownstone. On East Thirty-ninth off Third Avenue. We’re up on the second floor with one other tenant.”
    Rizzo nodded, watching the traffic light. “Sounds nice. But like I tell my kids, rent is money down the drain. You gotta own something, build up the equity. The old Italians around here, the old-timers from the other side, you give ’em a choice between twenty thousand shares of some stock and a quarter acre of land, they’ll go with the land every time.”
    “Depending on the stock, real estate might be the way to go,” Priscilla said. “But right now I’m not looking to buy. Karen will never leave Manhattan, she’s too into it. And anything in the city is way out of my league, dollar-wise.”
    “Yeah, okay,” Rizzo said. “But Karen’s a high-priced lawyer making big bucks. Proportion it out and buy something soon. You won’t regret it.”
    After a moment or two of silence, Priscilla replied. “I’d rather wait. We’ll do one-year leases, then see,” she said.
    Rizzo grunted and eased the car forward as the light changed.
    “Sounds like cold feet to me,” he said. “You lookin’ to keep the door half open, are you?”
    She shook her head. “No. Not really. But there’s no hurry with anything. We can chill for a while.”
    “Okay, Partner,” Rizzo said. “But remember this, somethin’ else I tell my girls. You buy together, better odds you stay together. Financial ties have saved more marriages than Dear Abby.”
    “I think Dear Abby is dead, Joe,” Priscilla said.
    “Well, then, Dear Whoever-the-fuck. You get my point. You tangle up your finances, it’s more of a commitment. So if Karen burns the toast once too often, you can’t just say, ‘Fuck off, Sweetheart,’ and head for the door. It’s like insurance, Cil. Believe me.”
    “Well, Karen and I aren’t married.”
    Rizzo shrugged. “Civil-unioned, married, what ever. Same shit.”
    Priscilla shook her head. “We ain’t anything yet. Just together, that’s all. I get my medical and pension through the job, she gets hers through the law firm. Don’t be gettin’ me overcommitted here.”
    Rizzo glanced at her as he wove through the traffic on Twenty-fourth Avenue.
    “Didn’t you recently tell me you were done trollin’ around? When that redheaded nurse was droolin’ over you?”
    “Sure,” she said with a small smile. “But you never know. That’s all I’m saying—you never know.”
    “I get it, Cil. So, you’re the guy in this couple, eh?”
    “Yeah, right,” she said. “Let me explain somethin’; there ain’t no guy. That’s sorta the point, Joe. We’re both female. Don’t be stereotyping my situation to fit your fantasies. Didn’t Mike warn you about me, Partner?”
    “You bet. He