Range T-shirt and navy sweats. I looked down at his feet clad in leather moccasins. He had rushed out of the house. He was practically in his pajamas. For him, going out in public in sweats was akin to being naked.
"You know I'm in for a long night," I said to him. I'd been through this before. The police would take their time processing the scene outside. "I haven't given my statement."
"Are you okay with that?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I just want them to do what they need to do. I don't need a homicide investigation going on all week. How would it look like if my parking lot had crime scene tape roping if off on Saturday?"
Buster took my hand and kissed it. I slid into his lap. "They're not going to leave the tape up forever. As soon as the coroner takes the body away, they'll be done. You'll have your lot back by the morning. Mid-morning the latest."
Vangie said, "They'd better. The sale is only three days away."
"And you don't need to stay here the whole night. There's nothing you can do. Who's the detective in charge?"
"Zorn," I said. I was surprised when Buster pulled a face. He clearly didn't like the man. "What?" I asked.
"Ms. Pellicano?" We were interrupted as Zorn and the other homicide detective came in from the back hall. Buster stood abruptly, nearly dumping me out of his lap. The police department was as fanatical as a gang about showing respect. A gang or a family of baboons.
Buster walked toward the pair, hand out. "Zorn. Peters," he said, with a nod to both. He rubbed his hands on his sweatpants. I hid a smile. Not being dressed in his detective drag, a suit and tie, was killing him.
"The ME pulled the driver's license. We've got an ID," Zorn said. "Frank Bascomb."
Peters and Zorn watched for a reaction. I didn't know the guy. I looked at Vangie who shrugged, and studied the book in her hand. I made a mental note to check my database.
The other detective said, "The address is in Milpitas. I' going over to his place." She said her goodbyes and left.
"What are you doing here?" Zorn asked Buster.
"This is my girlfriend's store."
Zorn smirked. "Your girlfriend? How cute."
A muscle in Buster's cheek twitched. Buster was always teased about being the youngest homicide detective. Like most bullying, he chose to ignore it.
I was more concerned when I saw Vangie's back stiffen. Zorn's voice dripped with condescension. She didn't care for cops much and any one who put down Buster was doubly bad in her book. I shook my head at her, hoping to avoid a scene.
"Ms. Pellicano," Zorn said smoothly. "Thank you for your cooperation."
Vangie said, "Do you really think the guy was poisoned?"
Zorn looked her over, taking in the nearly faded gang tattoo on her finger and her Dickies jeans and hooded sweatshirt and Doc Martens. We both could see he was making judgments about her. She thrust out her chest. Buster put an arm around Vangie.
"We will be investigating," Zorn said. "He has a nasty bump on his head, but it was probably just a bad burrito."
Vangie snapped, "Those are the best burritos in town. Mrs. Unites' kitchen is spotless." Vangie's loyalty was fierce. She loved our neighbor.
Buster gave her a fond look, and said, "I'm taking this one home. She's already given her statement."
Zorn shrugged. I smiled at him. That was Buster, thoughtful. He knew he was doing me a favor by making sure Vangie got home okay.
"I'll take you up on that," she said.
"I can stay until you finish using my kitchen," I said to Zorn.
"That would be great. Though as homicide, we're used to being out in the cold, aren't we, Healy?"
Buster smiled and walked Vangie out to his truck. I followed them and gave him a kiss. "I can swing back for you," he said.
"No sense in both of us losing a night's sleep."
I wasn't sure I meant that.
I waited until the CSI van came, and made more coffee for everyone, which they accepted gratefully. They brought in large lights that illuminated my parking lot and alley. Neighbors came out of
"You know I'm in for a long night," I said to him. I'd been through this before. The police would take their time processing the scene outside. "I haven't given my statement."
"Are you okay with that?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I just want them to do what they need to do. I don't need a homicide investigation going on all week. How would it look like if my parking lot had crime scene tape roping if off on Saturday?"
Buster took my hand and kissed it. I slid into his lap. "They're not going to leave the tape up forever. As soon as the coroner takes the body away, they'll be done. You'll have your lot back by the morning. Mid-morning the latest."
Vangie said, "They'd better. The sale is only three days away."
"And you don't need to stay here the whole night. There's nothing you can do. Who's the detective in charge?"
"Zorn," I said. I was surprised when Buster pulled a face. He clearly didn't like the man. "What?" I asked.
"Ms. Pellicano?" We were interrupted as Zorn and the other homicide detective came in from the back hall. Buster stood abruptly, nearly dumping me out of his lap. The police department was as fanatical as a gang about showing respect. A gang or a family of baboons.
Buster walked toward the pair, hand out. "Zorn. Peters," he said, with a nod to both. He rubbed his hands on his sweatpants. I hid a smile. Not being dressed in his detective drag, a suit and tie, was killing him.
"The ME pulled the driver's license. We've got an ID," Zorn said. "Frank Bascomb."
Peters and Zorn watched for a reaction. I didn't know the guy. I looked at Vangie who shrugged, and studied the book in her hand. I made a mental note to check my database.
The other detective said, "The address is in Milpitas. I' going over to his place." She said her goodbyes and left.
"What are you doing here?" Zorn asked Buster.
"This is my girlfriend's store."
Zorn smirked. "Your girlfriend? How cute."
A muscle in Buster's cheek twitched. Buster was always teased about being the youngest homicide detective. Like most bullying, he chose to ignore it.
I was more concerned when I saw Vangie's back stiffen. Zorn's voice dripped with condescension. She didn't care for cops much and any one who put down Buster was doubly bad in her book. I shook my head at her, hoping to avoid a scene.
"Ms. Pellicano," Zorn said smoothly. "Thank you for your cooperation."
Vangie said, "Do you really think the guy was poisoned?"
Zorn looked her over, taking in the nearly faded gang tattoo on her finger and her Dickies jeans and hooded sweatshirt and Doc Martens. We both could see he was making judgments about her. She thrust out her chest. Buster put an arm around Vangie.
"We will be investigating," Zorn said. "He has a nasty bump on his head, but it was probably just a bad burrito."
Vangie snapped, "Those are the best burritos in town. Mrs. Unites' kitchen is spotless." Vangie's loyalty was fierce. She loved our neighbor.
Buster gave her a fond look, and said, "I'm taking this one home. She's already given her statement."
Zorn shrugged. I smiled at him. That was Buster, thoughtful. He knew he was doing me a favor by making sure Vangie got home okay.
"I'll take you up on that," she said.
"I can stay until you finish using my kitchen," I said to Zorn.
"That would be great. Though as homicide, we're used to being out in the cold, aren't we, Healy?"
Buster smiled and walked Vangie out to his truck. I followed them and gave him a kiss. "I can swing back for you," he said.
"No sense in both of us losing a night's sleep."
I wasn't sure I meant that.
I waited until the CSI van came, and made more coffee for everyone, which they accepted gratefully. They brought in large lights that illuminated my parking lot and alley. Neighbors came out of
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