21st Birthday by Patterson, James (mystery books to read txt) 📗

steel band and occasional limbo contest, the tasty Caribbean food, and that everyone knew our names.

We try to meet here every couple of weeks for the laughter and camaraderie, and we also pool our mental resources and apply them to cases that refuse to crack.

Tonight, we were getting together because three weeks had passed since we’d last seen Claire.

A chill breeze blew down the empty street. I buttoned my jacket but I still felt cold.

Then I saw the lights coming from the café windows. If anything could warm me, it was Susie’s Café and a huddle with my best friends.

Maybe one of us would have a bright idea.

CHAPTER 11

AS I CLOSED IN ON Susie’s front door, a small crowd streamed out to the street. A gent held the door for me and, as always, the roar of laughter and the aroma of curry washed over me.

I stood for a moment inside the entrance, mapping out my path, then edged between the standing-room-only patrons banked at the bar and the clump of customers waiting for tables. I exchanged hellos with Susie and crossed to a corridor at the rear of the main room. This narrow passageway led past the kitchen, then emptied into the quieter, smaller, and cozier back room. No music, no bar back there, just Jamaican street art on the walls and a dozen tables and booths, including the one we thought of as ours.

Claire was at the far end of the banquette, the seat next to the window. Yuki sat across from her and both smiled hugely as I came up to the table. I slid in next to Claire and high-fived Yuki over the table.

“Cindy’s on the way,” she said.

I grabbed Claire’s hand.

She had been diagnosed with lung cancer and had undergone surgery that cost her half a lung. The surgery was successful, but there’d been no promises as to her life expectancy. That scared the hell out of me and everyone else who knew and loved Claire. Still on leave from her post as the city’s chief medical examiner, she was seeing her own doctor every three months for checkups until further notice.

Sitting next to her, I noticed how thin she’d become. She’d wanted to drop a couple of dress sizes for years, but cancer was no one’s idea of how to lose the weight.

Yuki had just come from her office at the DA and was wearing a sharp black jacket and pants, hair falling to just below her chin with a blond streak in front. She looked good, but sleep-deprived.

She leaned in and said, “Dr. Terk told Claire that she’s doing better than expected. That is to say, she’s doing great.”

Claire cracked a grin. “No secrets, right? I’m cleared to go back to work, although I had to swear on my daughter’s pet bunny I would not pull all-nighters.”

We all started laughing. Claire’s daughter Rosie’s rabbit was a big-eyed flop-eared thing named Hoppy who sleeps with Rosie on her pillow. Then Claire asked about the new commander of the Southern Station and the laughter stopped.

“Clapper’s kind of a brilliant choice, isn’t he?”

Yuki, who was married to Brady, said, “Hmmmm.”

Claire said, “Not so enthusiastic, Yuki-san. What is it?”

“Uh. Well, Brady is moody. Bad moody. Didn’t sleep last night. That’s odd for him. He likes Clapper a lot. It’s more like he’d almost decided he didn’t want the promotion to chief, but you know, he’s pissed that the mayor made the decision for him. Feels to him like a slight. Or a vote of no confidence.”

Before I could say that I’d already gotten a big fat demerit from Clapper, our favorite waitress, Lorraine, came to our table. Her red hair was pulled up in a knot; she had pencil and pad in hand.

She asked, “Is Cindy coming?”

Yuki said, “Any minute.”

On cue, Cindy blew into the back room.

She wore denim all the way and her curls were tight from the damp wind. Her big blue eyes were shining, and after she slid in next to Yuki, she said, “Sorry for making you wait. I was stuck behind an oil truck.”

Lorraine greeted her and recited the specials.

Claire asked for steak, black beans, and rice. Yuki ordered a crab salad, and Cindy said, “Conch, deep fried.”

“We’re out of conch,” said Lorraine.

“Chicken feet dredged in spicy flour.”

“So, by that you mean blackened snapper and fries.”

“Exactly!” said Cindy. “And a salad.”

“Me, too,” I said,

“Yuki. You need a margarita?”

“Just beer,” said our dear friend who had no tolerance for tequila at all.

“So that’s beer all around,” Lorraine said.

“Hear, hear,” I said.

Beer came. We lifted our frosty mugs and toasted as one.

“To Claire.”

“To us,” said Claire.

We clinked mugs.

Lorraine brought plates of food lined up and balanced on both of her forearms, and when dinner was on the table she asked if we needed anything else. We all said we were good. After taking long slugs of brew, Cindy leaned forward and said dramatically, “Well, girlfriends. I’ve got news.”

CHAPTER 12

“LET ME PUT a drum roll under that,” Cindy said. “I’ve got Burke news. But first, I’ve gotta eat something.”

We booed and hissed and Claire said, “You’re gonna pay for that.”

Cindy laughed, saying, “Seriously, I’m starving.”

As she doused her fries with hot sauce, I said, “I guess I’ll spill my own Burke news. I went to Sunset Park Prep today and had a chat with Lucas Burke.”

“Linds,” said Cindy. “You trying to scoop me?”

“I needed to get a fix on him,” I said. “Your friend Kathleen got to me. She hooked me good.” I told my friends about my impromptu meeting with Burke, how he claimed that he’d had a fight with Tara Monday morning and that she’d taken off with the baby in retaliation.

“Oh, and he said she’s off her meds. He offered to come down and file charges against her for kidnapping the baby, but when I took