NYPD Red 5 by James Patterson

Author:James Patterson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2018-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 41

I WENT STRAIGHT to Cheryl’s office. “Something came up,” I said.

“Judging by the hangdog look on your face, I’m guessing it’s something that’s going to screw up our dinner reservations at Paola’s.”

“Sorry. I have to cancel.”

“I’ve been looking forward to her carciofi alla giudea all day, so you better have a good reason for bailing on me.”

“Kylie and I are going to Thailand.”

She laughed. “No, seriously.”

“I’m not kidding. We’re leaving tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“The Silver Bullet bombings. All roads lead to Thailand.”

“Oh, Zach,” she said, picking up her cell. “What’s your flight number? At least I can follow you on FlightView.”

“Actually,” I said, knowing that there was no way to sugarcoat what I was about to say, “we’re not going commercial. We’re flying out of Teterboro on Princeton Wells’s corporate jet.”

“You, Kylie, and Wells?”

“I doubt if Wells is going to go to Thailand. Ever. I think he only flies into countries he knows he can fly out of.”

“So it’s just you and Kylie on a private plane.”

“And the crew,” I added lamely.

“Do you realize that as a city employee it’s against the law for you to accept—”

“I know, I know. It’s a long story. I don’t have time to give you the details. My flight leaves at seven thirty. I’ve got to go home and pack.” I put my arms around her. “I just came to say good-bye.”

“Not here,” she said, backing off. “Let’s go. I’ll help you pack.”

She grabbed her purse, and I followed her out of the office.

My apartment was a short cab ride away, but four thirty in the afternoon is not the best time for finding a taxi, so we snagged a ride uptown with a couple of uniforms. It was fast and cheap, but it’s impossible to have a personal conversation when you’re riding with two chatty cops in a squad car.

I waited till we got in the elevator. “Look, Cheryl, I know this sucks. I’m really sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, but Kylie and I are going to be flying God knows how many hours on this luxury airplane, and …”

“So, then, is this another one of your famous prophylactic apologies? Or are you just projecting that I’m jealous?”

“None of the above, but—” The elevator stopped on the tenth floor, and we got out.

“But what?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Zach, you’re a cop. Kylie is your partner. You spend sixty hours a week with her in the same office, the same car, on stakeouts together, eating meals together—it’s what you do. So what’s the difference if you do it on a private plane? What’s the difference if you do it eight thousand miles and eleven time zones away in an exotic country with gorgeous beaches, exciting nightlife, and luxurious hotels? Why would I be jealous? If I trust you here, I trust you there.”

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I could wade through the subtext, so I took the high road. I said nothing. I unlocked my door, and we entered the apartment.

As soon as we were inside, Cheryl grabbed me, pressed me against the wall, and kissed me hard.

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