Page 43 of Crow
CHAPTER8
A gentle breezerustled the emerging tree leaves as birds flitted from branch to branch, chirping. Tulips and daffodils were in bloom, and flowering crab trees lining both sides of Main Street gave a burst of color to the downtown area.
As Angie crossed the parking lot, sunlight dappled through the thin veil of foliage from the maple trees, warming her face and arms. The blizzard from a few weeks ago was now only a distant memory.
“Wait up,” Joey called out.
She stopped and turned around and saw him running toward her. “What’s up?” she asked, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.
“I’m going with you,” he sputtered as he tried to catch his breath.
“Why?” she asked when he reached her. “It’s a routine check to see if that idiot landlord has done anything to fix up the building.”
“And a homeless guy was found murdered in one of the stairwells.”
A thread of sadness wove through her. “I still can’t believe it—poor guy. The police have finished with the crime scene, and the residents are flipped out. I can’t say I blame them. I want to see if Copeland has fixed the security doors and the lights and cameras.”
“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go alone. Anyway, I need to talk to one of the residents.”
“Okay, did you want to drive with me or take your own car?”
“I’ll go with you.”
As they walked toward her car, she wondered if she’d bump into Crow at the building. It’d been over a week since running into him at High Dive, and she found herself looking around for him whenever she went out. As crazy as it was, Angie missed seeing him. For those few weeks, he was everywhere, and now he was nowhere.
“Are you okay?” Joey asked as he slid into the passenger seat. “You’re pretty quiet.”
“I’m fine. I was just zoning out, I guess.”
“I heard you talking to someone on the phone about the shadow man. Did one of the tenants see someone the night that guy was killed?”
“It seems like a few of them did. They’re terrified to tell the police.”
“If you talk with them today, I’d like to be in on that conversation.”
Angie glanced over at him, and noticed the slight bags under his eyes and hard lines on his lean, lightly-tanned face that she hadn’t observed before. Joey looked so tense, so worried.
“Sure. Have you been burning the midnight oil trying to catch up on your caseload?”
“Not really, have you?”
“Yes. I’m one of those people who has to have everything cleared up. I can’t stand dishes in the sink, loads of unwashed laundry, lingering home-repair issues,blah, blah, blah.The list is endless.” She laughed.
“I’m somewhere in-between that, at least with work. I can have a few cases in the background, but I do like to clear them out. In my personal life . . . well, let’s just say it’s way less orderly.”
“I sometimes wish I were. You know those career assessment tests you take in college? Well, I took a few of them, and each time, they came up with the military being my perfect career path.” She turned to him and smiled. “Need I say more?”
“I did notice you’re very organized at work. I think you’re the only one of the investigators who has color-coded files for everything, and your daily planner looks like a piece of modern art. So, I can see where you’d test for a military career.”
“What did your assessment tests show?”
Shifting his eyes away from her, he stared out the window. “I don’t remember. That was a long time ago.”
“You make it sound like we’re ancient. You’re only two years older than I am, right?”
“I’m thirty-one.”
“Okay—three years older.”
