Page 21 of Don't Cross Mo Ellery

She smiles again and adjusts the clipboard in her hands. “So, now that you’ve recovered from being attacked by the slobber monster, what can I help you with?”

“Right. Yes.” I suck in a fortifying breath. Here I go. Taking initiative. Protecting myself. “I have reason to believe that Alderman Carey came to my apartment earlier looking for me under the false impression that I was guilty of a crime, and I would like to clear everything up.”

Nailed it.

Tasha frowns. There is a very long silence in which I have ample time to regret everything I just said. “So... huh. Can you say that—”

“He was at my apartment. The alderman.”

She hesitates and then smiles. “Aldermen don’t really make house calls.”

“Not even for suspected crime stuff?”

“Especially not for that.” She smiles again and yeah, I’m still scared and confused, but maybe a little less. “Why don’t you give me some more context about your problem?”

I clear my throat. “Well, you see, I’m a crossing guard, and—”

“That’s so cool!” she interrupts.

It takes me a second to realize she’s talking to me. About crossing guarding. Being cool. “Isit?”

But it’s like she’s been waiting for someone to ask her this question her whole life. She beams at me. “Public service isincrediblycool. I mean, people like us, we’re the blood and guts of the city. WeareChicago. We’re the nuts and bolts, the joints and the joists. It’s like the city is a matrix of interlocking public service effort and artistry—just this week, for Manhole Cover Monday, I found a totally gorgeous historic manhole cover that no one knew about, and my Instagram notifications are off the charts.”

She takes a breath and waits for me to react.

“I... I can’t say I’ve heard of Manhole Cover Monday.”

Her warm brown eyes widen, and I want to sink into them forever. Is that weird? Yes. But also, I don’t care.

“Mo,” she says, and I blush harder, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, she pulls out a brochure with a giant manhole on the front. “You’ve got to join us. Hashtag Manhole Cover Monday. So much great stuff.”

Oh, okay. She’s not just a normal nerd, she’s ahugenerd.

And it is doing some seriously butterfly-shaped things to my stomach.

Oh my god, Mo,focus, I think. No way out but through. If I want to get this nightmare over with, I’ll have to do something other than flirt. I put the brochure in my pocket, thank her, and get back to business.

“So I was at work earlier today,” I say, “and a guy in a Kia full of poodles got really angry at me because he thought I made him drive into a pothole on purpose, but I was just trying to keep him from running over a kid. Andhesaid the alderman was going to come after me. He told me the alderman knew where I lived, and then right after that, someone...accessed... my apartment.”

She frowns. “Wait. Someone broke into your apartment?”

“Well, that part’s a bit hazy,” I say. “He didn’t come inside, he was more like, creeping around? Outside the door? Stalker-style?”

Am I babbling? I’m babbling. And suddenly I’m doubting everything. Including whether Roy was telling the truth. He does love drama.

“Okay,” she says, nodding gently. “It sounds like the guy with the poodles this morning definitely spooked you. But also, he was talking out of his ass. Merle’s been here all day with some folks from the Chamber of Commerce, but more importantly, he doesn’t go after citizens. He’s a good dude.”

I guess I’m glad the alderman isn’t after me. But that doesn’t explain who came to my apartment, or, if there wasn’t anyone there, why Roy would lie about it. My confusion must show on my face, because Tasha puts a hand on my shoulder.

“If you’re really worried, I can help you file a police report,” she offers.

“No,” I say quickly. “It’s okay. If you’re right about the alderman—”

“I am.”

“—then Poodle Dude is just being a bully.” Projecting his shit on me, like Reuben said. Okay, fine, maybe thatwasgood advice.

“I’ll keep an eye out for him, steer clear, that sort of thing.”