Page 22 of Don't Cross Mo Ellery

“You’re sure?” she asks, and... I actually am.

It’s a good feeling. The first in a while.Thisis what it feels like to handle something.

“Now that that’s settled,” she says, leaning so close I can see the freckles dotting her nose, “I cantotallyhelp you with the pothole situation. Potholes are, in fact, extremely my jam.”

I’ve fully described the pothole and clarified it’s actually now more of a sinkhole (it’s a hole where the street used to be, that’s about all I got), and Tasha’s just written down all my info when her desk phone rings. She whispers, “Sorry,” as she reaches for the phone and answers it. “Alderman Carey’s office, Tasha speaking.”

She listens for a moment and then makes a gesture like this is going to take a while. I’d love to stay, but I don’t want to make it weird, so I wave and head out. Hopefully there’ll be more to discuss about the sinkhole.

Or manhole covers.

Either way, I’d really like to see her again.

Just as friends, obviously.

Obviously.

Chapter 8

By the time I get home, I’m ready for Roy. And I’ve got a few questions of my own.

Taking initiative issucha rush. Who’s a badass? That’s right. It’s me.

His door swings open, and instead of being halfway up the next step like I usually am, I’m standing there with my arms crossed, Bad Cop style.

“Oh,” he says, looking past me nervously. “Something wrong with the apartment? I can’t get anybody out on a weekend, it costs extra.”

“It’s Wednesday, Roy, and that’s not what I want to talk about. That guy. The one you let up to my apartment?”

He screws up his face like he’s prepared to deny something. “Um...”

“What did he look like? I need you to describe him.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, sure,” he says. “I can describe him. The stripper.”

“Thewhat?”

“The stripper.”

“Roy,” I say, trying to stay calm. “Why did you think the man was a stripper?”

“He was very athletic,” Roy says approvingly.

Huh. Poodle Dude is athletic.

“And blond,” Roy adds.

Poodle Dude isalso blond!

Looking more and more like it wasn’t the alderman!

“And he was wearing a stripper outfit,” Roy continues. “That was the clincher.”

“What, like matching workout wear?” I ask, frantically trying to remember exactly what Poodle Dude was wearing last time I saw him. “With logos and stuff?”

“No, no.” Roy waves his hand, annoyed. “More like—a sexy doctor.”

My heart actually stops.