Tracy Hayes, Apprentice PI

Chapter Twelve

Instead of a quick bite in one of the many eateries within walking distance of the agency, we got into Jackson's car. He chose directions apparently at random, going a couple of blocks one way and five blocks another and then turning again.

"Do you think we're being followed?" I asked when I finally figured out what he was doing.

"Better safe than sorry."

I only recognized where we were when he drove to Kensington, past the house where Suzy Collins lived. There wasn't a black BMW outside it, but I hadn't expected there to be. However, in the Jenkins' driveway there was a sporty Audi.

"I take it Mr. Jenkins is home," I noted.

"He'll be coming over tomorrow, so we'll have until then to figure out how to break the news to him." He looked like he wasn't looking forward to it either.

He drove to 18 Avenue, which denoted the southern end of Kensington, and pulled over in front of an Irish slash sports bar. As close to my parents' as it was, I'd never been there, but that wasn't a surprise. I'd seldom had a chance to eat out when I was a waitress.

It was a hole-in-the-wall eatery, long and fairly narrow, with cozy booths on the left and a long gleaming mahogany bar on the right, and even a small stage at the back. Sports were on the TV's hanging from the ceiling, and the portions were large enough to please truck drivers. At lunch time, though, the clientele looked to be cops from the 70th Precinct that was only two blocks from the bar. And since it was where Trevor worked, I wasn't surprised to find him there.

He was sharing a booth with Detective Blair Kelley, his partner since he'd started in homicide. She was in her early forties and the senior in their partnership, a tall and rather formidable looking woman with a dark skin and short-cropped hair. Her severe manners were a stark opposite to my fairly easygoing brother, but they had always got along well. I'd met her a couple of times and liked her too. Jackson knew her of old, so no introductions were needed when we took seats in their booth.

"I'm glad I ran into you," I said to Trevor after we'd received our food – fairly good but pretty greasy. "Have you kept any contact with Suzy Collins?"

He put a hand dramatically to his heart as if I'd stabbed him. "How can you mention her name?"

Since six years hadn't eased the pain of my husband's betrayal, I wasn't entirely sure he was funning, but I pressed on. "The reason I ask is that I want to know more about the guy she's currently dating."

That caught his interest, so I told him what had happened earlier and that I'd met the guy the previous evening. He frowned when I was finished.

"Why didn't you tell me about the man yesterday?"

"I didn't remember him. The events that followed kind of wiped him out of my mind."

He shook his head as a smile spread on his face. "You heard?" he asked Jackson.

"Yes. I'm heartbroken." He wiped an imaginary tear from his cheek.

Detective Kelley cocked a questioning brow at me, so I told her about the great revelation. She would hear it eventually anyway, as partners tended to share things. "No one was heartbroken when I came out," she said, amused. She had a nice, low voice that held a hint of command even in a casual conversation.

"That's because no one was surprised," my brother said rather unhandsomely, but his partner just rolled her eyes. He returned to our original topic. "You're saying Suzy might be dating a what, dog-napper?"

I shrugged. "Possibly. Or maybe he's in a more lucrative field of crime. The man drove a BMW X6." It wasn't exactly a cheap car. "And his accent was Jersey, as was Douglas's."