The Children's Corner

Chapter 9

"How did it go?" Kate asks as Rick unloads his messenger bag onto his desk.

"Not too badly, all things considered. Wentworth, he's the one who writes those flag-waving America-to-the-rescue combat novels, didn't like the idea. He's only forty but acts like he grew up in the '50s. And two of the other authors were afraid of pissing off some of those organizations that smack labels on the front of children's books – particularly with our first offering. But most of the group came down on my side, more or less."

"That Black Pawn sells more of your books than any of those other authors' works couldn't have hurt."

"No, it didn't. But I think other numbers were the deciding factor. I hold the most shares in Black Pawn. If I run off with my piece of the pie, I'd be driving my stake through the organization's heart. Wait! That's a mixed metaphor!"

Kate strokes Rick's arm. "Doesn't matter, Babe. Let's just say you walked in with the biggest club." She flutters her lashes. "I've never had any complaints."

Rick wraps his arms around his wife, pulling her against the rising heat of his body. "How long have the twins been asleep?"

"I just got them down 15 minutes ago. So they should be out for a while."

"And where's Cindy?"

"Folklore seminar. She won't be back for an hour."

"Which is about as long as we have until I need to go pick up Lily."

Kate grabs handfuls of Rick's well-muscled behind. "So, how can we fill the time?"

Rick's breath warms Kate's lips. "I have some ideas."

Hand in hand, they walk the few short steps to the bedroom. He nuzzles her neck. "Afternoon delight. We're out of practice."

Kate lowers herself to the bed's puffy comforter and holds out her arms. "Some things are like riding a bike. You don't forget."

Supporting his weight on his arms, Rick holds himself a kiss-length above her. "And we can always make new memories."

Their lips meet with a touch of sweetness that blazes into passion. Then, like a man at a sumptuous buffet, Rick samples the tender skin of Kate's neck before stripping away nursing garments to mark a trail between her breasts and down her tightening belly. She arches, thrusting her fingers into his hair as his lips find their mark. At the edge of Kate's awareness, her mind sends out a warning: don't wake the twins. She swallows the scream trying to claw its way from her throat as ripples of release become a tsunami.

Kate's husky whisper rises from deep within. "This was supposed to be for you." She grabs at the zipper of the slacks and frees him from his prison. "Your turn." Her tongue tastes the pearlescent drop already at the tip of his desperate need. Then, stroking and laving, she takes him in.

"Kate!"

Reaching upwards, she covers his mouth with her hand. She won't, she can't, risk his voice summoning the boys from their slumber. She can feel the familiar signs that tell her he's close to his climax and pulls back, circling him with her other hand as the eruption comes. Collapsing, her head against his thigh, she lifts her palm from his lips.

Rick strokes Kate's hair, now damp with the sweat of their intimate exertions. His glance flicks to the still silent baby monitor. "I think this may be one of the few times I haven't minded when you shut me up."

Contentment sighs from Kate's chest. "I'll mark my calendar."

"Are those your notes from your internships with Osnitz?" Dana asks as Alexis leafs through a notebook.

"Some of them. I was looking at the paperwork I need to submit before I graduate. Even with all the time that I spent in the C.S.U. lab, I still have to go through the interview to qualify as a criminalist. My experience can push me up a couple of levels, so I need to have everything I learned at my fingertips."

"I can't see Osnitz not accepting you. You've been his protégé for years. You even designed some of the procedures the lab uses."

"Osnitz wants me. He's the one that sent me the paperwork. But he's a city employee. He has to abide by the rules. And to work for him, so do I. I've already had a background check and polygraph test. Still, they'll probably rerun those. And I'll need a new physical too. But I just had my yearly checkup at the student health center. I'm fine. The big deal is the interview. That will be in front of a panel, and the members can ask me anything. I'll need to be ready to answer."

Dana eyes the stack of notebooks in a crate next to the apartment's small desk. "Can I help?"

Alexis stretches up for a quick kiss. "You can quiz me. You probably know forensics as well as anyone on that panel, Osnitz included."

Dana shrugs. "I wouldn't go that far. I've followed his work. He's put out some very insightful papers. But I'll do the best I can."

"Which will be amazing. Oh, and I almost forgot."

"As if you ever forget anything," Dana teases. "What?"

"Dad and Kate invited us to dinner this weekend. Dad said that with Cindy there, he's had more time to return to his culinary creations. I think he wants to try something out on us."

"Should I be afraid?" Dana wonders.

"He promised me he wouldn't be putting marshmallows in anything except dessert. So I think we're OK."

"What do you think, Partner?" Ryan queries Esposito as they stare down at a body on a pier near the East River.

"I think Perlmutter is late," Esposito grumbles. "We can't even touch the victim until he gets here."

"Yeah, it's not like him. He's usually going full steam by the time we arrive at a scene."

The M.E.'s van screeches to a halt at the entrance to the dock, and Perlmutter puffs his way to the taped-off area around the victim. "Nice that you could make it," Esposito echoes the sarcastic greeting he's often received from the grumpy M.E.

"The morgue's backed up to the ceiling," Perlmutter complains. "A new designer drug hit the streets. The damn stuff makes fentanyl and oxycodone look harmless."

"O.D.'s?" Ryan asks.

Perlmutter grits his teeth. "Yes, but not just from taking too much. The high disappears, but the body doesn't flush out the metabolites. They build up and destroy the liver. And even a transplant won't help. The other organs are damaged as well, so the victims wouldn't be viable candidates. Every homicide cop in the city should be after whoever is putting that poison out there. Those pushers are mass murderers."

"No drug killed this guy," Esposito declares. "He's got a hole in his chest."

Grunting, Perlmutter crouches next to the body. After a brief look, he shakes his head and points to the man's open eyes. "If not for the bullet, he would probably have been dead soon anyway. See the yellow? That's an indication of liver failure. I won't know until I get him back to the lab, but your victim appears to have ingested the newest street killer."

"Any I.D. on him?" Esposito asks.

Perlmutter gingerly reaches for the wallet-sized bulge in the corpse's pocket. "His driver's license says he's Jebediah MacIver."

"I've heard that name," Ryan realizes. "Jenny had some clothes she bought for the store shipped in by his company, Jebediah MacIver Imports. From what she said, it's kind of a big deal. It brings in designer stuff from fashion centers all over the world. The company carries massive insurance against damage or loss."

Esposito regards the late MacIver. "While he was at it, I hope he bought life insurance."