Hooked

wall.
    Linc flipped open his badge case and introduced himself.
    “Sorry, I’m a mess. What’s this about?”
    “I’m looking for Tawny Dell.”
    Ambrosio let out a snort. “Ha. You and every man in New York.”
    “No, not that way.”
    “What way then?”
    “She’s, um, a friend.”
    “So it is that way. Jeez, even the cops.” He unleashed a giant grin. “She’s something, ain’t she?”
    Linc wanted to start over. “No, you don’t understand. We really are friends. I was supposed to meet her here, and she’s not home.”
    “Well, you couldn’t be much of a friend if you don’t know she’s out of here by nine on Tuesdays for her group. So you must be here on…business.”
    Huh? Group? What? Therapy, book club, yoga? “I’m friend enough to know she never does business here. Not that business.” Linc’s uneasiness must have shown, because Ambrosio grinned.
    “How about an espresso?” he asked.
    “No, thanks. I really need to find Tawny. She may be in danger.” That got through to him and the man turned serious. “It’s important,” Linc added.
    “She’s not in any trouble, is she? ’Cause I won’t say anything if I’ll get her in trouble.”
    “No trouble. Honest. Tell me where she is.”
    “She’s a docent at the Metropolitan a couple of hours a week.”
    “Docent?”
    “Don’t you cops know anything? It’s like a guide. No money to the job, but it’s kind of a neat thing, and you gotta be special to be selected. She has a doctorate in art history, ya know.”
    “Yeah, I know.” So that’s why she was there before meeting Cooper. “Hey, thanks. And don’t worry. She’s not in any trouble from me.”
    “Sure you don’t want a shot of caffeine to go? You might need it.”
    But Linc was halfway down the stairs at Ambrosio’s last word, making a beeline for his car, which was now blocked by a delivery van. He played the badass cop one more time, and the delivery driver moved to let him out. In a hurry.
    Wending his way through traffic, he chastised himself for thinking the worst of Tawny and wondered why he was so ready to put her in bed with a john. So ready not to believe in her after she said she’d given up the life. Was he overreacting concerning Tawny’s safety? She gave no indication anyone thought she was prying where she shouldn’t. But she really didn’t have time to tell him everything. Maybe someone was.
    Dirk Hansen’s murder had Linc uptight, and if Cindi Dyson met a similar fate, then someone connected to Upper Eighties would stop at nothing to keep things from unraveling. Didn’t they realize by bumping off those they perceived as threatening, they were inviting scrutiny of the very people they feared?
    Pulling into a rare spot in front of a quick shop near 82 nd , he crossed diagonally to the Fifth Avenue entrance of the museum. He asked at the information desk where he might find Tawny Dell without showing his badge. He didn’t want to do anything to expose her dark side.
    The woman referred to a guide. “Oh, you mean Dr. Dell? Let me check.” She flipped through what Linc figured was the day’s schedule. “Right through there,” she said, pointing to his left. “She’s almost finished with her tour, but you can listen in.”
    Linc lined up at the counter to get his entrance button and left a donation, then walked into another century, into another civilization. Tawny was speaking to a group of rapt listeners. She gazed up and saw him. Without missing a beat, she continued her explanation of the depiction on a Grecian urn. Linc stood in back and listened. So much for johns.

Chapter Twenty-Two
    Breakfast Interruptus

    A fter the kids left, Benny went back to bed. He’d suffered through another sleepless night, and after reading about Dirk Hansen this morning, he doubted tonight’s sleep would be much better. He managed to nod off, but visions of Hansen and lovely Cindi, her broken body suspended in space, jarred him awake. Were the cops on to Upper Eighties? Would they barge in, snap on the cuffs, and haul him away?
    Eileen brought a second cup of coffee to the bedroom, along with the newspaper, and left him to enjoy a morning in bed. She had no idea what was going on in his head, and he didn’t want to worry her by venting. No doubt she’d be back to cheer him out of his doldrums.
    He wanted to ignore his chiming cell since the only news lately had been bad. Damn, Colin. He rarely called, but when he did it was something Benny