NYPD Red

Chapter 39

There was a large coffee and a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts sitting on my desk with a note taped to the top.

Sorry about Spence. He means well. Xxx, K-Mac

Kylie was sitting at her desk munching on the last few morsels of a glazed doughnut. “I took one,” she said, washing it down with coffee. “The other eleven are all yours.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but don’t you think that’s profiling? Cops and doughnuts?”

“For the record, I did not give Spence your number,” she said. “He found it in my cell.”

“Did he share his theory with you, or shall I?”

“He laid it on me this morning,” she said. “The powers that be in Los Angeles come up with a devious plan to cripple film production in New York.”

“Devious and dastardly,” I said. “The kind of scenario where you definitely expect to see Lex Luthor.”

“I know it’s off-the-wall,” she said, “but at least you have to give him points for creativity.”

“Creativity? No wonder I can’t crack this case. Like an idiot, I’ve been trying to connect the facts.”

“That’s the difference between police work and the television business,” Kylie said. “As far as TV people are concerned, reality is highly overrated. They would never let it get in the way of their thinking.”

“Yesterday was only our first day working together,” I said. “But now that I have some insight into your husband, I’m wondering how many times a week you had to buy doughnuts for your former partners.”

“Believe it or not, you’re the first one Spence ever called.”

“I’m flattered. Sleep-deprived, but flattered.”

“You know Spence. He’s always been fascinated with cops, and he loves that you get to combine cop stuff with show business. He told me last night that you have the coolest job, and he’d trade places with you if he could.”

Spence Harrington wants to trade places with me? I didn’t know how to begin to respond. I never got the chance.

“Zach! K-Mac!” Captain Cates was striding toward us, barking orders as she walked. “Robbery-homicide, West Sixty-two between Columbus and Amsterdam.”

I knew the area well. It was a pretty quiet neighborhood. “What’s there?” I said.

Cates stopped in front of us. She looked like she hadn’t slept much last night either. “A film production trailer,” she said. “And a line producer with a bullet in his chest.”