Read Online New York Chief of Detectives by Gary Hastings - Free Book Online
Authors: Gary Hastings
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progress in our relationship with the Secret Service.”
“Maggie’s a great gal, Dickie.”
“Absolutely, and she’s a fourteen on a one to ten scale.”
“Actually, I’d say a fifteen.”
“You definitely like her, don’t you, boss?”
“Sure, we’re old friends, and she’s invited me to dinner tonight.”
“Hopefully, this crazy city won’t interrupt it.”
CHAPTER 14
Tuesday, April 6-Day 5
Maggie Parker’s Residence
Borough of Manhattan, New York
1900 Hours
Maggie Parker only lived a few blocks from Pat’s high-rise. Pat had his driver drop him off to change from his uniform into a sport shirt and a blazer. He put his guns on and walked across the street to the House of Flowers and picked up some yellow roses. When Maggie was assigned to the Dallas Field Office, he used to call her “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” because she loved yellow roses. Pat grabbed a cab for the five minute drive to Maggie’s luxury apartment. He walked into the lobby and was immediately recognized by the doorman.
“Chief O’Connor, it’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Thanks, it’s good to see you too.”
“I’ll buzz you in. I know Miss Parker will be glad to see you.”
Pat got off the elevator on the ninth floor and walked to the door of Maggie’s apartment. He rang the bell, being well aware that Maggie had a pin-hole surveillance camera so she could see clearly who was at her door.
The door opened and Maggie was wearing a beautiful casual red, button-down shirt and khaki slacks. Pat gave her the yellow roses.
“Hello, Gorgeous, it’s good to be here.”
“Thanks. The roses are beautiful, Pat. Dinner’s almost ready. Just make yourself at home.”
Pat loved Maggie’s apartment. It was decorated in rustic, southwestern antiques and accented with lots of treasures from her Secret Service career. Pat loved the presidential photographs and had a few of his own from working presidential visits.
“Can you find us some nice dinner music? We’re just about ready.”
“Do I smell what I think I smell?”
“You’ve got it, filet mignon from Mario, your favorite butcher.”
“I thought maybe you had them flown in from the White House Chef.”
“No, I’ve had the filets at the White House, and Mario’s are much better!”
“Wow, I can’t wait.”
Pat had largely built Maggie’s CD collection. Music was an ambience for her and a passion for him. She preferred it soft and subtle, while Pat liked it to sound like the performer was in the room with you. He selected jazz pianist Oscar Peterson’s tribute to Frank Sinatra. He set the volume at Maggie’s level.
Maggie had candles lit and they sat down, facing each other. Pat always felt like a teenager when he looked at Maggie. It reminded him of the high school crushes he had on a few cheerleaders. Pat took his first bite.
“Oh, my goodness, Maggie, this is the best ever.”
“I’m glad that you like it.”
Pat was distracted as his cell phone started to buzz.
“For once, I wish I could ignore this.”
“But, I know you won’t.”
He looked at the caller ID. It said “Private.”
“Pat O’Connor.”
“This is George McBain, Chief. We have a problem.”
“What’s wrong George?”
“I’d rather not say on a cell phone.”
“Where are you, George?”
“I’m at my desk at the lab.”
“I’ll call you on a land line.”
Pat moved his chair back.
“Sorry, Maggie, this sounds important I need to use a land line.”
“You can use my secure phone in the study, over by the computer. It’s the black one. Let me punch in my code and you’ll be good to go.”
Pat dialed George’s number.
“Crime Scene Unit, Sergeant McBain.”
“Pat O’Connor here, what’s up?”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid, but thanks for calling back, Chief. We’ve just finished our ballistics work in the Curtis Gee case. We’ve run both the casings and the bullets in
“Maggie’s a great gal, Dickie.”
“Absolutely, and she’s a fourteen on a one to ten scale.”
“Actually, I’d say a fifteen.”
“You definitely like her, don’t you, boss?”
“Sure, we’re old friends, and she’s invited me to dinner tonight.”
“Hopefully, this crazy city won’t interrupt it.”
CHAPTER 14
Tuesday, April 6-Day 5
Maggie Parker’s Residence
Borough of Manhattan, New York
1900 Hours
Maggie Parker only lived a few blocks from Pat’s high-rise. Pat had his driver drop him off to change from his uniform into a sport shirt and a blazer. He put his guns on and walked across the street to the House of Flowers and picked up some yellow roses. When Maggie was assigned to the Dallas Field Office, he used to call her “The Yellow Rose of Texas,” because she loved yellow roses. Pat grabbed a cab for the five minute drive to Maggie’s luxury apartment. He walked into the lobby and was immediately recognized by the doorman.
“Chief O’Connor, it’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Thanks, it’s good to see you too.”
“I’ll buzz you in. I know Miss Parker will be glad to see you.”
Pat got off the elevator on the ninth floor and walked to the door of Maggie’s apartment. He rang the bell, being well aware that Maggie had a pin-hole surveillance camera so she could see clearly who was at her door.
The door opened and Maggie was wearing a beautiful casual red, button-down shirt and khaki slacks. Pat gave her the yellow roses.
“Hello, Gorgeous, it’s good to be here.”
“Thanks. The roses are beautiful, Pat. Dinner’s almost ready. Just make yourself at home.”
Pat loved Maggie’s apartment. It was decorated in rustic, southwestern antiques and accented with lots of treasures from her Secret Service career. Pat loved the presidential photographs and had a few of his own from working presidential visits.
“Can you find us some nice dinner music? We’re just about ready.”
“Do I smell what I think I smell?”
“You’ve got it, filet mignon from Mario, your favorite butcher.”
“I thought maybe you had them flown in from the White House Chef.”
“No, I’ve had the filets at the White House, and Mario’s are much better!”
“Wow, I can’t wait.”
Pat had largely built Maggie’s CD collection. Music was an ambience for her and a passion for him. She preferred it soft and subtle, while Pat liked it to sound like the performer was in the room with you. He selected jazz pianist Oscar Peterson’s tribute to Frank Sinatra. He set the volume at Maggie’s level.
Maggie had candles lit and they sat down, facing each other. Pat always felt like a teenager when he looked at Maggie. It reminded him of the high school crushes he had on a few cheerleaders. Pat took his first bite.
“Oh, my goodness, Maggie, this is the best ever.”
“I’m glad that you like it.”
Pat was distracted as his cell phone started to buzz.
“For once, I wish I could ignore this.”
“But, I know you won’t.”
He looked at the caller ID. It said “Private.”
“Pat O’Connor.”
“This is George McBain, Chief. We have a problem.”
“What’s wrong George?”
“I’d rather not say on a cell phone.”
“Where are you, George?”
“I’m at my desk at the lab.”
“I’ll call you on a land line.”
Pat moved his chair back.
“Sorry, Maggie, this sounds important I need to use a land line.”
“You can use my secure phone in the study, over by the computer. It’s the black one. Let me punch in my code and you’ll be good to go.”
Pat dialed George’s number.
“Crime Scene Unit, Sergeant McBain.”
“Pat O’Connor here, what’s up?”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid, but thanks for calling back, Chief. We’ve just finished our ballistics work in the Curtis Gee case. We’ve run both the casings and the bullets in
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