“I think I can keep it together long enough to solve this case. If… if you could stay with me?”
“Whatever you wish.” They stopped at a red light, and George turned to him. “You know you just have to say the word and it’ll be my pleasure to tell Norris off.”
Andi simply nodded.
“Promise me, Andi. Promise you won’t suffer in silence. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. I hate to say it, but you’re so good at hiding your condition, sometimes it’s hard for me to pinpoint when to take you out. Youmustcommunicate, understood?”
Placing a hand on George’s thigh, Andi nodded.
“I promise. And—I do better the closer you are. It’s difficult when we’re in public, I get that. But at home—”
“As if I care what other people think.” George snorted. “We’re both single. You’re my partner. Whatever people want to think, they’ll think. That’s at the very bottom of our concerns.”
Squeezing George’s thigh, Andi silently conveyed his gratitude.
“Are you still okay with Geena coming with us? I can find an excuse for her to stay at the precinct.”
“No, it’s fine. I like her humor. And she’s just curious, not mean.”
“You would know.”
“Actually, the silverfish in the precinct do.”
“That’s the same.”
HALF ANhour later, they were on their way to Reuben McDonald’s apartment in Upper King, north of the Historic District. Reuben lived on Woolfe Street in a very nice, freshly renovated ground-floor apartment. According to Shireen he had inherited this place from a distant relative who had bought it back in the ’60s, when housing in this area had been cheap. Now the apartment was worth quite a lot, and just staying there occasionally when Reuben was driving through seemed like a waste to Andi. Reuben McDonald had paid with his credit card at a restaurant in the area just the other day, so they were positive they would find him at home. His tour back to Florida was scheduled for the following day, information courtesy of Shireen as well.
“How do you want to do this?” Geena was leaning between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. She didn’t wear any perfume, and the soap she used was neutral, two things Andi appreciated very much. George set the blinker to turn right into Woolfe Street.
“Since we had the pleasure of talking to Timothy Cervill, you can have Reuben if you want.”
“And here I thought chivalry was dead.” Geena fanned herself.
“Don’t get used to it. I’m just having a good day.”
“As opposed to your genius yet super grumpy partner, you mean?” Geena winked at Andi.
“I hate people. Suspects are people. You can have them all.”
“I can see why you love working with him.” If Geena’s tone had been any drier, the words would have crumbled.
“It does have its perks.” George parked the Escalade at the sidewalk in front of the apartment building. “Beguile him with your feminine charms.”
“I can sense a sarcastic note somewhere in there. Luckily for you, I like using my charm.”
They got out, and Geena rang the bell. George stood next to her while Andi kept in the background, slightly to George’s left, where he could see him in the corner of his eyes, the way he liked it. Reuben McDonald opened the door, and several things became clear at once. First, names could be misleading, because Reuben looked about as Scottish as a mealworm looked like a peacock butterfly. His skin was dark, his hair was in neat locks, and he was a lot smaller than the Highlander type Andi had imagined. He also appeared younger than the fifty-five he was. Secondly, he wasn’t their killer. No trace of bees at all. His apartment was filled with the usual suspects, mainly silverfish, spiders, mites, and a few moths in a crack above one of his windows. Andi immediately relaxed, which got him a sharp glance from George. He shook his head subtly, which in turn made George relax as well. Geena held up her badge.
“Good morning, Mr. McDonald. I’m Agent Geena Davis from the FBI, and these are my colleagues, Detectives George Donovan and Andrew Hayes from the CPD. Do you have a minute?”
Reuben didn’t seem nervous in the least, even though he was approached by three officers at his home. Maybe it had something to do with George. Andi wouldn’t know without asking, which was out of the question. The topic was sensitive, and he was not subtle.
“Of course. How can I help?”
Geena gestured toward the apartment. “Is it okay if we come in?”
Reuben seemed to mull this over for a moment; then he stepped aside, inviting them in. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything except water. My coffee maker died yesterday.”
“That’s no problem, Mr. McDonald. We will only take a minute of your time.” Geena waited till Reuben led the way into a spacious living room with an open-plan kitchen. It was all very nice, framed pictures of landscapes on the walls, with a few snapshots of Reuben with what Andi assumed were friends. They sat down where Reuben indicated. Geena didn’t waste time.
