No Good to Cry Read Free Page B

so.” She glanced at Gracie. “But it’s going to be all right.”
    â€œLiz the optimist.”
    She smiled. “Rick the eternal pessimist.”
    Gracie was frowning at both of us. “You two talk at each other like you’re an old married couple.”
    I gave Gracie a quick hug, staring at Liz over Gracie’s shoulder. “We’ll always be an old married couple.”
    Liz, in a matter-of-fact voice, said, “Rick forgets that I keep the divorce papers in plain sight.”
    Walking ahead, Gracie pressed the button of the elevator and ignored us.
    The fifth-floor reception nurse indicated a room down on the right. “The cops are still in there.” She peered down the hallway. “Like Times Square at New Year’s in here today.” A young woman, perhaps late twenties, her eyes drifted from me to Liz and finally rested on Gracie, whose flamboyant cloak looked out of place in the stark setting. “I don’t think they’re expecting a crowd.”
    Gracie smiled an unfriendly smile at her, clearing her throat, but I tucked my hand under her elbow and maneuvered her down the corridor. As we neared Room 515, the door suddenly opened and a uniformed cop stepped out, trailed by a man in a baggy suit who was berating him. “You ain’t got the brains you were born with, Reilly.” He got louder. “Your mama drop you on that pinhead of yours?” The young cop flushed as he faced us, which caused the man to glance our way. His eyes got wide and smoky.
    â€œShit. He’s back. I knew it would happen.”
    Solemnly, I half-bowed at the rumpled man. “Detective Ardolino.”
    â€œIn the flesh.” He poked the young officer. “Don’t just stand there. Get moving.” The detective arched his back and turned back to me. “And, I suppose, a lot more of it than you remember, Rick Van Lam.” He thumped his protruding belly, the faded blue dress shirt looking ready to burst some helpless buttons. A sliver of white flesh peeked through.
    It had been more than a year since I’d see the homicide detective, the two of us reluctantly working together to solve the murder of Vietnamese twin sisters. A cop who had little patience with others stepping into his territory, he’d never returned my calls after the Hartford PD stamped finis on that file.
    â€œI thought you were going to retire.”
    He glared. “So you remember that? Well, the wife nixed that idea. The idea of me being home all day long was just too much pleasure to bear.” He chuckled to himself.
    â€œA lucky woman.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “I’m glad one of us thinks so, Lam. I should be lying on a white beach in Porto Gordo at this moment. Instead I’m tucking a body into the back of a van headed to the morgue.”
    I stepped toward the closed door. “Anyway…”
    â€œAnyway, I figured we’d meet again. Once I learned that Gadowicz”—he jerked his head back toward Jimmy’s room—“is your partner in crime.”
    â€œCrime- solving .”
    â€œEvery PI I’ve ever met is a criminal at heart.”
    â€œBless you, Detective.”
    â€œYeah, yeah.”
    True, Ardolino had packed on a few pounds since I’d last seen him, but the dumpy suit looked the same, if shabbier. A blot of reddish-purple covered an elbow, as though he’d dipped it into blood splatter. Poorly shaved with three resistant strands of hair now silvery gray combed across his blotchy scalp, Ardolino seemed a homeless derelict—and probably an incompetent one. I knew better. I’d learned the man’s mettle. Appearance had nothing to do with his incisive, dogged mind. When the man chose to employ it, he had few rivals.
    â€œGood to see you.” I smiled again.
    â€œYeah, yeah.” He looked at Liz, a lopsided grin animating his face. “And who are you?”
    Liz had been watching him