Chapter 11 Chapter 10 The Tell-tale Heart

“The most uncomfortable thing about a story is the loose ending,” Deputy Doug Lippmann said, choosing four small custard ham cakes from Lambiase’s appetizers.After hosting the Sheriff's Choice Book Club for many years, Lambiase knows that the most important thing, even more important than the book at hand, is the food and drink. "Deputy," Lambiase said, "can only take three dollars, or it won't be enough for everyone." The deputy put a small custard ham cake back on the plate. "Well, well, what the hell happened to that violin? Did I miss something? An invaluable Stradivari violin can't really just disappear."

"Well said," said Lambiase, "who else?" "You know what I hate the most," says Kathy from the homicide squad. "I hate rough police work. For example, if no one is wearing gloves, I'm like: Shut up, you're destroying a crime scene." "In Deaver's work, you never have that problem," says Silvio, the scheduling department. "If only they were Deavers," Lambiase said. "But what I hate more than bad police work is everything being resolved so quickly," Homicide's Kathy continued, "even Deaver. Things take time to figure out. Sometimes it's Years. You live with a case for a long time."

"Well said, Casey." "By the way, the little custard ham cake is delicious." "Bought it at Costco," Lambiase said. "I hate those female characters," said Rosie, the fireman. "The policewoman is always from a police family and used to be a model. And she must have a flaw." "Nail biting," said Kathy from Homicide, "messy hair and big mouth." Fireman Rosie laughed. "It's a figment of the imagination for women in law enforcement, and that's it." "I can't say," said Deputy Dave. "I like that kind of fantasy."

"Maybe the author is trying to show that the violin is not the point?" Lambiase said. "Of course, that's the point," said Deputy Sheriff Dave. "Maybe the point is to show how this violin has impacted everyone's life?" Lambiase added. "Bah," Fireman Rosie said.She made a thumbs down gesture, "Bah, bah." AJ listens to the discussion from the counter.Kojima Books hosts a dozen or so book groups, of which "The Sheriff's Picks" is by far his favorite.Lambiase yelled at him, "Back me up, AJ. You don't always have to know who stole the violin."

"In my experience, a book is more satisfying if you know it," AJ said, "but I don't mind being vague myself." The crowd's cheers drowned out his "satisfied" words. "Traitor," Lambiase said loudly. At this time, the wind chime rang, and Ismay entered the bookstore.The group continued to discuss the book, but Lambiase couldn't help but stare at her.She wore a white summer dress with a floor-length skirt that accentuated her slender waist.Her red hair was long again, softening the lines of her face.He thought of the orchids his ex-wife had planted by the front window.

Ismay walks over to AJ.She put a piece of paper on the counter. "I've finally settled on a play," she said. "I need about fifty copies of Our Town." "It's a classic," AJ said. On this day, many years after Daniel Parrish's death, half an hour after the "Sheriff's Selected Book Club" event, Lambiase thought he had waited long enough to ask AJ specifically. "I hate to cross the line, but ask your sister-in-law if she's interested in dating a decent-looking police officer?" "Who are you referring to?" "Me. I'm kidding about my fair looks. I know I'm not particularly sought after, exactly."

"No, I'm asking who you want me to ask. Amelia is an only child." "Not Amelia. I mean your ex-sister, Ismay." "Oh, yes, Ismay." AJ hesitated. "Ismay? Really? Her?" "Yeah, I've always had a crush on her, since high school. Not that she paid me much attention. I guess we're all just getting older, so I should take my chance now." AJ called Ismay to ask her. "Lambius?" she asked. "He?" "He's a nice guy," AJ said. "It's just... well, I've never dated a cop before," Ismay said.

"That's starting to sound snobby." "I didn't mean that, it's just that I have never had any feelings for blue-collar workers." So you and Daniel are doing pretty well, AJ thought, but didn't say it. "Of course my previous marriage was a disaster," Ismay said. A few nights later, she and Lambias dined at the Corazon restaurant.She ordered a surf and turf and a gin and tonic.No need to be feminine because she doubts there will be a second date. "Good appetite," commented Lambiase, "I'd like the same." "So," said Ismay, "what do you do when you're not a cop?"

"Well, believe it or not," he said coyly, "I read a lot. Maybe you'll think that's okay. I know you teach English." "What do you read?" Ismay asked. "Read a little bit of everything. I started off with crime fiction, which I guess was easy to figure out. But then AJ got me into other books. Literary fiction, I guess you'd call them. Compared to what I like to read , The plot of this kind of novel is not rich enough. It's a bit embarrassing to say, but I like young adult novels, which have rich plots and complicated emotions. In addition, I will read whatever AJ reads. He prefers short stories..."

"I know." "And whatever Maya reads, I read too. I love talking to them about those books. They're readers, you know. I also host a book group for other cops. Maybe you've seen 'Sheriff's Picks' indicator?" Ismay shook his head. "Sorry, I talk too much. I'm nervous, I think." "You're fine." Ismay took a sip of her drink. "Have you read Daniel's book?" "Read, one, the first." "How do you like it?" "Not really my thing. But it's well written." Ismay nodded. "Do you miss your husband?" Lambiase said.

"Not very much," she said after a while, "sometimes miss his sense of humor. But the best of him is in his books. I think if I miss him too much, I can always read his books." .But I haven't thought about reading it yet." Ismay smiled. "Then what are you reading?" "Plays, a little poetry once in a while. Then the books I teach every year: Johnny Goes to Battle, Pray for Owen Meaney, Manan the Weaver, Their Eyes on God, or I The Secret Castle. These books are like old friends. "But I choose new books just for myself, and my favorite character is like this, a woman in a faraway place, in India, or Bangkok. Sometimes she leaves her husband. Sometimes she never marries because she wisely Know married life is not for her. I like to see her have several lovers, like to see her wear a hat to keep the sun off her fair skin, like her to travel and adventure, like to see for hotels, posted Depictions of luggage, food, clothing and jewelry for the label. There is a bit of a romantic element, but not too much. The story is set in the past, no cell phones, no social networks, no internet at all. Ideally set in the 1920s or The Forties. Maybe there was a war, but that was the background. No blood, a little bit of sex, but not too graphic. No kids, and I think kids often ruin a story." "I have no children," Lambiase said. "I don't mind having them in real life. I just don't want to read them. The ending can be happy or sad, I don't care anymore, as long as it makes sense. She can settle down, maybe start a little business, or She could throw herself into the sea. In the end, a beautiful cover is important. I don't care how good the inside is, but I don't want to spend time on something ugly. I'm shallow, I think." "You are a very beautiful woman," Lambiase said. "I'm normal," she said. "Absolutely not." "Beautiful isn't a good reason to pursue someone, you know. I have to tell my students that all the time." "That's from someone who doesn't read books with ugly covers." "Well, I was reminding you. I could be a book with a pretty cover but not a pretty one." He sighed. "I know a few cases of this." "For example?" "My first marriage. The wife is beautiful, but mean." "So you think you're going to make the same mistake twice?" "No, it's been years since your book was on the shelf, and I've read the plot summary and quotes on the back cover. A caring teacher, godmother, community member of integrity, carer for brother-in-law and her daughter. Unhappy marriage, Maybe it’s because I got married too early, but I did my best.” "It's pretty general," she said. "But enough to make me want to read on." He smiled at her. "Can we have dessert?" "It's true that I haven't had sex in a long time," she said in the car on the way back to her house. "Okay," Lambiase said. "I think we should have sex," Ismay said again, "if you want to, I mean." "I do," Lambiase said, "but if that means I don't get the chance to go on a second date with you, then I don't. I don't want to warm up to whoever ends up with you." She laughed at him and led him into her bedroom.She took off her clothes and left the lights on.She wanted him to see what a fifty-one-year-old woman looked like. Lambiase whistled softly. "You're lovely, but you should have seen me before," she said, "you must have seen the scars." From her knees to her hips, there was a long scar.Lambiase stroked it with his thumb, and the scar looked like a seam on a doll. "Yes, I see it, but it doesn't make you any less attractive." She had fifteen broken bones in her leg, and she had to replace the socket in her right hip, but otherwise she was fine.For the first time in his life, Daniel took the brunt of the impact. "Does it still hurt?" Lambiase asked, "Shall I take it easy?" She shook her head and told him to take off his clothes too. She woke up first the next morning. "I'll make you breakfast," she said.He nodded bewilderedly, and she kissed his shaved head. "Do you shave your head because you're bald, or because you like it?" she asked. "A little bit." Lambiase replied. She put the towels on the bed and left the bedroom.Lambiase tidied himself up unhurriedly.He opened her nightstand drawer and looked through her things.She has several expensive-looking cosmetics that smell like her.He rubbed some on his hands.He opens her wardrobe.Her clothes are very small.There were silk skirts, pressed cotton tops, wool sheaths and paper-thin cashmere cardigans.It's all bright beige and off-white, and her clothes are scrupulously tidy.He looked at the top shelf of the closet, where her shoes were neatly arranged in their original boxes.On top of one of the stacks of shoes, he noticed a small pink child's rucksack. His cop eyes locked on to the kid's rucksack because it didn't quite fit there.He knew he shouldn't, but he pulled it off anyway, unzipping it.Inside the ziplock bag are crayons and a few coloring books.He picked up the coloring book, which said "Maya" on the cover.Below the coloring book was another book, thin and more like a booklet than a book.Lambiase looked at the cover: There are streaks of crayon marks on the cover. Lambiase didn't know what was going on. His police brain starts spinning, forming the following questions: 1) Is this AJ's stolen Timur? 2) Why is "Timur" in the hands of Ismay? 3) Why was there a crayon drawing on "Timur"? Who did it?Maya? 4) Why is Timur in a knapsack with a Mayan name? He was about to run downstairs for Ismay to explain when he changed his mind. He spent a few more seconds looking at the ancient book. From where he sat, he could smell the pancakes, and he could imagine her making pancakes downstairs.She was probably wearing a white apron over a silk nightgown, or nothing but the apron.That was exciting.Maybe they could make love again, not at the kitchen table.No matter how erotic it is in the movies, having sex at the kitchen table is still uncomfortable.Maybe on the couch, maybe upstairs.Her mattress was soft, and her sheets must have been in the thousands. Lambiase was proud of being a good cop, and he knew he should go downstairs now, making up an excuse to tell her why he was leaving. But is that the sound of orange juice being squeezed?Is she in hot syrup too? That book was destroyed. Besides, it was stolen a long, long time ago, over ten years ago. AJ is happily married.Maya settled down.Ismay suffered too. Not to mention, he really likes this woman.In any case, this has nothing to do with Lambiase.He put the book back in the rucksack, zipped it up, and put the rucksack back in its place. Lambiase thinks that when police officers get old, they either tend to be talkative, or vice versa.Lambiase is not as stubborn as he was when he was young.He found that people do all kinds of things, often for reasons. He went downstairs and sat down at her table, a round table with the whitest tablecloth he had ever seen. "It smells so good," he said. "It's nice to be able to cook for people. You've been on it for a long time." She said and poured him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.Her apron is turquoise and she's wearing a black gym suit. "Hey," Lambiase said, "did you happen to read the short story that Maya entered the competition? I thought the kid was a surefire winner." "Haven't read it yet," said Ismay. "Basically what Maya thought was the last day of her mother's life," Lambias said. "She's always been very precocious," Ismay said. "I always wondered why Maya's mum chose Alice Island." Ismay flipped one pancake, then flipped the other. "Who knows what people think when they do things?"