Walt Murphy – Part Two – 31

I made it home without any incidents. After I walked inside, it was a different story. Ricky didn't even give a kiss or a hug before he pounced. It wasn't the sort of pounce I'd have take advantage of.

"Tell me right this minute what's going on," he said, his hands on his hips as he glared at me. "And don't give me any bull about lunch with Caiazzo."

"I did have lunch with him," I protested.

"Good. Now what else happened?"

"I got another message from my friendly biker." When he cocked one eyebrow, I elucidated.

"So now he's threatening to kill you? Or me? Or even Chelsea?"

"Looks like," I agreed.

"Aren't we the lucky ones?" He tried to smile, and almost succeeded. "So we all watch our backs."

"Yeah. If I had my choice…"

"That's not happening," he said before I could finish. "You can tell Chelsea to stay home, or take a long vacation until this is over, but me… I'm going on just as always. So far he hasn't really tried to do more than scare you off."

"Which isn't working, babe. So what's to say he won't step things up a notch?"

"Nothing." He dropped down on the sofa, looking up at me, and almost smirked when he said, "Call the good detective and see if he has any spare body armor."

"Oh yeah, like that would happen." I joined him, shaking my head. "Are you sure you wouldn't like an all expense paid trip to the Bahamas?"

"Not without you. Besides, what good would it do?"

"It would give me a chance to nail whoever it is without worrying about you."

"Walt," he replied, taking my hand, "I'll be just fine. I'm not an idiot. I won't put myself in a position where I can be attacked. I keep my car in the garage when I'm home, and in the parking garage at work. I promise I won't go out for lunch." He grinned a bit. "Meaning of course that you'll have to pick something up and bring it to me every day."

I chuckled. "So I'm expendable?"

"Not even, but you're well trained, I'm not. You know what to look for. Who to look for, well more or less on the 'who'." He tapped the fingers of his free hand on his thigh then asked, "Did you get any impression of what the guy on the bike looked like?"

"Not his face, since he was wearing a helmet. Body-wise”—I closed my eyes, trying to picture him—"Relatively slender. Taller than short. I'd guess muscular. Fairly broad across the shoulders."

"Does that eliminate anyone?"

"Yeah, it does actually. Whitmore. The guy in Wyoming."

"You've met him?"

"No, but he has a couple of profile pictures on LinkedIn. He looks like what he is, a man closing in on his fifties who's spent most of his life behind a desk."

"Doesn't mean he's not fit," Ricky pointed out. "After all, I spend most of my working hours at a desk. A lot of men do and they don't go to seed as a result."

"He's hardly gone to seed, but he's got a bit of a paunch, and sloping shoulders."

"Okay, I get the point. So he's eliminated."

"I think so. That leaves Donati, Milano and Ben. Since I have no idea what Ben looks like I couldn't say if it could be him. Donati and Milano… Yeah, possible."

"Backtrack. Who's Milano?"

"I found out about him this morning. He was Ms Engel's boyfriend when she lived in Shreveport, which was after she'd split from Whitmore." I gave him all the details, ending with, "That's why I had lunch with Caiazzo. He's going to look into Frank Milano and see what he can find out. He thinks that Milano is living in Gary."

"That's not too far from here, all things considered."

"Exactly."

"When will you hear from Caiazzo?"

"When he has something to tell me."

"That could be in five minutes or a week from now and until then you'll be chomping at the bit."

"Probably, unless I can come up with a way to draw the killer out. And not piss Sharp off in the process."

"I don't like that idea, but still I suppose it's an option."

"Don't worry. If I do come up with a plan it'll be as foolproof as possible. But for now, let's make dinner? I for one am starving."