AARP Hearing Center
![Illustration of a man wearing a jacket with the letters N Y P D on the back is walking through a clean white-tiled autopsy room with three empty metal tables, a utility sink, a cabinet and a rack with various scales and buckets Illustration of a man wearing a jacket with the letters N Y P D on the back is walking through a clean white-tiled autopsy room with three empty metal tables, a utility sink, a cabinet and a rack with various scales and buckets](https://cdn.aarp.net/content/dam/aarpe/en/home/benefits-discounts/members-only-access/chase/chapters-5-8/_jcr_content/root/container_main/container_body_main/container_body1/container_body_cf/container_image/articlecontentfragment/cfimage.coreimg.50.932.jpeg/content/dam/aarp/members-only/member-benefits/2024/02/chase/1140-ch05-08-chase.jpg)
CHAPTER 5
I FINALLY ARRIVED back at my apartment that night around five.
A message on the fridge said Mary Catherine was out to get the twins from cheerleading practice and Ricky from soccer, and instructed me to put the lasagnas in the fridge into the oven at 5:30. Bennett situation normal, I thought as I cracked open a can of Corona Light and took a gulp. Busier than the control tower at LaGuardia.
Mary Catherine is my kids’ nanny, and also my girlfriend. I’m a widower, so it isn’t as sleazy as it sounds. Or maybe it is; I’m not an expert on these things. At least that’s what I tell myself whenever my Catholic guilt taps me on the shoulder.
![member card Image Alt Attribute](https://cdn.aarp.net/content/dam/experience-fragments/uxdia-folder-structure/en/features/membership/inline-membership-promo/default/master5/_jcr_content/root/responsivegrid/container_copy/container/articleimage.coreimg.75.1140.png/content/dam/uxdia/membership-card-d-and-t.png)
LIMITED TIME OFFER: Labor Day Sale!
Join AARP for just $9 per year with a 5-year membership and get a FREE Gift!
“Dad! Look, look! It came! It came!” My daughter Shawna rushed at me with a large tan envelope as I walked into the living room. It was from the Schenectady Chamber of Commerce.
There were half a dozen pamphlets inside, as well as the Daily Gazette newspaper.
“Mary Catherine said after dinner I can cut out some of the pictures for the poster board.”
“Hey, that’s awesome, Shawna.”
“No, it’s not, Dad,” said Trent, coming in behind her with his arms crossed. “It’s not fair that Miss Goody Two-shoes got all this great stuff for the project and I didn’t get anything. Mine’s filled with just stupid printouts off the internet.”
Oh, no. Here we go again, I thought, sharing a smile with Eddie, who was on the couch simultaneously reading a paperback and watching ESPN with the sound off.
With ten adopted kids, drama on the home front is to be expected. The latest brouhaha concerned two of my youngest, Shawna and Trent, who were in the same fourth grade class and were both doing projects about New York State.
Competitively, of course. Shawna was assigned the city of Schenectady, a metropolis whose factoids we had been regaled with for the last two weeks.
Trent had nearby Rome, New York, which—in addition to being the place where the country’s first cheese factory was founded—was the nation’s current 140th largest city.
Who knew? We did. That was who. Whether we wanted to or not. No one was in a more rabid New York state of mind than the Bennetts.
“Hey, look, guys. Quick. On TV. Look there,” Eddie said, pointing quickly at some news footage of a car on fire. “This is just in. Schenectady and Rome, New York, just both suddenly exploded. They’re both gone, and now your projects are gonna really totally stink. Darn. I’m so sorry.”
“D-A-A-D!!!” Shawna and Trent yelled in unison.
CHAPTER 6
AFTER PUTTING ALL fighters back into their respective corners, D-A-A-D had to make a call from his bedroom.
“Hey, Chief. It’s Mike,” I said to Fabretti.
“Mike, please tell me some good news on this jumper,” he said. “My boss keeps calling me every five minutes.”
“Okay, here we go,” I said, putting my beer on my nightstand as I fished out my notepad. “Seven o’clock yesterday, a thirty-something male in a dark silk suit checks into the Index House Hotel under the name of Pete Mitchell, pays in cash, and shows them ID.”
“What do you mean, under the name of?”
“Turns out, this ID, a Delaware driver’s license, is a fake. There actually are a number of Pete Mitchells who live in Delaware, but based on age alone, it’s pretty clear that none of them are our dead guy. His license is a good fake, though.”
“Oh, here we go. No ID. An actual suicide whodunit?” Fabretti said.
“That’s not all. This guy gets a room, drops off his stuff, comes back down and has a drink at the bar. About ten minutes after that, he goes to the restroom and blows chunks. Then he goes up to the roof through the stairwell, and they find him the next morning in the worksite beside the hotel.”
“What?”
You Might Also Like
Free: An Excerpt From ‘Crosshairs’
Read the first 10 chapters of another thriller in James Patterson’s series featuring Detective Michael Bennett
Free: ‘The Trial’ by James Patterson
Quick-read features Detective Lindsay Boxer and friends and an accused murderer wreaking havoc in San Francisco
Meet James Patterson
Get to know the all-time best-selling author and find out what’s in store for the Women's Murder Club
More Free Books Online
Gripping mysteries and other novels by popular authors available in their entirety for AARP members
Recommended for You