The waitress checked her watch. A small beauty mark above her upper lip twitched as she scrunched her eyes to make out the time. In the dim light, Maggie could see the lines of exhaustion in the woman’s attractive face.
“They’re supposed to close down at midnight.” She kept her voice friendly though Maggie could tell it was an effort. “There are still a few minutes if I get it in now.” Her offer was genuine. “Any idea what he wants?”
“A burger and fries,” Delaney said without hesitation.
“Medium rare,” Maggie added.
“With pickles and onion.”
“And a bottle of A.1 sauce, if you have it.”
“Oh, and cheddar cheese on the burger, too.”
The waitress smiled at them. Maggie glanced at Delaney, and they burst out laughing.
“God, I wonder if Turner realizes how predictable he is?” Maggie said while wondering if there was anyone who paid as much attention to her habits and quirks.
“It sounds like the three of you are very good friends.” The waitress had relaxed, looking a little less fatigued. “I don’t suppose you know what he’ll be drinking?”
“Do you have Boulevard Wheat?” Delaney asked.
“Of course. Actually, it’s a Kansas City brew.”
“Okay. Well, that’s what he’ll want.”
“I’ll get his order in and bring back your drinks. Sure I can’t get either of you something to eat?”
“Maggie?” Delaney waited for her to shake her head. “Maybe some fries for me.”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, Rita,” Delaney added as though they were old friends.
As soon as she left their table, Maggie gave Delaney’s shoulder a shove. “I thought you said you weren’t good at this stuff?”
“What stuff?”
“This flirting stuff. Usually Turner’s doing it, so I don’t get to see the real master at work.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” But it was obvious from his grin that he was enjoying the attention.
“‘Thanks, Rita’?”
“That’s her name, Maggie. That’s why they wear those name tags, so we can all share a friendly meal.”
“Oh, right, only she never gets to know our names or sit down and eat with us. How friendly is that?”
“Hey, guys.” Turner slid into the last chair. “Lots of attorneys here this time.”
“Those two women are attorneys?” Delaney craned his neck to get a better look.
“You betcha.” He waved a piece of paper with their phone numbers before tucking it into his pocket. “And I never know when I might need an attorney.”
“Yeah, right. Like the three of you were talking legal matters.”
Maggie ignored their banter and simply asked, “What conference is this anyway?”
Both men stopped and stared at her as if waiting for the punch line.
“You’re serious?” Turner finally asked.
“Hey, I make the same presentation every time, whether I’m in Kansas City or Chicago or L.A.”
“You really don’t get into these things, do you?”
“It’s definitely not why I joined the FBI.” Suddenly she felt uncomfortable with both of them studying her as if she had slipped and said something wrong. “Besides, Cunningham keeps my name off the program roster, so it’s not like anyone is coming specifically to hear me and my words of wisdom.”
She had interrupted their jovial moods, reminding them why she was really here. Not because she longed to teach profiling to a bunch of cops, but to keep her out of the field, away from Albert Stucky. Rita returned, relieving Maggie once again, this time with a tray of drinks. Turner immediately raised his eyebrows at her when she placed the bottle of beer and a glass in front of him.
“Rita, you’re a mind reader.” He wasted no time using her name just as Delaney had, as if they, too, were old friends.
The pretty waitress blushed, and Maggie watched Delaney, searching for signs of rivalry. Instead, he seemed pleased to leave the flirting to his single friend.
“Your burger and fries should be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Oh my God! Rita, will you marry me?”
“Actually, you should thank your friends. They got the order in just before Carl closed the grill.” She smiled at Maggie and Delaney this time. “I’ll bring out the rest of the order as soon as it’s ready.” Then she hurried away.
Maggie couldn’t help thinking that Rita was a seasoned waitress who already knew which of her customers were the big tippers. Turner rewarded his waiters and waitresses with attention and familiarity, but it was Maggie or Delaney who remembered to leave a substantial tip.
“So, Turner,” Delaney said. “Why are there attorneys at this conference?”
“Mostly prosecutors. Sounds like they’re all here for that computer workshop. You know, the database thing the Bureau’s been setting up. Lots of D.A. offices are finally getting connected. At least in the bigger cities. And since they’re all
Maggie and Delaney shook their heads at each other. Just as Maggie tipped back her glass, she saw a familiar figure in the long mirror that stretched behind the bar. She slammed her glass down and stood, sending the table rocking and her chair screeching. She looked over in the direction from where she thought the mirror had reflected the image.
“Maggie, what is it?”
Turner and Delaney stared at her as she stretched to see over the bar patrons. Was it her imagination?
“Maggie?”
She checked the mirror again. The figure in the black leather jacket was gone.
“What’s going on, Maggie?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.” Of course she was fine. Yet her eyes searched for and found the door. There was no man in a long, black leather jacket coming or going.
She sat down, pulling her chair in and avoiding her friends’ eyes. They were getting used to her jumpy, erratic behavior. Soon, she’d be like the little boy who cried wolf, and no one would pay any attention. Maybe that was exactly what he wanted.
She grabbed her glass and watched the amber liquid swirl. Had it only been her imagination? Had she really seen Albert Stucky or was she simply losing her mind?
CHAPTER 16
He waited for her at the rear exit, knowing this was the door she would use when she was finally ready to leave. The alley was dark. The brick buildings stood tall enough to block out any moonlight. A few bare lightbulbs glowed above some of the back doors. The bulbs were dull, covered with bug shit and swarmed by moths, but still his eyes stung when he looked at them directly. He tucked his sunglasses into his jacket pocket and checked his watch.
Only three cars remained in the small parking lot. One was his, and he knew neither of the other two belonged to her. He knew she wouldn’t be driving this night. He had decided to offer her a ride, but would she accept?
He knew how to be charming. That was simply a part of the game, a part of his disguise. If he was to take on this new identity, he would need to play the role that came with it. And out of the two of them, women always preferred him to Albert.
Yes, he knew what women liked to hear, and he didn’t mind telling them. In fact, he enjoyed it. It was part of the manipulation, an integral piece of the puzzle to gaining complete control. He had discovered that even strong,
