exception of the one left by the fire. That hole would take more than Spackle to fill, and he didn’t feel like cutting lumber yet.
Billy killed the time by searching every nook and cranny in the station for forgotten porn DVDs. Much to Wade’s surprise, and Billy’s delight, he found one. Billy was as giddy as kid after an Easter egg hunt.
By 6:00 p.m., it was getting dark and the car for Terrill still hadn’t come. Wade doubted that it ever would.
“Tell you what, Billy. Why don’t you take one of the squad cars, drop off Mr. Curtis at the jail, see him through processing, and go on home.”
“What about my car?”
“You can leave it here overnight,” he said.
“In this neighborhood?”
“It’s parked at a police station,” Wade said. “How much safer could it be?”
There was only one correct answer to that question and Billy knew it. And if he didn’t, Wade’s glare told him so.
“Right, of course,” Billy said, gathering up his DVD and posters. “We’re the King City Police. What was I thinking?”
He might have put up a stronger argument if he’d known what had happened to Wade’s Mustang. But he didn’t. And Wade wasn’t about to tell him.
“It was a good first day, Billy.”
“It sure was,” Billy said with a grin. “I got shot and I’m leaving with free porn. It doesn’t get much better than that.”
There wasn’t the slightest trace of bitterness or sarcasm in the remark. When Wade looked at Billy’s face, what he saw was genuine delight.
At least someone was happy to be in Darwin Gardens-or was too clueless to realize how much danger he was in.
Wade had two hours before his next twelve?hour shift, so he headed to Pancake Galaxy for an early dinner and plenty of caffeine.
But if he was honest with himself, and he usually was, it wasn’t really the food, or the convenience, that led him across the street. He wanted to see Amanda Guthrie again.
There were about a dozen customers in the restaurant, most of them middle?aged. Mandy worked the front counter while another waitress, a good twenty years older than she, covered the tables. Old man Guthrie was at the cash register with his oxygen tank, his cigarettes, and his shotgun.
“You’re still alive,” Guthrie said.
“So are you,” Wade said.
“The odds were more in my favor.”
Wade took a seat at the counter. Mandy came over and poured him a cup of coffee.
“How was your first day?” she asked with a smile.
“You’ll have to ask me tomorrow,” he said. “It’s not over yet.”
“What are your hours?”
“Today it’s twenty?four, but starting tomorrow, my shift is nine at night to nine in the morning.”
“Yikes. I’ll make you a canteen of coffee that you can take with you tonight.”
“That would be nice,” he said.
“Everybody’s talking about you,” Mandy said. “Your showdown with Timo, you moving in, the sit?down with Duke, your arrest of that junkie.”
“Word gets around,” he said.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
It was and she got points in his book for knowing it.
“So what’s the consensus?” he asked.
“Duke bought you, or you’d already be dead.”
“What do you think?”
“I think if you could be bought, you’d still be in the Major Crimes Unit and not here.”
“You read up on me,” he said.
“I did,” Mandy said. “What would you like for dinner?”
“The usual.”
“You’ve only been here once.”
“Now you know how much I liked it.”
She took the order back to the cook in the kitchen and then served some other patrons at the counter.
While Mandy did that, two of the guys who’d trashed Wade’s car came in and approached Guthrie. But they kept their eyes on Wade, staring at him with cold hate.
Wade just sipped his coffee, unperturbed by their presence, which perturbed them plenty.
Without a word, Guthrie opened the register, took out some money, and handed it to them. They walked out.
Wade had another sip of coffee. “Donating to charity?”
“Paying my weekly security bill,” Guthrie said.
“I thought this was hallowed ground.”
“Even the Vatican needs security,” Guthrie said.
“I don’t recall seeing any smiling pancakes on the walls of the Sistine Chapel.”
“If you look closely, they’re there,” Guthrie said. “Michelangelo hid pancakes everywhere. It was his thing.”
“Have you thought about not paying?” Wade asked.
“The DVD place tried that,” Guthrie said. “They had a fire and now they’re gone.”
“But now you’ve got a police station right across the street,” Wade said. “That changes things.”
“We’ll see,” Guthrie said and starting coughing.
Mandy came out of the kitchen with Wade’s pancakes and bacon and carried them to an empty booth by the window. She set the plates down on the table and came back to the counter.
“Your dinner is getting cold,” she said.
He picked up his coffee and went over to the booth. A moment later, Mandy slid into the bench seat across from him, setting down the pot of coffee and half of an apple pie.
“What are we doing over here?” Wade asked as he started to eat.
“I wanted some privacy while I chatted with you.”
“Do you want to tell me something that you don’t want your father to overhear?”
“I might say something racy and suggestive.”
“Like what?”
She picked up a fork and took a bite of his pancakes. “I haven’t had sex in six months.”
“Oh,” Wade said.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
“Nope,” Wade said, continuing to eat. He liked how frank she was and how relaxed she seemed to be with him. It made him feel relaxed, more at ease than he’d felt in months. The uniform did too, though he didn’t know why.
“Aren’t you interested?” she asked.
“Sure I am,” he said. “But I’m being chivalrous.”
She stole another bite of his pancakes. “I didn’t know that chivalry involved not talking about sex.”
“Sir Lancelot never talked about sex.”
“But he got plenty of it,” she said.
“Probably,” Wade said.
“That’s why they called it Camelot,” she said.
“I think you’re mispronouncing it,” he said.
“What about you, Tom?”
