“Yup.” As they both put on their coats, Mac looked back in the bar to wave good night and saw it immediately. Cops, seven or eight of them, had been watching him and Sally talk. He knew what they were thinking. He could see it in their eyes-Mac’s going to get some. Mac shook his head at them and, with his back turned to Kennedy, mouthed, “Fuck you.” They all just laughed. He turned to Kennedy, who hadn’t noticed, “Where are you parked?”
“Just across the street,” Kennedy nodded out the front window, “The Camry. You?”
“Out back. I’ll walk you across the street. You never know.”
She shared a warm smile. “Thanks.”
They walked across the street in silence. Mac stopped about fifteen feet short of her car. She dug out her keys and continued to the driver’s door. As she opened it, she looked back, flashed him a smile. “I suspect I’ll be seeing a lot of you now?”
The smile, the comment, the way she said that-which could be taken a couple of ways, one of which made Mac’s heart skip a little beat. He played it cool. “I suppose so.”
Kennedy nodded, flashed him another smile and got in her car. Mac turned and walked back across the street. He would be seeing a lot of her most likely and that wasn’t an altogether bad thought. It had been the longest conversation he’d had with a woman since the divorce. As he was walking around to the back of the Pub, he looked in the front window through the MCRYAN’S PUB letters and saw his friends, laughing, waving their arms and giving him the look like he struck out. Mac chuckled. He imagined his couple of beers with Kennedy would be the talk of the town tomorrow. Cops-they loved the gossip. He thought about going back inside and trying to stop it before it started, but he knew better. He’d only make it worse.
Sally turned into her driveway, hit the garage door opener and pulled into her one-car garage. It was late, 11:30 p.m., but she smelled like a bar- smokey. She knew she couldn’t sleep like that. She took a quick shower. The warm water felt good, and she instantly knew she would sleep better.
She got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and dried her shoulderlength hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she liked what she saw. She was thirty-two and took good care of herself. The Stairmaster in the spare bedroom, used daily, helped. With no husband and a lot of extra time, she spent it on herself. Not that anyone could ever really tell when she was in her business suits, but that was the way she wanted it. The last thing she wanted to attract was another lawyer. But, she was starting to stir. The divorce would always be with her, but a lot of the pain was behind her now. She thought maybe she wanted to start seeing people, wanted to start dating. McRyan. She hadn’t spent that much time talking with a man in months, at least a good-looking one and he was that. Might have to try to get to know him a little better she thought.
Chapter Eight
Mac pulled into the parking lot of the Cleveland Grille. Lich had suggested an early breakfast. The Cleveland was a greasy spoon if there ever was one. Breakfasts were fattening and the coffee thick. It had classic seventies decor with vinyl booths, butt-ugly yellow-and-brown wallpaper, and a speckled tile floor. It was a total design disaster. It was also the best place in town to get breakfast. Mac loved the Cleveland Grille breakfast burrito. It was guaranteed to make lunch unnecessary.
When he walked in, Mac saw a couple of uniforms at the counter getting a cup of coffee to go. They nodded and smiled. Odd smiles?
Mac found Lich in a back corner booth, reading the
“Good morning to you.” Lich looked up and smiled, a shit-eating grin. “So… tell me… how’s Sally Kennedy?”
So that’s why the odd smiles when he walked in. Mac rolled his eyes. “Christ, that didn’t take long.” He looked back to find the uniform cops laughing. Cripes.
“Word is you two talked for quite a while last night.”
“Yeah, we talked,
“Riiiiiight.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey, don’t get defensive.” Lich took a sip of coffee. “I was glad to hear it. Get back on the horse, son. You can’t sulk about your divorce forever. It’s over and done with. Your ex was a bitch anyway,” Lich reasoned. “I’m secure in my masculinity, so I can say this-you’re a good-looking guy, Mac. Get out there and get yourself a little. Sally Kennedy? She’s a damn fine lookin’ woman. Have at it.”
“I need to stop
“About the financial aspects, sure. The bitch cleaned me out. But I’m better off without her.”
Just then their waitress appeared. She was a late forty-something named Dot. She wasn’t the prettiest woman in the world, but her ample bosom flowed out of her top that was two sizes too small. She looked at Mac, and then gave a big smile to Lich. No wonder they were here.
“What can I get you, detectives?” Dot asked.
Lich went first, “Dot, honey, I’ll have my usual.”
“And you, detective?” Her smile remained but turned businesslike.
“Coming right up.” Dot replied. She gave Lich another smile and walked away.
Mac didn’t say anything right away. Instead he grabbed the sports section, checking out the latest on the Vikings. Dot came right back with the coffee and juice. Mac looked over his paper and saw Dot refill Lich’s cup, giving him another very pointed smile and a, “Let me know if you need anything else?” It wasn’t directed at Mac.
Mac kept reading for about another minute, then said, “So, you seen her tits yet?”
Lich let out a rueful laugh, “Not yet, but rest assured, young man, I’m working on it.”
Mac cackled. Maybe Lich was right. If at fifty-two, or whatever his age was, he was getting back after it, maybe he needed to as well.
They talked about the case a little, deciding what they were going to be doing for the day. The autopsy report would be ready. Then they would canvass the neighborhood some more and try to catch up with some people they missed. And of course, they would find out what they were going to be doing about the senator.
Mac finished his breakfast and paid his tab. He left Lich behind so he could make some time with Dot.
Viper awoke at 8:00 a.m. refreshed. Eleven hours of sleep would do that for a person. The boss wanted him at his house by 10:00 a.m. to discuss the status of the Daniels matter as well as a few other things. He imagined the boss was working his contacts to see where the police were at with the case.
The drive out took forty minutes. Viper didn’t mind. He owned a Corvette, and he was running out of days to drive it. Soon snow would fall, and Viper would have to break out his Land Rover.
The boss lived on Lake Minnetonka, twenty miles west of Minneapolis. Lake Minnetonka, or “The Lake” as residents who lived out that way called it, was prime home land for Minnesota’s elite. The lakeshore held some of the most valuable real estate in the Twin Cities. The boss’s house was on a three-acre, pie-shaped lot with three hundred feet of shoreline. The house was an impressive three-story mansion overlooking a tennis court, pool, and, of course, the lake. There was a long, winding driveway from the main road, which circled in front of the house. To the side of the house was an area for guest parking. Viper pulled the Vette into a guest spot and headed inside. A housekeeper took his coat and directed him up to the third-floor study.
The boss was on the phone. He waved Viper in and pointed towards a table containing refreshments and
