know. I can always press Charlie to make a change.”
Sally had to stifle a laugh. Helen Anderson would have absolutely no ability whatsoever to get Chief Charles Flanagan to change a detective on a case. Sally had seen first hand in the past two days-Flanagan ran his department
“No,” Helen answered. “Call me on my cell.”
“What, a hot date?”
“No,” Anderson replied coolly. “Fundraiser.”
Mac was late. He’d stopped for a workout at a buddy’s gym. He’d finished by 6:30 p.m., but then his buddy, Joe Ball, went into his stand-up routine. Joe was a classic, ten jokes at the drop of a hat. Mac couldn’t tell a joke to save his life. Joe’s stand-up routine caused Mac to lose track of time and suddenly it was 6:50. Mac rushed out of the club, got in the Explorer and raced for his place. He pulled in right at 7:00 p.m. and ran up to his third-floor apartment. He got in and threw his gym bag in the spare bedroom when the doorbell rang. Sally.
Mac hit the buzzer to let her up. He needed to take a quick shower. But first he ran into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers, Grain Belts. As he was walking back in with the beers, there was a knock on the door. He opened it up.
Since Lich was not going to be at the meeting, Sally had decided a quick shower and change of clothes would be in order. She was attracted to McRyan and thought maybe it was time he saw her in something a little different than her business suits.
After her shower, she took a look in her closet and tried on a few different ensembles, settling on a pair of tight tan suede pants and a body-forming white-ribbed turtleneck. The outfit would allow appreciation of her figure. She let her fiery red hair down to its regular shoulder length, and put a little curl in it so it fell just over her right eye. Leaving her glasses behind, she popped in her contacts. The outfit was completed with some silver hoop earrings, soft red lipstick and makeup, a bit more than she normally put on. Her mirror confirmed it-she looked good.
McRyan apparently thought so as well.
Mac’s heart skipped a beat, and he did a double take. He almost didn’t recognize her. She looked fantastic. “Come in.” He said, trying to be cool.
Sally gave him a little smile and walked by him and took off her coat. Mac finally remembered to speak. “I’m sorry. I went to work out. I just got home. I need to hop in the shower quick.”
“No problem,” replied Sally.
“Before I do that, I should order. Pizza okay?”
“Yeah, great.”
Mac asked, “Pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, what do you like?”
“I love garbage pizzas.”
Mac grinned. A woman after his own heart. “I’m on it. By the way, I grabbed a couple of Grain Belts out of the fridge.”
“Great. I could use a beer.”
“I’m… ah… going to hit the shower,” he waved his arm around his apartment. “What’s mine is yours.”
Sally walked around while Mac showered. She was pleased her outfit seemed to have had the desired effect. Of course, this was a strictly professional meeting, and they needed to prepare for the senator. Nonetheless, she was having some fun again.
Mac had the whole third floor of the Summit Avenue mansion. It was a large space. She was a bit surprised that it was tastefully appointed with a large black leather couch with a matching love seat and two chairs. A big, weathered, antique trunk served as the coffee table. She perused a book shelf. He had a collection of mystery and military thrillers and was obviously a fan of John Sandford and Vince Flynn. Next to the bookshelf were two large, framed, autographed posters. One was of Kirby Puckett, pumping his fist, having just hit the winning homer in the eleventh inning of Game Six of the 1991 World Series. The other was Bruce Springsteen, the best ever.
At the end of the living room on the right was the kitchen. It was small, had an old gas stove, a small fridge and microwave but not much else. There was barely room for the sink and cupboards. What caught her attention, however, was the door out to a small deck.
The deck made whatever Mac was paying for the place worth it. The view was panoramic. To the right she had a view over the Mississippi River and the High Bridge. Straight ahead was downtown St. Paul, a perfect view of the skyline, as well as the Xcel Energy Center and Science Museum. To the left was the State Capitol, brightly lit. She imagined McRyan spent summer nights sitting on the deck, having a beer and surveying the city.
She could still hear the water running when she walked back in and sat down on the couch and started thumbing through a
Mac took a quick shower, put on a pair of jeans and threw on a black mock turtleneck. Sally had stunned him. She was not unattractive at work. In talking with her at the Pub the night before, he realized that underneath the professional veneer was a very attractive woman. But it was clear how much she dressed professionally and was all business while at work.
He stopped in his office and grabbed his notepad and then walked back out into the living room to find Sally sitting on the black leather couch. Mac grabbed his beer and sat down in one of the black leather chairs. “Pizza should be here in a few. Should we get started?”
“Yeah. Other than Senator Johnson’s prints, anything new today?”
“No.”
Mac mentioned that the remaining neighbors hadn’t seen anything, and that the few people who’d threatened Daniels because of her work, didn’t look good.
“Anyone else you haven’t talked to?”
“A few people in Daniels’ neighborhood haven’t been home when we’ve knocked. They might be out of town. I’ve left my card. I’m sure we’ll hear from them eventually, although, at this point, I’d be stunned if anything came from it.”
“So, it looks like the senator’s the guy?”
“Looks that way,” replied Mac, grabbing his notepad and pen. “So, when we meet with the senator tomorrow, do you think Hisle will let him talk?”
Just as Sally opened her mouth to answer, the doorbell buzzed.
The pizza was a Classic Supreme with everything on it but anchovies and black olives from Classic Italian Pizza. Mac grabbed a cutting board from the kitchen on which to set the pizza. Plates, forks and napkins were grabbed as well, along with two more beers. The spicy aroma of hot pizza made both of them realize it was getting late and they hadn’t eaten. The pizza didn’t stand a chance. Once it had been devoured, they got back to business.
Mac started pretty much where they had left off. “So, when we meet Johnson tomorrow, do you think he’ll talk or be a mute?”
That was the $50,000 question. Would Hisle let his client talk? “Were this a run-of-the-mill murder case, probably not,” Sally said.
“But this isn’t your run-of-the-mill murder case, is it?”
Shaking her head, “No, it’s not.”
Mac took a pull from his beer, leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “So, in this case, you think
