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Before he could start his tune-in process, the waiter reappeared at his side. “What can I get you, sir?”

“An Angus burger, extra peppers.” Quick and easy.

“How would you like that cooked?”

“Medium.”

“And to drink?”

Patrick indicated his glass. “Water’s fine for now. Maybe coffee later.” He handed over his menu. “Thanks.”

“Very good, sir.” The waiter was well trained. He sensed when a patron wanted his or her space. So he didn’t dawdle. He simply took the menu and left to place the order.

From his ideal seating location, Patrick had no trouble following Fenton and Mercer’s conversation. And, clearly, he hadn’t missed very much, because the two men were still exchanging niceties.

/> “You look great, Cliff,” Fenton said, settling himself in his chair. “A little tired maybe. But that’ll be remedied soon enough. Congress is almost out of session and you’ll be free to come home and enjoy the holidays with your family. How is Mary Jane?”

“She’s great.” Mercer’s smile was practiced, whether from force of habit or because Fenton made him uncomfortable, Patrick wasn’t sure. “Looking forward to having me home.” A chuckle. “Looking more forward to having the kids home. Finals are over next week, and the twins will be flying in right afterward.”

Fenton’s brows drew together as he searched his memory. “Tom’s at Caltech, right?”

A nod. “And Lisa’s at Northwestern. I can’t believe they’re finished with the first semester of their freshman year. To me, it flew by. To Mary Jane, it lasted an eternity. I actually think she’s looking forward to doing laundry—mass quantities of it. Lord only knows what those two are bringing home with them.”

“Straight As, I’d imagine,” Fenton commented.

“They’re doing well.” Mercer sounded like a proud father. “Most of all, they’re enjoying what they’ll later learn is the happiest stage of life.”

“They’re successful. They take after their father. Good genes clearly go a long way. You’re doing a fine job. I’m very impressed.”

“I appreciate that.” Mercer cleared his throat. “Your support during the campaign made all the difference. But I think you know that.”

“I do.” Fenton paused as the waiter approached their table, holding up his palm. “I don’t need a menu. I’ll have the crab cakes and a glass of sauvignon blanc.” He glanced at Mercer. “Do you know what you want?”

“I do indeed.” Mercer gave the waiter a pleasant smile. “I’ll have a chicken club and some sparkling water. I’ve got meetings all afternoon,” he explained to Fenton. “So no wine for me.”

“Understood.”

There was a moment of awkward silence at their table after the waiter left, which seemed to be on Mercer’s part. Clearly, there was an elephant in the room. Patrick just didn’t know what it was, or if Mercer was going to address it.

Leaning forward, Patrick propped his iPad in the upright position. He fired up the FaceTime app and switched to the back camera to record Fenton and Mercer in action. Simultaneously, he listened intently, watching their expressions over the top of the iPad.

Unfortunately, the waiter chose that exact minute to deliver his lunch. It wasn’t the poor guy’s fault that Patrick was on a mission that had nothing to do with food. Nevertheless, the interruption was a pain in the ass.

“Your lunch, sir,” the waiter announced.

“Thanks.” Patrick accepted his Angus burger with a courteous nod at the waiter, hoping the guy wasn’t going to hang around. Once again picking up on his customer’s vibes, the waiter took his cue. He paused only long enough to tell Patrick to let him know if he needed anything else, then turned and left.

“Any news about those maritime contracts?” Fenton was asking in a low tone.

Ah. Business. Finally.

Patrick picked up his burger one-handed and took a bite, watching Mercer’s reaction.

To his surprise, the congressman appeared almost relieved at Fenton’s choice of subjects. Whatever it was that Mercer was reluctant to address, this clearly wasn’t it.

“No worries on that score,” he assured Fenton. “I already spoke to the Army Corp of Engineers. Your company will get its government maritime contracts.”

“Excellent.” Fenton looked pleased, but not surprised. Obviously, he was accustomed to Mercer coming through for him. “I’m glad to hear it. When will it be official?”


Tags: Andrea Kane Forensic Instincts Mystery