“Yeah, we keep working it. Meanwhile, do a run on Judge Lincoln.”
“Another judge? Jeez.”
“He’s not on Greene’s. But he’s on Archer’s. She’s good,” Eve said as she got into her vehicle. “But she’s not that good. I saw something on her face when I told her he was hearing the arguments over the sealeds.”
Frowning, she pulled out her beeping pocket ’link. “Dallas.”
“O’Malley’s,” Dwier said briskly. “Twenty minutes. Come alone.”
“The Blue Squirrel,” Eve returned, wanting home field advantage. “Fifteen.”
She broke transmission.
Chapter 20
Eve didn’t frequent the Blue Squirrel as often as she once had. It was a joint with no redeeming qualities, including the food and service. During the day, it catered to a handful of surly regulars and the occasional lost soul who was foolish enough to think he might scope out a cheap meal and a little action.
At night it was usually jammed with people who made the action and were tough enough or crazy enough to risk their lives for what passed for alcohol in such places.
The music was loud, the tables small and rarely clean, and the air generally permeated with bad booze and stale Zoner.
Eve had an odd affection for it, and was pleased to find it hadn’t changed since her last visit.
For a time Mavis had been one of the featured performers, whirling in costumes that defied description and screeching out her music to a packed dance floor where people actually seemed to understand it.
Thinking of Mavis, Eve wondered if impending motherhood would tone her down.
Not a chance.
“Grab a table opposite side,” Eve ordered Peabody. “Eat if you dare.”
“Their soy fries are only half-bad. I’ll risk it.”
Eve chose a table in the far corner, slid in. And decided Peabody was right. The fries were only half-bad, and deserved another chance.
She keyed in an order on the menu, and decided not to dance any closer to the edge by risking the coffee. She opted for bottled water, which she feared was bottled in one of the seamy back rooms by flat-nosed men with hairy knuckles.
Seeing no sign of Dwier, she pulled out her communicator and checked in with Feeney. “What’s the status?”
“Nearly there.” There was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow and his hair was sticking out in tufts. “Two hours, we’ll nail it. What’re you working on?”
“In a couple of minutes, lunch. Blue Squirrel.”
“You walk on the dark side, Dallas.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Got a meet with Dwier. He should be coming along shortly. I think he wants to deal.”
“I’ll give him a damn deal.” Feeney blew air out his nose. “You wanna tell me what the brass was doing here this morning?”
“Can’t. I have to wait for some information. Bugs me, Feeney, but I can’t.”
“Hooked a big fish, didn’t you, kid? No, don’t sweat it,” he said. “Just remember, some big fish got teeth.”
“I’m careful. Dwier just walked in. Later.”
She pocketed the communicator, then waited for him to come to the table.
“I said alone. Ditch the uniform or this ends now.”