“He had a date.” Mac sighed heavily and put his cards face down.“I fold. Pass that over here.” He gestured to the food.
Sloan turned to Trace. “Guess it’s just you and me, Langston.”
Mac moaned. “Damn, that’s good.”
“Try it with the Funyuns.” Sloan passed the bowl down.
“I’ll raise you forty.” Trace rubbed his beard.
Sloan smiled. “I call.”
“Sweet mother of God,” said Mac, pointing to the plate. “When I’m on my deathbed, I want you to make me that. You can just shove it in my mouth until it blocks my airway.”
Trace turned over his cards. “Flush.”
“You dick.” Sloan turned over his full house.
Trace smiled and winked before raking the chips toward himself. “Always a pleasure doing business with ya, Dvorak.”
Moto lifted his chin toward Trace. “We should get going.”
“I’m just getting warmed up,” Trace whined.
Moto stood. “Your designated driver has to be on a plane for Wyoming at five in the morning.”
“So do I. We can sleep on the way. It’s a four-hour flight.”
Sloan leaned back in his chair. Moto was the epitome of discipline, managing to squeeze more into a day than most people did in a week. There was no way in hell Trace would convince him to go off schedule. “Thanks for coming by,” said Sloan.
Trace reluctantly stood and burped. “When you go wheels up, Dvorak?”
“Got a few days off.” He walked Trace and Moto to the door and said his goodbyes. He made himself a gin and tonic before joining Mac back at the table. It was time for them to have a conversation, one he’d been dreading for months. But first, he needed to check on his friend. “You look tired, old man.”
“I feel it.”
“Any news on Ellie?” Mac’s wife had left him years earlier, and every moment he wasn’t doing official HERO Force business, Mac was looking for her.
Sloan was aware of Mac’s stare fixing on the gin and tonic. Mac didn’t drink, but Sloan had long suspected it was because he might never stop if he did. The man had a hunger about him that never seemed to be satisfied. Men like that often chose to be numb rather than constantly chase fulfillment.
“Waiting on the DNA results from the bodies we found down south. Making me goddamn stir-crazy.”
“I’m praying for good news for you, man.”
Mac grunted. “Sometimes I wonder what the hell that would be. I hope she’s alive, of course. But if she is, she doesn’t want me in her life. I don’t see a happy ending in sight.”
Sloan didn’t believe that was completely true. If Mac wasn’t holding out hope, there would be no point in searching for his wife. On the contrary, searching for Ellie seemed to be the only constant Mac really had. “People can surprise you. Even somebody you’ve completely given up on can turn around and make good. Be part of your life again. You just fight the good fight until you find her.”
“Oh, I ain’t giving up. Just think I’m out of my damn mind, is all.” He reached for another filet mignon snack. You ever been married, Dvorak?”
“Came close once, but I dodged that bullet.”
“Somebody told me once, even people you’ve given up on can come back and make good.”
Sloan laughed. “Not this time.”
“So, what’s going on with you? You been looking like Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and shit.”
“Noticed that, huh?” He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. This talk was long overdue, but that didn’t make it any easier. “How do I put this? I’m thinking maybe this business isn’t for me, after all.”
