Frustration sparked through Angie. “I should be on that case—sex crimes,” she said quietly.
“It’ll be there when you return. You’ll be back faster than you think.”
“Don’t patronize me, Maddocks. I can see the reality of my situation. You owe me more than platitudes.”
He snorted, turned down Government. “I’m sorry. But I do believe it’s going to work out. You have support, friends.”
“Doesn’t change the facts of the case ...wait, what are we doing here?” He’d pulled up outside the Flying Pig pub and grill.
“I’m not going in there,” she said.
“Oh, yes you are.”
Maddocks held the door open for Angie. Music, boisterous, emanated from inside. She hesitated. “I can’t believe you’re forcing me to do this,” she said.
He grinned, and a wicked little twinkle lit those gorgeous deep-blue eyes of his.
“Forceyou? I don’t think anyoneforcesAngie Pallorino to do anything.”
Angie entered, nerves flitting about her stomach. The place was packed, a live band playing on the small stage area in the far corner.
Maddocks took her coat. Angie tensed as Leo caught sight of them. Leo’s hand shot straight up into the air. The band stopped. Everyone turned around. He brought his hand down, and the band started another tune as balloons released from the ceiling. Everyone began to sing ...
For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow ... and so say all of us! Three cheers for Pallorino!
The pub erupted into cheers, and Leo came up, slapped her hard between the shoulder blades. “Welcome back, Pallorino!”
Angie quickly swiped tears from her eyes, embarrassed at showing her emotions like this. “Jesus, Leo, I’mnotback. I’m fucking suspended.”
“Ah, good as back. This round’s on me—what you having?”
Angie stared at him, stunned. She shot a glance at Maddocks. He was grinning like a stupid Cheshire cat. “Is thisyourfault?” she snapped at him.
“This is you on friends, Pallorino,” Maddocks said. He turned to Leo. “Get us a bottle of nice red, will ya?”
“Comin’ right up.”
“Yo, man,” said Holgersen as he joined them.“You gots a tribe in blue that’s a rootin’ for yoooo!”He sang the words in an astounding bass, then his face turned serious. “Good to see yous, partner.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
“Aye—” He held his hands out to his sides and angled his head. “Guilty as charged. But no sex. Still celibate all the ways down the line.”
“Freak,” muttered Leo as he shoved his way toward Colm McGregor behind the packed bar.
Barb O’Hagan waved from a booth at the back, quieter end of the pub. Above the booth tables hung streamers of Christmas tinsel. The whole place smelled like beer, and turkey cooking, and boozy Christmas pudding.
Maddocks escorted Angie through the crowd toward the booth. Seated with O’Hagan was Sunni Padachaya from the lab, coroner Alphonse, and Dundurn and Smith from sex crimes.
“Hey, lady,” O’Hagan said with a gap-toothed grin. “Pull up a pew.”
Leo brought the wine and glasses over, and Holgersen scooted in beside Angie with a full mug of beer.
“So, did you hear the rumor about Fitz?” Leo said.
“What rumor?” Maddocks said.
Leo leaned closer. “Have a friend in tech—you know that voice recording Winston made of the deep throat?”
