laughed as Jake nodded his thanks, then took Stephanie's hand, drawing her deeper into the bar. They were halfway down the narrow passageway between bar stools and tables before he realized he'd followed the urge this time—taken her hand. Despite himself, he didn't let go until they reached their destination.
Tony sat by himself at a table in the corner with a mug of draft. His light brown hair was messy, his jeans and loose T-shirt just as telling. "Rough day, pard?" Jake asked.
His old partner smiled up at him through tired eyes. "Rough enough. Better now, though."
Jake could read his thoughts with ease. Tony was happy as hell to see him acting human for a change, actually coming out to a bar, and with a new woman, no less. "Don't get too excited," Jake said, glad someone had put money in the jukebox—"I'm No Angel" by Gregg All-man half-drowned his words. "Not what you think."
"Why don't you pull up a chair for yourself and the lady, and fill me in."
"I'll pull up a chair, but the fillin' in can happen another time." He dragged two wooden chairs from the next table and gave Stephanie the least rickety. As they took a seat, he got straight down to business. "Have the picture, chère?"
Lowering her red drink to the table, she opened a little yellow purse that matched her dress. She passed him two photos—one a snapshot of a young woman in shorts and a snug tee standing on a wooden bridge, probably from a vacation, the other a professional portrait. "We both had these made for our parents' thirtieth anniversary a few years ago," she explained of the second shot.
He didn't know why it surprised him that Tina was a knockout. Probably because he hadn't quite believed she could be as pretty as her sister. Whereas Stephanie was a classic beauty, Tina struck him as the sort of girl most men would fall for faster—her eyes were filled with invitation, her clothing cut to garner attention.
He handed the photos to Tony. "Seen her anywhere?"
His friend studied the pictures. "Afraid not. Sorry." Then he raised his gaze. "Who is she?"
"An escort. Gone missin'." Sort of, he added in his mind. Jake still wasn't convinced the girl was missing at all, but if he wanted to find her, that kind of detail wouldn't help.
Tony handed the pictures back to Stephanie and looked to Jake. "Haven't heard about any missing girls lately."
"I called the police," Stephanie volunteered, "but they didn't seem concerned. She's my sister."
"I am the police," Tony informed her kindly, "but yeah, they might brush off a missing person in that line of work quicker than not. How long has she been gone?" "A few weeks."
Tony nodded, shifting his eyes to Jake. "I'll keep my eyes open."
"Thanks," Jake said.
"You might, uh, show those to Fat Eddie before you go"
"Oh?" Fat Eddie worked homicide these days.
"Girl down by the river last week." Tony spoke low, clearly trying to sound casual, and not saying the girl by the river was dead. Jake still thought it was pretty obvious, so he hoped Stephanie couldn't hear over Gregg All-man's gravelly voice.
"Listen, beb, I'm gonna show these around the bar a few minutes," he said, plucking the photos back out of her hand. "You sit here and drink your drink, chat with Tony."
"I wouldn't trust me with her if I were you," his friend quipped.
"I'm not worried." Friendly banter, his way of saying Tony was no competition. They'd once exchanged similar conversation over Becky. The memory made his gut clench lightly, and for the first time since walking in the door, he remembered there was a good reason he didn't go out, didn't see people—it still hurt too much. For now, though, he pushed away the recollections and focused on what he'd come here to do.
Approaching the bar, he placed his hand on Fat Eddie's shoulder. As always, the man wore a cheap suit and a tie with a spot on it. He held up the pictures. "Seen her?"
Eddie leaned in to look close, shaking his head. "A hot cookie like dat, I'd remember."
Jake
Tony sat by himself at a table in the corner with a mug of draft. His light brown hair was messy, his jeans and loose T-shirt just as telling. "Rough day, pard?" Jake asked.
His old partner smiled up at him through tired eyes. "Rough enough. Better now, though."
Jake could read his thoughts with ease. Tony was happy as hell to see him acting human for a change, actually coming out to a bar, and with a new woman, no less. "Don't get too excited," Jake said, glad someone had put money in the jukebox—"I'm No Angel" by Gregg All-man half-drowned his words. "Not what you think."
"Why don't you pull up a chair for yourself and the lady, and fill me in."
"I'll pull up a chair, but the fillin' in can happen another time." He dragged two wooden chairs from the next table and gave Stephanie the least rickety. As they took a seat, he got straight down to business. "Have the picture, chère?"
Lowering her red drink to the table, she opened a little yellow purse that matched her dress. She passed him two photos—one a snapshot of a young woman in shorts and a snug tee standing on a wooden bridge, probably from a vacation, the other a professional portrait. "We both had these made for our parents' thirtieth anniversary a few years ago," she explained of the second shot.
He didn't know why it surprised him that Tina was a knockout. Probably because he hadn't quite believed she could be as pretty as her sister. Whereas Stephanie was a classic beauty, Tina struck him as the sort of girl most men would fall for faster—her eyes were filled with invitation, her clothing cut to garner attention.
He handed the photos to Tony. "Seen her anywhere?"
His friend studied the pictures. "Afraid not. Sorry." Then he raised his gaze. "Who is she?"
"An escort. Gone missin'." Sort of, he added in his mind. Jake still wasn't convinced the girl was missing at all, but if he wanted to find her, that kind of detail wouldn't help.
Tony handed the pictures back to Stephanie and looked to Jake. "Haven't heard about any missing girls lately."
"I called the police," Stephanie volunteered, "but they didn't seem concerned. She's my sister."
"I am the police," Tony informed her kindly, "but yeah, they might brush off a missing person in that line of work quicker than not. How long has she been gone?" "A few weeks."
Tony nodded, shifting his eyes to Jake. "I'll keep my eyes open."
"Thanks," Jake said.
"You might, uh, show those to Fat Eddie before you go"
"Oh?" Fat Eddie worked homicide these days.
"Girl down by the river last week." Tony spoke low, clearly trying to sound casual, and not saying the girl by the river was dead. Jake still thought it was pretty obvious, so he hoped Stephanie couldn't hear over Gregg All-man's gravelly voice.
"Listen, beb, I'm gonna show these around the bar a few minutes," he said, plucking the photos back out of her hand. "You sit here and drink your drink, chat with Tony."
"I wouldn't trust me with her if I were you," his friend quipped.
"I'm not worried." Friendly banter, his way of saying Tony was no competition. They'd once exchanged similar conversation over Becky. The memory made his gut clench lightly, and for the first time since walking in the door, he remembered there was a good reason he didn't go out, didn't see people—it still hurt too much. For now, though, he pushed away the recollections and focused on what he'd come here to do.
Approaching the bar, he placed his hand on Fat Eddie's shoulder. As always, the man wore a cheap suit and a tie with a spot on it. He held up the pictures. "Seen her?"
Eddie leaned in to look close, shaking his head. "A hot cookie like dat, I'd remember."
Jake
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