“I promise it’s just between you and me.”
He went along with her. “I wanted to go back, but it was too late—I’d burned my bridges. In the world of football, I was yesterday’s news. There was already a new crop, younger, keener, fitter.
Better
than me. My father said nobody was sorrier than he was, but family came first and he was never a man to shirk responsibility. And he didn’t expect his son to either.”
Harry laughed as he told Mal exactly what his father had said about zipping up his pants.
“So you went back to law school?”
“I knew he was right. Opportunity knocks but once inthe short sweet life of a professional athlete. It’s now or never. When it comes, you grasp it, or suddenly a year or two has gone by and you’re already too old, passed over in favor of the new crop. I graduated from law school and went to work for my father.”
The waiter arrived. Mal’s eyes grew round with pleasure as she looked at the plates of salmon tartare served on top of tiny crisp potato cakes. Harry thought she looked like a little girl with a birthday cake.
“Taste it,” he encouraged. “See if it’s as good as it looks.”
“Mmm.” She rolled her eyes happily, her mouth full. “Better.”
“I’m relieved to see you’re human after all. I was beginning to think the Mal Malone we see on television was the real you.”
“Perhaps she is.” She wasn’t about to explain herself to Detective Harry Jordan. She picked up on her theme again. “You lasted two years working for your father. And then you quit and became a cop. Why?”
Her bright blue eyes felt as though they were drilling into the back of his head, seeking out the truth from him. But behind the soft voice and appealing manner, he was aware that her mind was clear and razor-sharp; he guessed it was that combination that had made her such a success.
“Since you know so much, I assume you already know the reason.”
After a pause she said, “What about your wife? Did you love her?”
“Jesus, Malone.” He glared at her, shocked. “Of course I loved her. And if you want to know, it hurt like hell when she left. And why, may I ask, do you want to know?”
“Just checking that rich cops have feelings too.”
“Like you, Malone?” he said coldly.
She grinned. “
Touché
, detective. Tell me about the Moonlightin’ Club.”
He had to laugh. He said admiringly, “How the hell did you find out about that? It’s supposed to be a secret.” Harry had bought and donated the gym anonymously—only a few of his superiors knew about it.
“It’s my job to know things about people. I know you’re in the process of fitting out a second gym in another area, this time with a swimming pool. And that you and some of the other cops give generously of your free time to help out.” She looked seriously at him. “You did a wonderful thing, Harry. A lot of men wouldn’t have considered spending that kind of money to help street kids.”
He shrugged. “Other men don’t see them on the streets every night the way I do. Somebody’s got to help and I figured since I didn’t earn the money, why not put some of it back where it came from?”
“Very noble,” she said, meaning it.
“Oh sure, Saint Harry. I feel as though I’m on your show,” he added, exasperated. “I think it’s time we talked about you.” He took her hand and turned it over, studying the lines. “Or do I have to read your palm?”
Mal eyed him uneasily—she was good at interviews, but not so good at giving answers. “There’s nothing to tell. Just the usual format—small-town girl goes to college, gets job in small-town TV station, becomes a weather girl, and is taken up by a network.” She shrugged. “The rest is history.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Harry held up his hand. “Slow down a minute. “
What
small town? How about your family? Brothers and sisters? Boyfriends? Your marriage—and I demand equal time on this one. Come on, Malone, this is no
He went along with her. “I wanted to go back, but it was too late—I’d burned my bridges. In the world of football, I was yesterday’s news. There was already a new crop, younger, keener, fitter.
Better
than me. My father said nobody was sorrier than he was, but family came first and he was never a man to shirk responsibility. And he didn’t expect his son to either.”
Harry laughed as he told Mal exactly what his father had said about zipping up his pants.
“So you went back to law school?”
“I knew he was right. Opportunity knocks but once inthe short sweet life of a professional athlete. It’s now or never. When it comes, you grasp it, or suddenly a year or two has gone by and you’re already too old, passed over in favor of the new crop. I graduated from law school and went to work for my father.”
The waiter arrived. Mal’s eyes grew round with pleasure as she looked at the plates of salmon tartare served on top of tiny crisp potato cakes. Harry thought she looked like a little girl with a birthday cake.
“Taste it,” he encouraged. “See if it’s as good as it looks.”
“Mmm.” She rolled her eyes happily, her mouth full. “Better.”
“I’m relieved to see you’re human after all. I was beginning to think the Mal Malone we see on television was the real you.”
“Perhaps she is.” She wasn’t about to explain herself to Detective Harry Jordan. She picked up on her theme again. “You lasted two years working for your father. And then you quit and became a cop. Why?”
Her bright blue eyes felt as though they were drilling into the back of his head, seeking out the truth from him. But behind the soft voice and appealing manner, he was aware that her mind was clear and razor-sharp; he guessed it was that combination that had made her such a success.
“Since you know so much, I assume you already know the reason.”
After a pause she said, “What about your wife? Did you love her?”
“Jesus, Malone.” He glared at her, shocked. “Of course I loved her. And if you want to know, it hurt like hell when she left. And why, may I ask, do you want to know?”
“Just checking that rich cops have feelings too.”
“Like you, Malone?” he said coldly.
She grinned. “
Touché
, detective. Tell me about the Moonlightin’ Club.”
He had to laugh. He said admiringly, “How the hell did you find out about that? It’s supposed to be a secret.” Harry had bought and donated the gym anonymously—only a few of his superiors knew about it.
“It’s my job to know things about people. I know you’re in the process of fitting out a second gym in another area, this time with a swimming pool. And that you and some of the other cops give generously of your free time to help out.” She looked seriously at him. “You did a wonderful thing, Harry. A lot of men wouldn’t have considered spending that kind of money to help street kids.”
He shrugged. “Other men don’t see them on the streets every night the way I do. Somebody’s got to help and I figured since I didn’t earn the money, why not put some of it back where it came from?”
“Very noble,” she said, meaning it.
“Oh sure, Saint Harry. I feel as though I’m on your show,” he added, exasperated. “I think it’s time we talked about you.” He took her hand and turned it over, studying the lines. “Or do I have to read your palm?”
Mal eyed him uneasily—she was good at interviews, but not so good at giving answers. “There’s nothing to tell. Just the usual format—small-town girl goes to college, gets job in small-town TV station, becomes a weather girl, and is taken up by a network.” She shrugged. “The rest is history.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Harry held up his hand. “Slow down a minute. “
What
small town? How about your family? Brothers and sisters? Boyfriends? Your marriage—and I demand equal time on this one. Come on, Malone, this is no
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