Fat Tuesday(20)
"Yeah, I get that all the time," Burke said impatiently."What?"
"Sachel declined our deal."
"Give me fifteen minutes with him." "It won't do any good, Burke. He turned it down before we even laid out the terms. He left absolutely no room for negotiation."
"He's going to risk a trial?"
'"No, he's going to enter a guilty plea. To all charges."
"Son of a bitch," Burke swore."Duvall got to him."
"That would be my guess, yeah."
"Jesus, is the guy immortal?" He barked a caustic laugh."He beats us at every turn."
"Duvall doesn't play fair. We abide by the rules."
Burke gnawed the inside of his jaw, muttering, "Maybe it's time we didn't."
"Come again?"
"Nothing. Say, Doug, I gotta get out of here."
"Burke " "Catch you later."
He slammed the door behind him, grabbed his jacket as he sailed past his desk, and headed for the exit, nearly colliding with Mac McCuen.
"Hey, Basile. I've been looking everywhere for you. We need to talk."
"Not now." He wasn't in the mood for McCuen. Right now he couldn't stomach McCuen's unflagging optimism and irritating, inexhaustible energy. Without even slowing down, he said, "Later, Mac."
"Hello, Burke. Come in." Nancy Stuart motioned him inside her suburban house.
After hearing about Hahn and Sachel, it was masochistic to come here today. But after driving around for hours, stewing and cursing, Burke didn't know what else to do with himself. He was supposed to be taking the week off anyway, so why not piss away the whole day?
The Stuarts' house was a brick structure with painted wood trim.
The lawn wasn't as well kept as it had been when Kev was alive. He had enjoyed yard work and boasted that his Saint Augustine was the greenest grass on the block. Burke noticed that a shutter on one of the front windows was sagging. The entry-hall rug needed shampooing, and one of the lightbulbs in the vaulted ceiling had burned out. One day soon, he needed to spend a day off helping Nancy with some maintenance and repairs.
"Come on back into the kitchen," she said over her shoulder as she led him down the central hall."I've started supper. We're eating early.
It's open house at school tonight. Would you like something to drink?"
"Coffee, if you've got it."
"Do you mind instant?"
He did, but he shook his head. The kitchen was cluttered and homey.
Hanging in a prominent spot was a calendar marking carpool days, dental appointments, and the open house at school tonight. Reminder notes and class pictures of the two boys were stuck to the refrigerator with magnets shaped like ketchup bottles and mustard jars. A cookie jar in the shape of a teddy bear smiled at him from the countertop.
Following his gaze to it, Nancy offered him some."They're store bought. I don't bake much anymore." "No thanks," he said."The coffee's fine."
She returned to her mixing bowl where she was crumbling saltine crackers into ground beef. Chopped green peppers and onion were waiting to be added along with a can of tomato sauce."Meat loaf?" he asked.
"How'd you know?"
"My mom made it often enough."
"Your mom?" She looked at him with puzzlement."You know, Burke, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you mention your family.
In all the years I've known you."
He shrugged."I worried about reprisals, you know, that sort of thing.
So I purposefully don't talk much about them. Anyway, it's not much of a family anymore. My dad worked for the railroad. When I was in third grade, he got crushed between an engine and a freight car. So my mom was a working single parent before it came into vogue. She was a telephone company employee until she died of cancer a few years ago.
"Now it's just me and my kid brother. He lives in Shreveport. Has a wife, a couple of kids." He smiled wryly."Mom must've known three dozen ways to stretch a pound of ground meat."
"I can identify."
"How are the boys?"
"Fine."
He sipped the coffee, which tasted worse than expected."Are they doing okay at school?"
"The last report cards were good."
"Besides grades."
Knowing that he was referring to their psychological well-being, she hesitated."They're okay. Considering."
"Well. That's good." He toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table, placing them side by side, separating them, pushing them back together."It's been warm lately."
"I'd like to think that means the end of winter. But we still might get a freeze."
"Yeah. As late as March."
Lately, this lame attempt at conversation seemed the best they could do. They avoided talking about anything substantive or important.
Which was strange since the roughest times were behind them.
He'd been the one to bring her the news of Kev's death. Doug Pat had volunteered to carry out the unpleasant task, but Burke had insisted that the responsibility fell to him. He'd been there to support Nancy when she collapsed after hearing the news, and he'd remained a fixture at her side throughout the funeral procedure.