Flawless (New York Confidential #1)(82)

She smiled. “Did you read about all the Hollywood remakes coming up? So ridiculous. Some of those movies shouldn’t have been done once.”

His face brightened. “You’re so right!”

Jake rose to say goodbye, and she got the feeling that he and Marty might have done some talking, since Jake was a movie buff, too.

“Me first,” Marty said, stepping out into the hall ahead of her. He kept her behind him all the way to the car.

He had a little trouble getting out of the parking space, but she pretended not to notice.

“Sorry, I don’t get a car too often,” he told her. “In all honesty, this is only my fourth time on guard duty. I do work in the field, but the older, more experienced guys get most of the real action. I’m on my way, though. I got to partner with Craig when Mike was out recuperating.”

He said that with the same kind of pride a contender for an Oscar might have felt.

She smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Mike has twenty-four years with the Bureau, and Craig has over a decade.”

“They must like their jobs,” she said.

“It’s not a job,” he said seriously. “It’s a way of life.”

They reached Finnegan’s, and of course he gave her very explicit instructions on how she was to exit the car and allow him to block her as they walked in.

She looked around.

Declan and Kevin were behind the bar, and Danny was working the floor with Debbie and Mary Kathleen.

Jimmy was at one of the bar tables...with Gary Benton. She stifled a groan. The other tables were full, too, and the bar itself was crowded.

It was a typical happy hour, but on a Monday, it would thin out soon enough.

“See anything out of place?” Marty asked.

She shook her head.

“Okay, good. But don’t forget, I’m still on duty,” he said gravely.

“Okay,” she said, looking around. The only empty seats were in the dining room. “I’m going to go help out behind the bar. Want to watch me from there?” she asked, pointing to one of the tables.

“I’d rather hang around the bar, where I’ll be close by in case I’m needed,” he said. “You have any nonalcoholic beers?”

“Of course,” she told him, smiling, “but we also have coffee, soda and iced tea.”

“I should look like I’m drinking,” he decided. “Nonalcoholic beer.”

“All right.”

Declan looked up as she walked behind the bar, then stowed her purse and jacket.

“Who’s the kid?”

“FBI agent,” she said.

“Kind of young,” he said.

“We’re not exactly old,” she reminded him.

He grinned. “You have a point. And I’m glad he’s with you.”

“He’s okay. Not quite Mike. Or Craig.”

“No, I guess not,” Declan said, turning his attention back to the glasses he was washing, but she could see him grinning.

Apparently everyone knew that something was going on between her and Craig.

“Gary is here,” she said.

“I know.” Declan looked up at her again. “He came and asked me if it was all right. I said since Julie was at the hospital with Bobby tonight, it was okay.”

“He should really find somewhere else to go,” she said.

Declan sighed. “Look, anytime Julie is here, we’ll ask him to leave. What do you want me to do? Ask Jimmy McManus to find another place to hang out, too?”

“No, but...”

“We’re a pub, Kieran. I know he treated her like crap, but plenty of people like him, and I don’t want to turn this place into Julie’s camp versus Gary’s. Just let it go for tonight, okay? Stay away from his table. Debbie’s been waiting on them. You don’t need to go near him.”

“Okay,” Kieran said. “Okay. For tonight.”

She looked over at the table and saw Gary looking straight back at her.

Suddenly he said something to Jimmy, then rose and headed toward the door.

He turned back to stare at her one last time, and then he left.

She decided it was time to have a chat with Jimmy.

And steal a phone.

*

Bailey was hugely helpful, and the more she described the customer, the more the woman sounded like someone Mike and Craig knew.

They exchanged a look as Bailey spoke.

Short brown hair.

Tall.

Perfectly manicured nails. Bailey said she’d admired the bloodred polish on the customer’s long nails until she’d begun to think the woman intended to scratch her eyes out with them.

“Lots of women have short brown hair,” Mike said.

“And are tall.”

“Bailey, would you mind working with a sketch artist?” Craig asked. “Mr. Rowe, I know that Bailey just got to work, but—”

“If she’s needed,” Rowe said, “she must go. And you’ll receive your full pay for your shift, Bailey.”

“Thanks,” she said, sounding surprised. Then she turned back to Craig and Mike. “I’m ready to go whenever you are,” she said.

She picked up her jacket and purse, and they headed out of the office into the store.