36

“Seriously, he confessed?” Adam tossed back the last of his whiskey and gave Pete a look of disbelief.

“Yep, it was that easy.” Pete shrugged and raised a hand to get the bartender’s attention. “You have time for another?”

Adam glanced at his watch. He’d left Sylvia in the apartment an hour ago, telling her he needed to catch up with Pete about work. He knew he’d find him at Blackie’s, their usual haunt. “Sure, why not. So tell me about this confession.”

“Smiley fingered him. I don’t know what he’d done to Smiley, but he even agreed to sign a witness statement.”

“Huh, go figure.” Adam wrapped his hand around his glass. “Getting rid of the competition, I suppose. Good ole capitalism at work.”

Pete smiled. “I guess so. When Jake confessed, he gave us everything. Even his fence.”

“What?” Adam laughed out loud. “So it’s a twofer?”

“A good day all around, buddy. At this point, we’ve actually got back almost everything that was taken.” Pete shook his head as he sipped his beer. “A couple of art pieces gone. The fence didn’t have them, says he never got them.”

Adam patted Pete on the back, then winced as the vibration hit his bad arm. “Not bad, considering.”

“Considering how many cases go unsolved in this city?”

Adam raised an eyebrow and nodded his agreement.

Pete shrugged. “Well, that’s just a fact of life, you know how it goes. We need to take our victories where we can get them, you know?”

“I do, partner, I do. So what else is going on now? Captain told me to take a few days off, heal myself, then I’ll be back on the streets with you.”

Pete eyed Adam’s sling suspiciously. “Is that what you think? I’m guessing you’ll have a bit more light duty in store first, buddy. Sorry.”

“Nah, that’s fine. I probably need it.” Adam reached over the bar to grab a bowl of peanuts and tossed a few into his mouth. “Hey, thanks again for helping out with Julia — not only catching the guy, but taking care of her, you know?”

Pete shook his head and glanced down. In the bar’s dim light, it almost looked like his face turned a little red. Adam laughed to himself. Not a chance. Pete could handle a little praise, that much he knew.

“Just helping out a friend. And it was a lucky break, really.” Pete’s words were swallowed by his pint cup coming up to his mouth.

“Hmm.” Adam shrugged. “There really isn’t any honor between thieves, is there?”

“Hah, as if. They’ll turn on each other faster than a pack of jackals. ‘A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!’”

“Umm…” Adam brought his eyebrows together and stared at his partner in a parody of concentration. “Benjamin Franklin?”

“Close. Shakespeare.” Pete grinned and took a sip of his beer.

Adam grinned and laughed softly under his breath. “I guess the rule to live by is, if anyone gets anything on you, make sure you’ve got something on them, too. Kept running into that in DC, too.” Adam’s thoughts ran to Jason McFellan, the challenges he’d face once word got out about his blog. As it was bound to do, eventually.

Pete laughed gently. “That’s right, they’ll either make you pay or they’ll turn you in.”

Adam put his whiskey back on the bar, his head on the side. “They’ll make you pay…. That’s it. That must be it.” He pushed his stool back as he stood, almost knocking it over.

“What is, partner? What did you figure out?”

“I’m catching the first train back to DC in the morning.”

“Sylvia won’t be happy with that. She wants you to toe the line. Get in the commissioner’s good graces. Not ignore his instructions.”

Adam shrugged. “He told me to take a few days off, get myself healed before coming back to work.”

“I don’t think going back to DC is what he had in mind. I’m telling you, Sylvia’ll be pissed.”

“I’ll deal with Sylvia. I gotta get back there. I know what’s going on.”

“Of course, sir. Yes” — Adam shook his head no as he spoke into the phone — “I understand.” He frowned as he listened, one hand in the air like a supplicant. “No, I don’t agree. No.”

Adam ran his free hand through his hair, grabbing a handful and almost pulling it out of his head.

His voice rose. “I really think you’re making a mistake—”

He stopped talking, his mouth in a thin line.

“Yes. Sir.” The sarcasm punctuating his last word followed the phone as he threw it onto the sofa.

At this time of night, he hadn’t been able to get through to Deputy Commissioner White. Only the lieutenant in charge of Dignitary Protection. Who had no interest whatsoever in listening to Adam’s suggestion that the FBI had it all wrong. Or that a U.S. senator was involved.

He let out a small laugh as he realized he couldn’t entirely blame him for that.

He was still standing there, in the middle of their living room, when Sylvia came in through the front door.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re here.” He put his arms around her, inhaled her familiar scent. “Where’ve you been?”

“Meeting a colleague for a drink. Just like you were.” Sylvia stepped out of his embrace and moved across the room.

“You didn’t mention you were going out.”

She didn’t look at him as she responded. “You didn’t ask.” She stood at the low counter that separated the room from the kitchen, her back to him as she dug through a pile of letters that lay unopened.

Adam shut his eyes for a moment, took a breath. “Okay. I need to talk to you. I’m going back to DC in the morning.”

Sylvia stopped her search and turned to him. “They asked you to go back? I thought the case was closed.”

“Not exactly.” He let out his breath. He had a feeling where this was going to go. “The case is closed. I’m just not so sure.”

“Does anyone else agree with you?”

Adam shook his head. “Nope. In fact, the lieutenant ordered me to stay out of it. Not to go back to DC.”

“You’re going to go anyway. Because you think you know better than anyone else.”

Adam shrugged. “I have to go back.”

With a sudden turn, Sylvia grabbed the letter opener from the counter and threw it at him. It bounced harmlessly off the sofa, but she exploded with violence. “The hell you do. You’ll piss people off. That’s the opposite of good for your career.”

“I don’t care about my career. Don’t you get it?”

“And I do. Don’t you get that?”

They both stopped, Sylvia with her hands on her hips, her eyes glaring, Adam with pleading in his.

“I have to go back. I think I know what’s going on,” he tried to explain.

“If you leave… if you screw things up…”

“What? What will you do?”

“I don’t know, Adam. I just don’t know.”