“Oh my God,” Wire replied, smiling ear to ear. “I wish I could have seen that prick squirm.”
They were sitting in the bar at the Marriott having a post dinner drink, or at this point a fourth post dinner drink. Wire’s two brothers and their wives joined them for a late dinner and Mac and Wire cryptically filled them in on the investigation. Not until her family left and they decided to have a nightcap in the bar, could they really talk about Connolly’s interrogation.
Mac took a look at Wire’s drink, “A White Russian now?”
“No, a Caucasian.”
“Ahh, the Dude abides.”
“The Big Lebowksi, top ten all-time movie,” Wire smiled. “Of course, I suppose you Minnesotans think Fargo is the Coen Brothers best.”
“Ya you betcha,” Mac answered in his best Margie voice. “I do like Fargo a lot but I’m a little more partial to No Country for Old Men. Javier Bardem is absolutely scary in that.”
Wire transitioned topics back to the election. “So like my brothers asked me, let me ask you, Mac McRyan, what’s it feel like to know you saved the election for Governor Thomson?”
“I liked your answer at dinner. It’s great to have figured that out but really this is about the murder victims. It’s about people like Sebastian or Gabriel Martin. We still don’t know who was really behind it; we don’t know who this Bishop is. Until we do, I won’t feel like I have complete closure on the murders. We won’t have justice.” The victims were always the priority for Mac. It was something Mac’s father used to say: we are the voice of the dead. Michael Mackenzie McRyan had taken that lesson to heart. That’s what being a homicide detective was all about—the victims.
“For the victims,” Mac toasted.
“For the victims,” Wire replied, returning the toast.
“Speaking of closure, did you mention this Bishop name to the Judge?” Mac asked.
“I didn’t,” Wire answered and then looked at her watch, which told her it was approaching 1:00 a.m. “But it’s too late now. I’ll give him a call in the morning and see.”
It was late.
“Dara, are you driving home?” Mac asked. She’d put away at least four more after her brothers left.
“Driving? No. I’ll take a cab home. Could you drive my Land Rover out to me tomorrow and I can drive you back in?”
“Sure,” Mac answered and took the keys from her.
Wire reached back in her purse and pulled out her wallet but Mac stopped her, “I’ve got this.”
“Mac, you bought dinner,” she protested. “And not just for me but my family, I can’t let you do that and buy the drinks. You’re going to be out like $800 tonight.”
Mac grinned sheepishly. “You know the chain of Grand Brew Coffee Shops in the Twin Cities?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen them around,” Wire answered, a questioning look on her face. “What about them?”
“Well, there are nearly two hundred of them in Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa. I own, or did own, fifteen percent of the entire business until this week. We sold it.”
“Oh my God,” Wire smiled. “You’re rich, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have to live check-to-check anymore, that’s for sure.”
“You’ve had a heck of a week.”
Mac smiled, “Indeed. So I think I can handle a night of dinner and drinks,” he said as he gave the bartender his American Express card. A minute later, the bar tab taken care of, he walked Wire out the front of the hotel and deposited her in a cab.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“It will be done.”
Monday, November 4th
Mac woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He pushed himself up and took a look at the clock radio on the nightstand, 9:34 a.m., a little under seven hours of sleep. More would have been better. He took a look at the display on the phone and it was Sally.
“Hey,” he said, groggy, his head pounding. He might have had a few too many. No, there was no might, he did have too many. He needed water, lots of water.
“Hey yourself,” Sally answered, all bubbly. “Rough night there, superstar?”
“Dinner and a lot of drinks with Wire and her family,” he replied. Mac sensed the excitement on the other end of the line. “What’s up, babe?”
“You really are just getting up, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, Sal, I was sleeping really well until you called.”
“Oh my God, you haven’t seen the polls yet, have you?”
Mac sat up and rubbed his eyes with his right hand and yawned. “No, honey, I haven’t.” He hunted around