The Eighth Day

Chapter 40

Chad Dodd twisted in his seat and craned toward the entrance. Two men—one rotund and damn-near bursting the buttons of his dark suit, the other athletic, black-haired, and much younger—brushed past the maître d'. They ignored his greeting and angled toward the retinue seated at the tables. The maître d's shoulders slumped, and he hung his head. If he'd had a towel, he'd have thrown it in.

Jensen stepped into their path, and the rotund suit flashed a badge. "Detective Nat Francis, NYPD," he said. "This is Detective Ethan Mooney." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the younger man.

Jensen glanced at Chad and raised an eyebrow, and Chad gave a slight nod. Jensen stepped aside, and the two detectives converged on the table.

"Harrington," Francis said with a tip of his chin. "Long time no see. How's life?"

"It goes on."

Francis did a double take at the Alpha and Echo-7. "Who's the Weasley twins?"

Harrington cocked his head at Echo-7. "This one's Shawn Jaffe."

"No shit, huh?" Francis said. "Back from the dead. How's that work?"

Harrington shrugged.

"What about George over there?"

"I don't know." He glanced at Chad. "But I think he might."

"Is that so?" Francis asked.

Mooney reached inside his blazer and came out with a small, handheld electronic device that resembled an old-fashioned radio.

Chad frowned. "What the hell are you doing?"

Mooney waved the device over Echo-7, sweeping for bugs.

"Sir," Francis said, "I'm gonna need you and your friends to come with us to the station. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Stop," Chad said to Mooney.

Mooney chuckled. "Fat chance, pal."

"Maybe you're hard of hearing." Francis leaned into Chad's face. His breath reeked of yesterday's coffee. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but between you and me, I hope we do it the hard way. I'll ask one more time. I'll even do it real nice. Wipe that smug look off your fucking face, get your ass out of that chair, and come with me. Please."

Chad pulled an ID card out of his jacket and held it out to Francis. "How's this for smug?"

Francis took it. He frowned, and his face darkened.

Meanwhile, Mooney passed the bug detector over the nape of Echo-7's neck. Its LED lights glowed red, and it let out a squawk.

"Gotcha," he said.

"Well, detective?" Chad raised an eyebrow at Francis.

"You hear that, Francis? I found the bug."

Francis chewed on his bottom lip, inspected the ID, and said nothing.

"What's wrong?" Mooney asked.

"There's one smart move here, detective," Chad said.

Mooney glared at Chad. To Francis, he said, "We're bringing them in, right?"

Francis slumped.

Chad said, "Fat chance." He smiled. "Pal."