I wouldn’t say a smile crossed Neil’s face—too strong of a description—but the glimmer of one perhaps. The sort of smile you could only see from the corner of your eye.
“I was driving by and saw you were open.”
“You don’t drive this way to work,” I replied.
He put his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“After last night.”
“Everyone has a moment of weakness,” I answered with a stiff upper lip.
Neil nodded. “I know.”
He didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t offer further insight.
The tension between us at that moment could have been cut with a knife.
Finally, Neil exhaled. “All right.”
“Fine.”
We kept staring at each other.
“Good talk,” I concluded. I started to leave.
“Sebastian, hold on.”
I looked at Neil again.
“Iseverything okay here?”
“Yes. Calvin even opened with me.” I cocked my head to the side and shifted focus, going from Point A to Point Q, as Calvin liked to say. “When you were collecting fingerprints from the Kinetoscope, you didn’t damage it, did you?”
“Oh hell, Seb. Do you think I got this job yesterday?”
Whatever sort of shaky truce there had been between us was gone just like that.
“No. I mean—the bottom corner looks to be loose.”
“The whole cabinet appeared to be wiped down,” Neil said, not really answering my question.
“Uh, yeah. I did that after Max and I moved it behind the counter.”
He frowned. “I only pulled a partial from the door.”
“Got a hit on it yet?”
“Nothing from AFIS,” Neil replied thoughtfully. Then he looked at me and held a hand out. “I’m not talking about an open investigation with you.”
“What about an ID on Dumpster Kid?” I continued.
Neil crossed his arms. “I know there’s nothing wrong with your hearing.”
“It’d be nice if you’d tell me.”
“So Winter can kick my ass seven ways to Sunday?”
