The knock came at the front door.
Softer than Caldwell's. Softer than Brett's. The kind of knock a man uses when he's not in a hurry to be let in.
I crossed the hallway and looked through the peephole. Easton was on the porch with Penny beside him. A paper bag in his other hand. Uniform on.
I opened the door.
Penny walked in like she'd walked in many times before, which she hadn't, and headed for the kitchen at her own pace. Moose came off the rug to meet her. She let him sniff her shoulder and kept moving.
Easton lifted the bag.
"Got takeout for both of us."
I smiled before I meant to.
He caught it.
"Something wrong?"
I shook my head. "Nothing."
It probably was nothing.
CHAPTER 7
Easton
She was off the second she opened the door.
I'd been off shift since morning. It should have been a free day, but Duke had called me at noon with a problem he framed as a problem and an offer he framed as a favor.
"Ford. I need your truck and your back. Pinball machine."
"No."
"Twin Cities Solid State, 1981. Three hundred bucks. Guy in Coxsackie says it just needs love."
"Duke."
"You got a free day. I got a project. Be at my place in an hour. Wear shoes you can lose."
He'd hung up before I had a word for what he was.
By two, we had a three-hundred-pound steel cabinet on its side in the back of my truck. By three, we had it on its feet in Duke's basement and discovered the part of the description the seller had skipped, which was that the right flipper didn't lift. By four, Duke was crouched on the concrete cursing at the cabinet like it had insulted his mother, and I was on his couch, eating his last good orange and watching a grown man fail to fix something he had no business owning.
I checked my phone.
Duke looked up.
"Are you late for something?"
"No."
Duke set the screwdriver down on the concrete with a deliberate clink and wiped his hands on his jeans.
"That's the second time."
"It's a phone, Duke."
