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“He might have guessed. He’s an asshole, but he’s smart. He knows I still do some work for you and took a flyer that’s why I was there.”
“Maybe. Could the killer have been the same guy from dinner?”
“Possibly, similar height and build. The shooter seemed taller, but it was dark and shit was happening fast. The car was different but taking a different car than your own to commit murder makes sense.”
“I don’t suppose you got any pictures?”
“No, I was in gunfight mode before I got the chance. I hate to say it, but this guy seemed like a pro.”
“How pro could he be if you're still talking about him?”
“He hit me in the dark with a short-barreled pistol that wasn’t his own while we were both moving. He’s either lucky or damn good.”
“You’re no slouch yourself. You think you hit him?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, it was dark and we were moving. I had ten rounds in the magazine and I fired them all.”
“So, we’ve got to find a pro before Ames pins this on us?”
“Looks that way.”
“Damn, Mal, you never make it easy.”
“Yeah, well, where do you want to start? A guy like Stone has to have a long enemies list.”
“It wasn’t a secret he was out of town. I’d say the target was Katrina.”
“Which would make the top suspect Stone himself. How long is he gone?”
“A week.”
“We’ll both be in jail by then.”
“Yeah, I guess we’re going to need to figure this out without him. If you did hit him and he is a pro, he won’t go to a hospital. Do you know where he could go to get stitched up?”
“A lot of ifs there.”
“We don’t have the option of pursuing sure things. Do you know or don’t you?”
“You seem to be implying I’m some sort of criminal. Remember, I got shot and went to you.”
“That’s because the other guys would expect you to pay them. Is that a yes or no?”
“I can make some calls, though discretion is what they pay these guys for. What are you going to do?”
“Find out who her date was. At the very least, he might know who wants to kill her.”
Chapter 6
“How’s my favorite bartender?”
“I’m no one's favorite bartender; bar owner, maybe, but this is a job for people with two hands.”
Margot smiled, “You seem to be doing okay.”
Lefty shrugged and went about pouring Margot a Maker’s Mark over ice. Since it was mid- afternoon on a weekday, Lefty’s was pretty much empty. There were only a couple of day drinkers sitting at the bar. Things were slow enough that Lefty himself was pouring the drinks. There were a lot of stories out there about how Lefty lost his left arm. None of them came from him and most likely none of them were true. He seemed to like it that way.
He put the drink in front of her, “I suppose you’re here for a favor.”
