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It was tempting. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know what my next move would be, but it would definitely be something I couldn’t do with Rudy watching.
“I’m better on my own, thanks.” I turned to Jin Chu. “What’s ZAFO?”
“Suck a dick!”
“Get out,” Rudy said to me. “Come back if you want protection.”
“Fine, fine,” I said.
—
Hartnell’s had its usual crowd of quiet, borderline alcoholics. I knew each of them by face, if not name. There were no strangers that day, and none of the regulars even glanced my way. Business as usual at my watering hole.
Billy poured me a pint of my usual grog. “Aren’t you on the run or somefin’?”
I wiggled my hand. “Kind of.”
Was Alvarez the only thug O Palácio had in town? Maybe. Maybe not. I mean, how many people would you assign to your lunar mafia money-laundering operation? At least I knew one thing: They couldn’t have sent anyone new. Not yet. It takes weeks to get here from Earth.
“Is it wise to come ’round your favorite pub then?”
“Nope. It’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. And that’s a field of intense competition.”
He threw a towel over his shoulder. “Then why?”
I swigged my beer. “Because I made a deal.”
Billy looked past me to the entrance and widened his eyes. “Cor! There’s a face I haven’t seen in an age!”
Dale walked up to his old stool next to mine and sat down. He grinned from ear to ear. “A pint of your worst, Billy.”
“On the house for ya!” Billy said. He filled a pint for Dale. “How’s me favorite arse bandit?”
“Can’t complain. Still do, though.”
“Har!” He slid the pint to Dale. “I’ll leave you two hatebirds alone.”
Dale sipped his beer and smirked at me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show.”
“Deal’s a deal,” I said. “But if someone shows up to kill me I might need to leave early.”
“Yeah, about that. What’s going on? Rumor has it you’re tangled up in the murders.”
“Rumor’s right.” I drained my glass and tapped it twice on the bar. Billy slid me another—he’d poured it in advance. “I was the next intended victim.”
“Rudy caught the murderer, right? The news sites say it’s some Portuguese guy?”
“Brazilian,” I said. “Doesn’t matter. They’ll just send another one after me. I’ve got a short break at best.”
“Shit, Jazz. Is there anything I can do?”
I stared him in the eyes. “We’re not friends, Dale. Don’t worry about me.”
He sighed. “We could be. In time, maybe?”
“I don’t see it happening.”
