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“I thought I told you to be careful!”
“I was.”
“No more,” Koch said firmly. “It must not happen again.”
“What is the harm?”
Bayer looked at him, and when Koch did not answer Bayer grinned, then leaned forward.
“I think that I can get her friend the redhead for you as a date.”
Koch ignored him.
“What we are going to do,” he said as a matter of fact, “is stick with our original plan but wait at least an extra three, four days to see what Cremer and Grossman do—or what gets done about them and their work.”
“Fine.” He shrugged and cut another piece of pancake. “I have something to fill my time.”
Koch’s eyes narrowed. Steam practically came out of his ears.
Koch thought, This whole time we’ve worked well together as a team—but bring in one lousy piece of ass…
“I’ll be in the room,” he said, sliding out of the booth. “We will continue this conversation there.”
Bayer watched Koch’s back as he went to the door and through it, then disappeared down the sidewalk in the direction of the hotel.
He made a face, then looked back at his plate and saw that he wasn’t nearly finished.
What the hell. I’ll take my time and eat in peace.
He held up his coffee cup for the waitress to see.
She came and refilled it, and his water, collected Koch’s plate and cup, and left the check on the table.
Bayer cut another piece of pancake and went back to reading the newspaper.
He did not really understand why Koch was so concerned about the explosions in Texas and Oklahoma. The other team of agents was having significant success with blowing up things and creating general disorder. That was what they had all been sent to do. Granted, not with such big bombings, but nevertheless…
He shook his head and turned the page.
He came to a full-page advertisement for Bamberger’s Department Store that showed new women’s spring fashions. The light-haired young model wore a very flattering formfitting blouse and it took no effort whatever for Bayer to picture Mary in it. He smiled, and with that warm mental image turned the page.
Ten minutes later, he had finished with the pancake and washed it down with coffee.
He reached into the right pocket of his pants and dug around for the roll of cash that he had bound with a rubber band. All he came up with, though, was the rubber band and a fistful of coins.
Damn! All my cash went to pay for the room and Mary!
After hearing about her money woes, he had advanced her almost a week’s worth of cash so that she could buy time with the club owner—and time that they could spend together.
He grabbed the check, looked at the total, then quickly counted the coins in his hand.
Just enough, but almost no tip.
As quietly as he could, he put all of the coins on top of the ticket and slipped toward th
e door, avoiding the waitress and anyone else.
Koch was sitting on his unmade bed in their room on the fourth floor. Bayer’s bed was still the way he had left it the night before, although now there were the two duffel bags on it.
