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The place was packed when we walked in, and there was a waiting list started. Breakfast time on a Sunday morning was not the best time to go to a popular restaurant.
“Sheriff Lawson,” a young woman said, coming over to us quickly. “Mr. Kirby is already waiting for you upstairs. We’re really honored to have you both here at The Big Over Easy. My name’s Carissa, and I’m the manager. Please let me know if there’s anything you need.”
Jack had never been one to use his position to get special favor or privilege, but it seemed like Kirby had no problem throwing his weight around.
Jack’s phone rang and he looked at the screen, showing me it was Doug on the line. “Let me take this really quick. It’s important.”
“Of course,” Carissa said and turned to me. “I can take you up if you’d like.”
“I’ll wait for my husband,” I said. There was no way I was going to be alone with William Kirby.
By the time Jack got off the phone with Doug we were more than ten minutes late, but I could see that whatever Doug had told Jack was important. Jack was almost bursting with it.
“This is going to be interesting,” Jack said.
We followed Carissa up the stairs and I saw William Kirby sitting at a corner table with a window view. His back was to the wall, which was where Jack normally would’ve sat.
Kirby got to his feet as we approached. “Thank you, Carissa.”
Carissa brightened, seemingly grateful and impressed he remembered her name. “You’re welcome, Mr. Kirby.” She put menus in front of me and Jack and then made a hasty exit.
The way Kirby watched her walk away made my skin crawl.
“I thought a man of your upbringing would be more punctual,” Kirby said in a scolding tone.
“Unfortunately,” Jack said. “My timeline is sometimes determined by the victim. It’s what the taxpayers pay me for.”
“We all know you don’t need the salary,” Kirby said. His smile was one of comradery and mischief, letting Jack know he was aware of how things really worked and that it was okay to take short cuts from time to time.
But Jack didn’t waver and he didn’t share in the smile. “But the integrity and expectation is there just the same. A man died. We owe him everything we can give him.”
“Hmm,” Kirby said. “Related to the case with David?”
“We can’t say at this point,” Jack said.
“Of course you can,” Kirby said, slapping his hands on the table impatiently. “I know all about your background.” His icy gaze landed on me. “Yours too. What do you know about David’s murder? If you’re too incompetent to discover his killer then maybe it’s time for someone else to take over.”
“Mr. Kirby,” Jack said, his voice smooth and easy. “I’m not sure what you thought this meeting would be. You agreed to come speak with us about your friends who were with you the night Sowers was killed. And if you really know anything about me, like you say you do, then you know you’re wasting your time and your breath with blustery threats. You do not impress me. And neither does your job at the state department. And unless you are just ignorantly unaware of the law, then you know threatening to take this case elsewhere is never going to happen.”
A dull flush of red crawled up Kirby’s neck until I thought his head might pop off, but then he leaned his head back and laughed. The politician in him oozed from his pores, and he knew expertly how to regroup when something didn’t go his way.
“I like you, son,” Kirby said.
I felt Jack stiffen beside me, and I knew things were about to get interesting. The waitress chose that moment to bring our food.
“I ordered for all of us since you were late,” Kirby said, flexing his importance again.
“I’ll just have coffee,” I told the waitress. “Black.” There was no way I could stomach any food sitting across the table from that scumbag.
“Make that two,” Jack said, holding up two fingers. “Who at the table Friday night has been with Sowers the longest?”
Kirby frowned, not liking that we’d rejected his order, but his face smoothed out as he thought about his answer.
“I guess that would be me,” he said, laughing. “We’ve been friends for a long time now. I can’t even remember how we met. But if you mean who’s worked with him the longest that would probably be his admin, Colby. I think he’s worked for David the last five years or so. David tended to have a high turnover in staff.”
“Because of his drug use?” Jack asked.
Kirby smiled again and cut into his steak and eggs. “I don’t know about any of that. But David was a demanding man. It’s why he was so successful. He would’ve had a heck of a career in politics if he wanted it. He and his first wife could’ve been in the White House.”
