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Helen looked up and turned her head, spotting Annie at the entrance.
Annie made her way to the counter. By the time she got there, Arturo had made her drink and brought it to her.
“Thanks,” Annie told him, then turned to Helen. “Hello.”
“Chief Weaver,” Helen replied, her expression neutral and her tone even.
Annie had always found Helen difficult to read. She wondered if she resented the fact that Annie now outranked her. “Are you here to see me?”
“Honestly, I hadn’t decided.” Helen sipped at her glass of red wine. She had a manila folder open in front of her, and when she saw Annie looking at the form on top, Helen closed it.
“Mind if I join you?” Annie asked. “Since you’re here.”
Helen paused to consider, then nodded. “All right.”
Annie pulled out the barstool next to Helen’s and sat down. Her heart was pounding. “Can I refresh your drink?” she offered.
“No, I’m fine,” Helen said. “Never more than one glass for me these days.”
Annie nodded and sipped her martini. Helen looked up at the television above the bar that was showing highlights of various games.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Annie said, “but I’m surprised to see you.”
“Honestly? My sister-in-law told me I should come talk to you.” Helen’s eyes never left the screen.
“How is Sal?”
Helen turned her attention to Annie, her eyebrows raised. Then she seemed to soften a little. “Right. Of course. She’s well.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“How are things going for you? I mean with your division?” Helen asked.
“Oh, they hate me,” Annie admitted. “Truly, utterly despise me.”
Helen pulled her wineglass a little closer. “You made an unorthodox entrance into our force.”
“More or less unorthodox than the last time I was here doing work for the LAPD?”
“They don’t know about that.”
Annie sipped her martini. “Give them time.” The alcohol on an empty stomach was having an effect. “I haven’t had dinner. Do you want to go get something to eat?”
“Well…”
Annie pushed a little. “I was going to have a drink, then walk down to the Mexican restaurant a few blocks away.” It was utter bullshit, of course, but she had tucked her ID and credit card into her back pocket along with her room key to leave her options open.
“Ah.”
“I know I sort of ambushed you before. I get that. But you’re here, which means…maybe I could tell you a bit more about what happened?” Annie was desperate to explain herself. Helen and her children deserved more than Annie disappearing into the night. Of all the terrible things she’d done in her life, abandoning Helen with no explanation was among the worst. She’d worked hard to get back to LA so she could make things right, and she was terrified she was going to blow it. Or that she already had.
“What happened?” Helen repeated softly. “What happened is you left, Annie.”
“I did,” Annie said, “and I’m not going to make excuses. But I think you deserve some answers all the same.”
Helen ran her hand along the front of her closed folder. “I could eat. Let me just pay my bill.”
“Arturo can just put it on my room tab,” Annie said. She finished her drink and slid off the stool, then caught Arturo’s attention and pointed to their glasses.
