The Boy Must Die (41 page)

The two men rose, stretched, opened the door of the office. Butch notified the dispatch sergeant that he and Billy were out for lunch for an indefinite period. Walking into the grey air of the day, the men shrugged their shoulders and shivered. Two days of stifling heat turning to spring-like weather was not untypical for July. A moment later, they were in Butch’s cruiser, heading down Dawson and turning onto Bond, where Mac’s coffeehouse stood on the corner, its red sign over the front door swinging lightly in the cool breeze.

Butch drew into a space beside the back entrance. “You want to stay on stipend for a time?” he asked, pressing the button so that all the windows rolled up.

“I’m on call. That’s part of the deal, isn’t it?”

Butch grinned. “You’re the one in charge, Inspector. Let’s get a couple of Colombians and a cinnamon roll, buddy.”

Butch and Billy climbed out of the cruiser.

Funny, Billy thought, how things come full circle. And then he walked beside his old friend into the cool, coffee-laden air of Mac’s.