Deadly Stillwater: A gripping crime thriller (Mac McRyan Mystery Thriller and Suspense Series Book) (McRyan Mystery Series Book 3) by Roger Stelljes

Author:Roger Stelljes [Stelljes, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Roger Stelljes
Published: 2014-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

22

“You’re a drop dead gorgeous woman, with a fantastic body, a great mind, and impeccable timing.”

10:45 p.m.

Mac pulled in behind the bar and noted that it was a slow night for the other family business: McRyan’s Pub, a true St. Paul institution. The pub sat on West Seventh Street, just on the outskirts of downtown and one block from the Xcel Energy Center, home of the NHL’s Minnesota Wild. It was the favored watering hole of hockey fans and the St. Paul Police alike, not to mention the single largest employer of ex-cops in the city.

As the window over the front door indicated, the pub was established in 1907. Opened by Mac’s great-grandpa Patrick, the pub had a colorful history of serving drinks before, during, and after Prohibition. During Prohibition, they had been served in the now-infamous Patrick’s Room. Located in the basement, Patrick’s Room lay behind a hidden door disguised as a built-in wooden buffet, the type you would find in any older St. Paul Home. A latch inside the middle drawer of the buffet pushed the door into a large party room. During Prohibition, the police, politicians, citizens, and even notorious criminals like John Dillinger sat together, knocking back illegal drinks and having a good time.

Today, the inside of Patrick’s Room was adorned with black and white photos of that bygone era, while a plaque outside described the room’s infamous history. These days, the hidden room was used for private parties, meetings, and the occasional cop poker game.

Mac walked in the back door and stepped left into the main level of the pub. A classic old-fashioned bar—massive stretch of mahogany with a brass rail—ate up half of the length and breadth of the room. Behind the bar were the typical bottles and taps and a long mirror with “McRyan’s Pub” stenciled across it, along with the Minnesota Wild Logo, a badge, and a shamrock. On most nights, this part of the bar was full of cops having a bump after a shift, happy to have made it through another tour, swapping war stories and telling lies. Tonight there were a few hanging around, but things were eerily quiet, voices in a hushed murmur. Nobody was in a happy, celebratory, or terribly talkative mood.

Mac made conversation for a few minutes with the bartender, a retired patrol cop, until Uncle Shamus walked in. Shamus, a retired St. Paul detective, was the pub’s current proprietor.

“Michael,” Shamus said, coming over to give his nephew a big bear hug. “Boyo, let’s get you something to drink and go down to Patrick’s. I’ve got food on the way, whatever you and the boys need.”

“Thanks, Shamus,” Mac replied, looking longingly at the beer taps. He was dying to have one—a Grain Belt Premium or a Schells, his current favorites. Instead he had the bartender mix him a tall Arnie Palmer, which, while not a beer, would be cold and refreshing nonetheless.

Shamus led Mac down the stairs and past a small game room, which was currently occupied by two regulars playing pool.

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