The Dead Years by Jeffrey B. Burton

Author:Jeffrey B. Burton [B. Burton, Jeffrey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2023-11-13T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SIX

‘Your pizzas are here, ma’am.’

‘I didn’t order any pizza,’ a tart voice replied through the hotel room’s locked door.

‘You still love anchovies, don’t you, Loris?’

‘Is that you, Mac?’

‘You’re the only person I’ve ever known who likes anchovies on pizza,’ David Macaulay spoke through his N95 mask. He stood outside Special Agent Loris Renn’s room at the Holiday Inn Express on North Wabash Avenue, holding two cardboard boxes. ‘I picked one up for you at Giordano’s; of course I had to order a normal sausage for myself.’

Agent Renn opened the door and took in her friend. ‘You’re all bundled up, aren’t you?’

Macaulay wore a black overcoat with the collar up, a gray scarf, Covid mask covering his face, as well as a Cubbies baseball cap. ‘I may watch too many spy movies, but I figured driving around town for pizza and dressing up like this would lose any tail I’d picked up.’

Renn smiled. ‘So who’s following you?’

‘To be honest, I’ve been scared shitless since that detective got killed.’ He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t want to lead anyone to your door.’

‘You must have got my text?’

‘It’s how I knew you were staying here.’

‘You should have called first?’

‘I worked late, hadn’t eaten yet, and thought this anchovy monstrosity would make for a pleasant surprise,’ Macaulay said. ‘But if you’ve got company,’ he slid one of the pizza boxes forward, ‘I’ll awkwardly hand you this and sneak away with my tail tucked firmly between my legs.’

‘Shut up, Mac.’ Renn stood to the side of the door and let him in.

‘But I got the sausage for me,’ Macaulay said. ‘You’re the weirdo that likes fish on their pizza.’

‘But I’m just taking one piece – an even trade.’

‘It sounds like we’re swapping baseball cards.’ Macaulay handed her a slice of sausage pizza but waved away Renn’s anchovy. The two sat at the circular table in the corner of the hotel room, next to the window. ‘Sorry I didn’t bring beer.’

‘Cokes are fine.’ Renn had run down the hall and returned with a couple of overpriced cans of soda and a bucket of ice. She looked at Macaulay and added, ‘Maybe beer next time?’

‘It’s a deal.’ Macaulay stuck out his hand and the two shook on it. ‘So have you fibbies got any new leads on the case?’

Agent Renn looked at him and said, ‘Nothing that’s letting me return home anytime soon.’ She continued, ‘I lost the battle with Surratt after the task force meeting the other day. He’s got me camped out here full-time under a fake name.’

‘Did you come up with Suzanne Nichols?’

‘Yes.’

‘Suzanne Nichols sounds like she writes novels for Harlequin.’

‘Don’t be such a smartass,’ Renn said. ‘Besides, I enjoy a good bodice ripper.’

Macaulay chuckled. ‘Anyway, I think your being here is a good idea. No risk of the bad guy following you from work.’

‘Yeah, but this place has got me climbing the walls.’

Macaulay glanced around the room as though seeing it for the first time. Renn had moved her laptop and corresponding cords off the corner table in order for them to eat.

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