Don't Order Dog_ 1(151)

Connolly tensed noticeably at the question. “You don’t have the authorization to know that information.”

Alex smiled. “Oh no? I’ll bet you a short call to the Deputy Secretary of the State says that I do.”

Connolly glared at him silently. “Shafer... Robert Shafer,” he replied quietly, a slight frown creasing his face. “But back then everyone called him by his codename.”

“Which was?”

“Shepherd.”

“And where can I find this Shepherd?” Alex demanded.

“You can’t,” Connolly answered, shaking his head slowly. “He’s dead. He was killed in a car accident nearly thirty years ago.”





54.




Tom Coleman parked along the side street outside of Joe’s Last Stand Saloon and quickly paced the empty sidewalk along Historic Route 66 towards the entrance. He shoved his hands into his pockets and shivered at the cold. It was just before noon and a cloudless, sapphire-blue December sky stretched overhead, creating a false impression of warmth. Looking ahead, Tom noticed a heavily-dressed utility worker preparing to check the power lines on the electrical pole in front of him. A second worker, broad shouldered and much taller than his colleague suddenly stepped out from the side door of the utility van parked in front of the saloon. The worker glanced over at him and nodded, his face hidden behind a thick scarf. Tom nodded in return as he reached the door, barely noticing the man’s blue eyes as he ducked inside.

As expected, the saloon was nearly empty. Chip sat in his regular spot at the bar, quietly talking with another man. He noticed Tom and gave him a friendly wave. Tucked in her corner behind the counter, Jeri glanced up and shot Tom a brief look of annoyance before returning her attention to the book cradled in her hands. Tom walked towards the two men sitting at the bar, noting with a sense of relief that Joe the owner wasn’t around.

“Well, speak of the devil. I was just talking about you,” Chip said warmly with a wide smile as he walked up to the bar. “Tom, say hello to my new friend Max… a kindred spirit who likes drinking as often and as early as I do.”

Tom grimaced at the smell of Chip’s breath. He’d never seen the older man this drunk before. He gave him a weak smile before extending his gloved hand to the man sitting next to him. “Tom Coleman.”

“Hi, I’m Max Delaney,” the man replied politely. “Here, take my seat.” As he rose to move to the next barstool, Tom couldn’t help but notice Max’s sheer size.

Tom thanked him and sat down between the two men. He methodically removed and folded his gloves before tucking them into his coat pockets, then carefully laid a few clean napkins on the bar to rest his hands on. Next to him, Chip watched silently with a mocking grin.

“You’ll have to forgive ol’ Tom here, Max. He’s a bit of a germaphobe.”

The large man shrugged his broad, muscled shoulders. “That’s just fine by me,” he said quietly. “You never know what you might come in contact with these days.”

“Good point,” Chip conceded. He peered down the bar at Jeri.

“Jeri, can I buy a round of drinks for my two friends?”

Jeri nodded without taking her eyes off her book.

Tom looked at the older man with surprise. “You want to buy me a beer? This must be a special occasion.”

Chip patted him on the shoulder. “Oh that’s right, you didn’t hear the news, did you?”

“What news?”

“I meant to tell you yesterday, but you snatched that letter from the wall and flew out of here before I could even turn around and say hi. By the way, why were you in such a damn hurry?”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Tom said with a dismissive shake of his head. “What news?”

“It’s a good thing Joe isn’t here,” Chip continued, a wide grin stretched across his face. “Christ, he’d probably hang you from the rafters.”

“For fuck sake, Chip – what’s going on around here?”

“Oh that… yeah. Well, you see, it’s Jeri’s last day.”

“What?” Tom said, glancing over at Jeri as she stood pouring their beers from the tap. “Is that really true? Today’s your last day working here?”

“Yep,” Jeri replied. She walked the beers over to the three men and placed them on the counter, her amber-brown eyes locked coldly on Tom. “Anything else you’d like to ask me?”

“Well…well yeah,” Tom stammered, caught off-guard by the news. “I mean, what are you planning to do?”

“I’m planning to get out of here for a while,” Jeri answered, narrowing her eyes on him. “There’s just a little too much attention being focused on me right now.”