“More’s the pity.” Leopold started pacing again. “Which brings me back to my original point. Why the hell does Jack want us here?”
“Like you said, he wants someone who’ll let him off on his own. Give him some leeway. And after the Santiago mess, he doesn’t trust the usual guys to get the job done.” He paused. “I guess he must have read about what you’ve been getting up to.”
“And why now? Why hire us for this? It’s the biggest event in the Seattle calendar. Secret Service are crawling around the place.”
“Maybe he’s trying to prove something. He is running for office, after all. Sending a message to the voting public. A message of strength, maybe.”
“Or maybe he has something to hide. Or maybe he just thinks he can push us around. Whatever the reason, it’s foolish. The Secret Service is better equipped to keep him safe.”
“Speaking of which, we’re due a visit.”
Leopold heard the elevator chime. “Speak of the devil.”
Two men appeared from around the corner. Ugly black suits, white shirts, blue ties. A look of irritation on their square faces. Clean-shaven, cropped dark hair. They could have been twins.
“Welcome to the party,” Leopold said. “Things are just getting heated up.”
The agent on the left ignored him. “We’re here for Mr. Melendez’s detail,” he said. “Weak spots are the doors and elevator. We’ll take point.”
“I need a goddamn drink,” Leopold said. “You three can handle this.”
“You’re on duty,” said Jerome.
“I’m also the one in charge here.” He saw the two agents open their mouths to speak. He cut them off. “Whatever Harper might have told you, this is a civilian operation. You two are here to support. And I’m telling you I need a break. I need to think.”
Jerome grunted. “Just stick to the soda. Be back up here in thirty minutes, or I’ll send Chuckles and Fizzbo here down to get you.”
The agents looked puzzled.
“Code names,” Leopold said. “I’m sure you understand, Chuckles.” He paused, looking at the agent on the right. “Or maybe you’re Fizzbo.” He turned to leave. “Work it out between yourselves.”
He took the elevator. Hit the lobby, headed straight for the bar. Took a seat near the taps. Ordered a Coke. The barman brought him a glass with ice, a bottle of cola. Leopold poured the contents into the glass and drank it down. Ordered another. There was movement behind him, so he turned.
“Take it easy on those,” a female voice said.
Leopold smiled. Patricia Johnson stood a few feet away, smiling back. She was dressed in dark jeans, heels, a fitted shirt and slim jacket. She had let her hair down. It came a little past her shoulders, dark and flowing.
“I can quit any time I like,” said Leopold. He motioned for her to join him at the bar. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s after six,” she said. “I’m off the clock. I felt like a drink.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Bad day?”
“Let’s just say this line of work isn’t exactly my forte.”
She waved the bartender over. “You don’t say.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“The other guy seems to know what he’s doing.” She looked up at the barkeeper. “I’ll have a Bombay Sapphire and Tonic. Diet.”
The bartender nodded. Fetched down a bottle of gin, poured a measure over ice. Handed her the glass with a small bottle of tonic water.
She took a sip. “Thanks.”
“I’ll have the same,” Leopold said. “No ice.”
“Aren’t you on duty?”
“You going to tell on me?”
Johnson smiled. “I haven’t decided yet.” She changed the subject. “You enjoying Seattle?”
“Kinda wet.”
“Yeah, we get that a lot.” She laughed and ran one hand through her hair. “You get used to it.”
“You got any family here?”
Johnson didn’t reply for a moment. “Yeah,” she said, eventually. “My parents died a few years ago, but my son…” She trailed off. “Anyway, enough about me. You got family in town?”
He shook his head. “It’s just me. My parents died too.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
Leopold looked her up and down. “You were waiting for me to show up, weren’t you?”
“What gave you that idea?”
He grinned. “You went home to get changed. Came back here, waited until I arrived to order a drink. Are you stalking me, Officer Johnson?”