As they left the restaurant and said their good-byes, Tommy’s eyes suddenly got big.

“Oh! I almost forgot!”

He dug a hand in the pocket of his jacket and came up with a small, gift-wrapped box, which he presented to Anne.

“That’s for you.”

Anne bent down next to him and accepted the gift with a soft smile. “Thank you, Tommy. How sweet of you! You didn’t have to bring me a present. Should I open it now?”

“No!” he said, blushing furiously. “Not until you get home.”

“Okay.” Anne leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I’ll see you Monday.”

She tucked the little box in her purse and walked down the plaza thinking maybe there was hope for humanity after all.

Chapter 74

74

“How do you usually spend your Saturday nights, Vince?” Hicks asked.

They were in the war room, a couple of boxes of decimated pizza spread out on the table in between stacks of files and reports. Dixon had remained at the hospital as Karly Vickers’s mother had finally arrived.

“Oh, well, Saturday nights I usually take the Concorde to Paris for dinner, then pop over to Monte Carlo for a little gambling.”

“Our tax dollars at work,” Mendez said.

“Seriously.”

“Seriously?” Vince thought back over the last year. Most of his Saturday nights had been spent in bed, recuperating. And before that? “Pretty much the same thing we’re doing here.”

“That’s grim, man.”

“I don’t have a wife. I don’t have a life. I’m the perfect man for the job. How about you, Detective Hicks?”

“The second Saturday of the month is jackpot calf roping at the rodeo grounds. I’m usually winning me some money right about now.”

“How about you, Tony?” Vince asked.

“Nothing special.”

“Sign that man up for the FBI.”

“Watch out, old man,” Mendez teased. “I’ll take your job.”

“You’re welcome to it, junior. I’ve done my time. I’m about ready to move on.”

“You? Quit the Bureau? No way, man. You’re a freaking legend.”

“I’ll trade places with you. I’ll move here and live the good life. You head east and take up the mantle.”

“If it was that easy . . .”

“You’d have to pay some dues, but hell, you’re young—as you keep reminding me.”

As if to punctuate the fact, his brain began to throb. He was about done in for the day, and odds were the pizza wasn’t going to taste as good the second time around. He dug in his jacket pocket for the pill bottle.

Antinausea. Antiseizure. Antipain.

He tossed them back and washed them down with cold coffee.

“You pop those things like breath mints,” Mendez said. “What are they?”

“Breath mints.”

“Bullshit.”

“Better living through chemistry,” Vince said, shrugging off the topic of his health. “What have you found out about the traffic stops?”