“You shouldn’t be driving, Leek.” Decker shook his head. “Not safe for you or other motorists. Tell you what I’m going to do for you. It’s an off-hour right now for lunch. Let’s find a quiet place where you can sit and catch your breath. And to show you what a sport cops can be, I’ll buy you some herbal tea.”

30

Since Decker was feeling benevolent, he let McKay pick the place. The muscleman directed him to a health-food grocery with nature’s wholesome goodness stenciled on the front window. The interior reminded Decker of a general store of yore—bins of whole grains, dried fruits, and unprocessed sugar and flour. It also had a good-sized produce section, many of the fruits and vegetables untrimmed or uncut. The lettuce looked freshly yanked from a garden, clumps of dirt still clinging to the large green leaves. The only nod to modern times was a back-wall dairy case. On the opposite side of the entrance stood a bakery—sweet smells emanating from the back. In front of the bread counter were a few sets of tables and chairs. McKay took a seat and lowered his head in his hands.

Decker sat beside him. “Place smells good, Leek, but it’s not very private.”

McKay looked at Decker, then covered his face again.

“Place have waitresses?” Decker asked.

“You order at the counter,” McKay mumbled.

“What’s your pleasure, Lawrence?”

“How about some solitude and a bed?”

“How about some peppermint tea?”

McKay dropped his hands to his lap and smiled sickly. “Chamomile.”

Decker stood and came back a minute later, carrying two cups of tea and a cinnamon bun. He sat back down. “I brought you some munch food. It smelled good.”

“You eat it.” McKay took the tea. “I’m sick to my stomach. I woke up feeling that way. Thought I could beat it. I was wrong.”

“So your illness has nothing to do with my visit?”

“Your visit isn’t a boon to my health. What do you guys want from me?”

“How about we start with your investment-counseling sideline. Did you promise all the old ladies trips to Hawaii? Or did you individualize, with a different scam for each one?”

McKay stared at Decker, a gray pallor washing over his cheeks. Decker reached into his pockets and took out a small tape recorder. “Sometimes I use a notebook. But sometimes I use this. Do you mind?”

The bodybuilder’s eyes drifted to the cassette player. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Are you charging me with anything?”

“Not yet. But if you say something incriminating, I can use it against you.”

Again McKay was quiet.

“Up to you, Leek. Call your lawyer if it’ll make you feel better. We can make the questioning as formal as you want.”

Leek sipped tea. “If I call some lawyer, it becomes like a serious thing, huh?”