He took a seat at the bar next to an older couple drinking tall blue concoctions. “What’s that?” he asked the bartender, pointing to their drinks.

“That’s a famous NOLA Hurricane.”

When in Rome… “I’ll try one of those.”

The bartender served up the drink. “First-timer?”

“How’d you guess?”

“You gotta look to ya.”

Jake laughed. “I suppose I do. Hey, do you know a guy named Tom Rosa? I think he works here, or he used to.”

The guy’s expression immediately sobered. “He used to work here. He’s got a bad cancer. Not expected to live much longer.”

That news shocked Jake. “Oh no. I hadn’t heard.”

“Yeah, came on outta nowhere, and next thing we knew, he’s in hospice.”

“He’s an old friend. Do you know where I might find him?”

“I’ll ask the manager if he has his address.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

While the bartender went to find the manager, Jake sat back to absorb the news about Tom. He sent off a text to Joe. I’m at the bar Norm sent me to in NOLA, looking for Tom. Just heard he’s dying of cancer. Going to try to see him tomorrow.

Oh no. That’s terrible. He can’t even be 65, right?

Yeah, about that. He was a couple years older than us.

I’ll say a prayer for him and his family.

Joe was a good man. Perhaps the best man Jake had ever known, and that was saying something with Skip Holland in the mix. But even Skip would’ve said that Joe was the best of them all. That was why Jake would have Joe’s back for as long as he needed a wingman watching out for him, especially now that Skip was gone.

Jake took comfort in Jeannie McBride being elevated to deputy chief. She was an outstanding cop and a great person. She’d make for an excellent partner to Joe in the chief’s suite. But Jake would stick around to keep an eye on things from the lower ranks, where he served as the chief’s eyes and ears.

He sipped the sweet, strong drink and perused the menu while he waited for the bartender to return.

“The manager says he’s not comfortable giving Tom’s address to a stranger.”

Jake looked up at the young man. “I understand.” He removed his badge from his pocket and put it on the bar. “We worked together at the Metro PD in Washington, DC. Could you tell your manager I’m an old friend looking to see Tom before he passes?”

“Sure, I’ll tell him.”

While the young man went off to deliver the message, Jake took another sip of his drink. If this was the drink of NOLA, no wonder everyone had such a good time here. The stuff was potent.

“You’re a cop in DC?” the lady sitting next to him asked.

“That’s right.”

“Do you know the first lady?”

“I’m her boss.”

“Oh my gosh! No way! Larry, he’s the first lady’s boss! What’s she like? Is she as cool as she seems on TV?”