She laughed harder. It was a good sound. He found he was smiling.

“That’s better,” she said. “They’re up on points, but I’m used to losing. The difference is that I don’t quit when they’re ahead.”

Ted had to laugh. “So what’s next?”

“Steaks. It’s Tuesday night. Let’s see who shows up at Reisner’s table this week.”

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-42-

Ted tried—and failed—to imagine in which decade the facade of the restaurant would have been fashionable. There was a wagon wheel over the entrance and a vehicle on the roof that could have been a badly aged simulacrum of a buckboard. But the western motif didn’t hold up, as the front walls were covered with a faux stone patina, reminiscent of a poor man’s castle.

“I’ve never been here before,” Ted said. “Is it this cheesy inside, too?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Kenzie said. “It’s my first time, too.”

The Uber had dropped them on the far side of the broad boulevard, a short ways past the city line. A mild misting rain had set in, and Kenzie ran to the covered doorway of a used auto dealer showroom. Ted joined her and struggled to open an umbrella.

She was wearing a long-sleeved black dress with a scoop deep enough to reveal that there was no bra underneath. Her distinctive red hair was hidden under a straight black wig that hung to the middle of her back. She had ladled on the eyeliner. The shadows on her pale skin gave her an eerie, but intriguing, look.

“I’m on a date with Morticia Addams,” he said. “I wish I looked half as dashing as Raul Julia.” Ted had not bothered with a disguise, as he did not expect to run into anyone who might recognize him.

“You need a fedora,” Kenzie said. “You could pass for one of those private eyes in the old movies.”

“Philip Marlowe,” he said, doing his best Bogart impersonation. “I’m the shamus.”

She raised both eyebrows and shook her head, indicating incomprehension. Ted was crushed. First she didn’t like baseball, and now this. “Bogart,” he said. “The Big Sleep.”

“That’s a movie? It must be before my time.”

He pulled his battered ego upright. “Who’s supposed to show at this meeting? Will Reisner come?”

“The father? No. The head of the LBC empire can’t be bothered with small fry. We may see the son. He’ll bring a bagman. A lawyer or one of the midlevel managers.”

“And whomever they’re paying off,” he said.

“This is where it happens. City councilmen, county executives from all over the tristate, planning and zoning board members. Maybe a judge or two. We’ll just have to see what gets thrown up on the beach tonight.”