Ted was an admitted beer snob, but he could be flexible when faced with ignorance or prejudice. “That’ll be fine.”

The man drifted away and left Ted with his unanswered questions and a headache. Kenzie had been gone long enough. He couldn’t risk going to check on her; he might be seen and recognized. Two minutes more. And then what? Two more minutes? He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Jackie and Cheryl were returning to their table. He kept his face averted.

“Damn. Damn. Damn,” Kenzie announced as she threw herself into the chair facing him.

“They didn’t make you, did they?”

“No, nothing like that.” She spoke quickly, spewing words across the table. “But I saw the handoff. Those two bitches have no shame.”

“Slow down. Just tell me what you saw.”

She slugged down the remainder of the martini and spiked the glass on the table. The laws of physics must have been temporarily suspended. It didn’t break. “When I walked in, they were standing at the sink. They looked at me but didn’t react. I walked to a stall, and as I passed them, Cheryl made a show of reglossing her lips, and the other one made herself busy washing her hands. I sat on the toilet and watched through the crack around the door. You don’t get to see a whole lot that way. I wasn’t going to get a picture. But Jackie took a big envelope—it was folded over the long way—out of her purse and handed it to Cheryl like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they do this all the time. It disappeared into that ten-gallon tote she carries. They didn’t try to hide it. I don’t think they cared whether anyone saw them or not.”

“So, basically, we’ve got nothing. It was an envelope. It could have held newspaper clippings or recipes. We have no proof of any bribery.”

“Can we order?” she said with a tight, forced sigh. “I’m suddenly very hungry. And I want another drink.”

He could hear the defensiveness in her voice, but he really would have liked to have a video of what she’d seen. “A video might have helped.”

“You make it sound like I screwed it up.”

She was reading things all wrong. He was disappointed but not with her. “What? No. I’m pissed we’ve wasted our time—again—on another crazy idea.”

“Fine. How would you have handled it?”

“I’m not saying I would have done any better. It was . . .” He couldn’t think of what it was, but it wasn’t good.

“What? It was . . . what?”

“Shrimp cocktail?” The waiter set his offerings down before them.

“You ordered?” Kenzie did not need to add the words “without me.”

“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asked.