30
Ray Doyle was wearing a hole in the sidewalk next to the bar. He checked his watch again. It wasn’t yet four, and his partner was always at least five minutes late for everything. That was unfortunate—Ray was only two or three away from heart failure.
Daniel had been gone for weeks. Ray had stumbled into the office the day after their confrontation in the alley to find their boss had received a request to temporarily reassign his partner. Romero was going undercover, and he wouldn’t be able to communicate for the length of his assignment.
Doyle knew that was bullshit. This whole situation was bullshit.
Ray pulled out a cigarette case, lit one, and took a deep drag. A woman at one of the tall tables near the entrance of the bar frowned at him as smoke drifted over her. He glared righ
