The bar seemed noisier that night. There was even music playing when the rock slid over and the three of them stepped out into the shadows. There were brightly colored neon signs flashing, and two burly policemen standing at the bar with mugs of beer in front of them.
Slade said softly, “s**t,” and Crackers looked up at him like he was asking, “Who, me?” Slade put his hand on the dog’s head, just as the dog’s lip started to curl. “He hates cops,” Slade whispered. “Let’s go, out the back. Renee can handle this, she and Charlie. Cops love Renee. She can outshoot them. And has boobs.”
Before they moved, Sky caught sight of a beautiful woman talking to the officers, and an ordinary if large man behind the bar. That must be Charlie, he thought, and then the man gave him a familiar wink. “Is t
