11
He was annoyingly punctual. At exactly the stroke of noon, Liam drove up, not the police cruiser she expected but in a modest little car. It was black and serious and shiny. Becky was surprised. She was locking up the store, planning to wait on the steps for him.
“That’s what you drive?” Becky asked.
“When I’m not working,” Liam said. “I would say you can drive, but I don’t trust your car.”
Becky had just spent the morning with Mickey, and all Mickey wanted to talk about was the fact that she’d had Liam over the night before. Becky had tried to convince the older woman that nothing had happened, but Mickey was strong willed and only believed what she wanted to believe. She’d had two cups of Mickey Dunner’s Magical Coffee, and she still needed more.
“You take that back. Jimmy did no
