Page 39 of Mann Hunt
They sat for a moment in silence.
“Things have been a little crazy,” Charlie said.
“It’s not usually like that. Just so you know, sometimes I have to work weekends, but for you it’s a Monday to Friday job.”
“Good to know.”
“That is, unless I need you for some undercover work.”
Charlie’s mind immediately interpreted that asunder the coverswork.
“While I think about it, can I have your cell number? Just in case I need you,” said Declan.
“Sure. Give me your phone.”
Declan unlocked it and passed it over to Charlie who entered it and flagged it as a favourite.
Declan took a sip of his drink, then asked, “So, tell me about yourself. I don’t know anything about you other than what was in your application.”
“Well, I’m twenty-four years old and I live with my parents, who lead very unexciting lives. My dad sells insurance and my mom teaches grade three children how not to stuff things in their ears and up their noses.”
Declan laughed.
Charlie’s brain registered the question,Why am I telling him the truth?
“I have two close friends, and one’s my grandmother. I’ve never had a real boyfriend and I haven’t come out to my parents, which is pretty pathetic—I mean, what is this, the 1970s?—and I obviously have no self-esteem or fear of humiliating myself in front of someone who is basically an absolute stranger.”
Declan took another sip of his drink. “We really have to work on the whole self-esteem thing. What I’ve seen of you so far is an attractive young guy who really cares about people. Someone who can remain calm in a crisis, and is a natural at putting people at ease. You also have the patience to read manuals—something I have no aptitude for at all. You have all the skills I am lacking. I think we’ll make a great pair.”
“Well…”
“And you handled the interview with Katherine Mann beautifully.”
“I hope I didn’t talk too much?” Charlie asked.
“Not at all. You made everything seem like normal conversation. You’re a natural. Now—speaking of the Mann case—”
Charlie interrupted, “You said Stud-Cop and the Asshole are working on it?”
“Stud-Cop?” Declan laughed.
“Well, with that killer smile, and that basket… Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
“We’ve really got to find you a boyfriend.”
* * * *
Charlie picked through the remnants of a nacho plate. Declan stared into his empty glass. He was quite drunk, which made sense, given that he’d matched each of Charlie’s drinks with several of his own.
“Last weekend was the anniversary of her death,” he said to the glass, not making eye contact with Charlie.
“Your mother’s.”
“How did you know?”
“Gwen told me. She said it was probably tough coming so close to Mrs B’s heart attack.”
“What else did she say?”
