Page 11 of Rest In Pink

I pulled my basket back. “Why would I go to work for the police?”

She shook her head. “No, if you marry Vince—”

“Honest to God,” I said, swatting her hand away as she went for another fry. “Vince and I have no intention of getting married.”

“Very true,” Vince said as he slid into the booth next to me and took a fry. “How did that come up?”

“She’s wearing a dress,” Molly said. “For you. The least you could do is marry her.”

Vince pulled the top edge of my cardigan back to look at the ties on the shoulder of my dress. “Good. You follow instructions.”

“Molly wants me to marry you for health insurance and a pension.”

Vince shook his head. “The city health insurance is for the dogs. And the pension isn’t so great. Besides, you’re very capable of taking care of yourself.” He paused and looked at me. “Right?”

I signaled Kitty, who came over. “Please give Molly another basket of sides and get this man his meal. They’re mooching.”

“Tsk,” Kitty said, making it sound like tisk. “You need better friends and lovers, Liz.”

“Iknow,” I said, as both Vince and Molly took fries from my basket. Then Kitty left and I went back to the subject at hand. “Vince stopped Thacker for speeding.”

“Strip search?” Molly asked him around my fry.

“Not this close to dinner.” Vince looked at me, serious now. “You worried about health insurance?”

“No, Molly is worried about health insurance. I’m worried about Thacker.”

Vince nodded. “He checked in to the Shady Rest.”

“That should take care of him,” Molly said, and then Mac Blake sat down beside her, scooting her over with his hip.

“You’re looking very macho,” I said, given that he was still in his dark blue fireman’s pants and shirt withMacembroidered in red above the breast pocket.

“This is how I get all the chicks,” Mac said and took one of my onion rings.

I waved to Kitty and pointed to Mac, and she rolled her eyes and nodded.

“I need a favor,” I said to Mac.

“Go,” he said.

“You guys give away presents to kids at Christmas time, right?”

Mac nodded as he chewed my onion ring, looking hungrily at my basket.

“My mother has a teddy bear collection, all of them in mint condition with their tags. She would like to give them all to you for your Christmas giveaway.”

“It’s June,” Mac said, looking confused.

“You could store them.”

“How many bears are we talking about?”

“Less than four hundred.”

Mac narrowed his eyes. “How many less?”

“Eight. A lot of them are little. I’ll drop them off and—”

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