Ghosts In the Heart. Michael J.D. Keller

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СКАЧАТЬ shot a mildly critical gaze at her husband who tried to evade it with a burst of infectious enthusiasm.

      “Pizza!” he said. “There is a great place we know over in Sausilito and we are going for pizza.”

      “And you needed my permission before you could leave the city?” Mckenzie tried to maintain a wearily dry tone, but he found himself unable to suppress a smile.

      They had moved into the apartment and Peter was closing the door when he broke into a laugh. “Listen to that. A joke from Lieutenant Alexander Mckenzie. Who says you don’t have a sense of humour?”

      Brenda linked her arm with Mckenzie and smiled sweetly. “Not a very funny joke but still a good start.”

      “No, we didn’t come to get your permission. We came to get you.” Peter was smiling but some of his prosecutor’s determination still echoed in his voice. “We know what time you left the precinct so you haven’t had time to have dinner. You need to come with us and get something to eat.”

      Mckenzie tried to shake his head; a preface to rejecting their invitation, but Brenda cut him off.

      “You might as well give up and come with us, Alex. It’s the only way you are going to get us out of your apartment.”

      The Stewarts had won again. Mckenzie conceded defeat. “All right, all right, I’ll go. Brenda you need to have that baby so you can get someone else to mother.” Brenda Stewart put her hand on her slightly expanded stomach as her husband’s expression gleamed with pride. “You still have a while to go yet before you can get off the hook.” Alex again shook his head with a bemused acknowledgment. “I’ll get my jacket.”

      In his bedroom, Mckenzie retrieved a brown leather jacket from his closet. He picked up his official identification and cell phone from the drawer where they were stored. He looked for a moment at his service pistol in the shoulder holster before deciding against it. He still had the back-up 38 in the ankle holster. That should be enough fire power for a visit to a pizza parlour - even in Sausilito.

      CHAPTER 3

      He leaned his head back against the soft plush fabric of the Escalante’s rear seat. The large vehicle felt like a moving rocking chair as Peter wheeled, turned, and deftly maneuvered the SUV through the early evening traffic. The orange glow of the Golden Gate Bridge loomed in the darkness, and Peter speeded toward that iconic symbol with a facile ease born of experience.

      “Peter you own what must be one of the most politically incorrect cars in San Francisco.”

      “Yeah,” Stewart chuckled in response. “I really love the expression on the faces of all the Prius drivers when I roll into the parking lot.” A note of seriousness momentarily crept into his voice. “Besides, my child is going to be riding in this car in a few months. I’d put armor on the damn thing if I could.”

      Now it was Brenda’s turn to laugh. “Doesn’t my husband sound wildly overprotective, Alex?”

      Mckenzie closed his eyes and for a split second an image filled his mind. A dark green Renault swerved off a narrow country road. As it tumbled wildly down a steep slope toward a deep tree lined depression, it rolled completely over before crashing to a sudden stop. Flames leaped uncontrollably from the ruptured gas tank and the car erupted into a blazing fire ball. Mckenzie shook his head trying to expel a vision of an accident he had not actually seen. It was one he had imagined ; one that filled his worst nightmares..

      “No, Brenda” he replied softly. “I don’t think he is being overprotective. Cars wreck sometimes.”

      A capacity for boundless empathy guaranteed that Brenda Stewart would always be a uniquely effective nurse. It also meant that she would regularly carry home more residual distress than her less sensitive colleagues. In this case it allowed her to sense the repressed emotion in Mckenzie’s voice. She turned her head to look back over her shoulder at their passenger.

      Glittering street lights and the fluctuating beams from passing cars created a kaliadiscopic effect in the darkened rear seat. It was like watching a damaged print of an old movie. The jerky frames alternatively illuminated and then concealed the expression on his face. There had been real emotion in his voice, but nothing in his expression reflected it. His impassive mask had dropped back into place.

      Brenda sought to restore the good natured levity that had somehow been lost. “Men!” Her voice had a jesting levity. “When it comes to your toys, you all stick together.”

      Damn, Mckenzie thought. She heard me. She really heard me. Evidently, the ability to read subtle personality shifts was not limited to an experienced police detective. Mckenzie’s legendary investigative skills had been built on his intelligence, a shrewd power of observation, and a near clairvoyant insight into the personality of those he interrogated. Tonight it appeared that a young nurse had some of the same skill. The protective wall so long in place, shielding his privacy from an unwelcome world had cracked. Brenda Stewart had seen through it. Affection had lowered his guard in a way that hostility never had.

      Mckenzie looked with apparent interest out the window hoping that action would serve as a distraction - give him a moment to reconstruct his polished exterior. They were on the bridge now and in the distance the twinkling lights of the town of Sausilito were visible. Once a working class industrial and fishing community, the town had changed dramatically over the years. These days it was more of an artistic and touristy enclave. Gangsters and actors, artists of all types, poets and philosophers, even cartoonists had all lived there. Otis Redding had written Dock of the Bay on a houseboat on the waterfront. Now it reputately had become a center for some of the best restaurants in the Bay area. Mckenzie could not verify the last point. His world had contracted sharply in recent years. He rarely left San Francisco or ate in restaurants. A broader existence lived only in his memory and his imagination.

      “You will like this place, Alex” Peter assured him. “Its run by an old friend of mine from law school.”

      Pause, let the beat happen and then respond. “A restaurant operated by a lawyer. I can’t wait.”

      “Oh, sarcasm. Listen to that Brenda. No respect for the legal profession.”

      Brenda laughed and again turned her head to look back at Alex. In the headlights of the passing car, she saw him wink at her.

      “Don’t worry Alex. Peter’s friend, Mathew, is only the business manager. His wife Sandra runs the kitchen.

      “I am definitely relieved.”

      Peter smiled as he steered toward the waterfront. Why did those idiots of the Police Department and the Prosecutor’s office all think Alex Mckenzie was humourless, he wondered. His sense of humour was sardonic, and more than a little subtle, but it was there. Mckenzie used his wit to amuse himself not others whose approval he did not value. It was a compliment to both Brenda and to him that Mckenzie allowed them to glimpse the fire that burned behind his stony exterior.

      The Escalante came to a stop outside an unimpressive weathered wooden structure that fronted the bay. Looking across the water, the lighted shapes of the San Francisco skyline dominated by the dramatic upward thrust of the Transamerica Pyramid drew the eye. From this perspective, familiar shapes, structures seen daily could seem cloaked in a magical aura of dreams.

      Mckenzie slid out of the SUV’s back seat and opened Brenda’s door before Peter could walk around the vehicle. He held out his СКАЧАТЬ