The Brit grinned, then she disappeared through the frosted doors and out into the cold night.
I watched the exit until I felt Clarke’s presence beside me. If I listened hard, I could hear her nerves and her quick pulse.
“Seems we’re both drinking alone now,” she said in a quiet voice.
I turned and looked up at her.
“Did you plan this?” I asked in suspicion.
“Always so paranoid,” she murmured.
I sighed and gestured to the chair Harding had so recently vacated. Clarke had found the time to change into a long dress, and in the low light, I could see the outline of her body through the material.
“Have you had an update on Rory Madden?” I asked her.
She sighed and shook her head as she studied me for a moment.
“You’ve never been good at leaving work at the office,” she noted. “But yes, I’ve had an update. He’s recovering in ICU. He’s stable. And PC Murray is going home tomorrow.”
Her bare knee bumped mine under the table. I caught a whiff of her rose-water perfume again, and I drank it in.
I should leave, I thought. I should get up, go home, eat real food, and have a proper night's sleep. I could pretend for a few hours that this whole day had been one long, bad dream.
“Another one?” I asked the redhead.
Clarke smiled widely, and her white teeth caught the light.
“Yes, please,” she said.
I sat back in my seat and signaled to the waitress. Clarke’s hand snaked towards mine, and I had to admit, it felt nice to make a human connection, even if it was just for a drink in an upscale bar. There would be time enough tomorrow to deal with the rest of the world.
End
Author’s Notes
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2020 Duncan Wallace
Blue Vengenance: A Logan Thorne DCI Scottish Detective Thriller Page 29