Final Justice (Badge of Honor 8)

To hell with this! I’ll just buy another T-shirt!

He tossed the T-shirt into a trash can and then took a long shower, considered again the gross injustices of the world as he found it, then had an inspiration.

“Screw her!” he said aloud, and when he got out of the shower, he walked still naked and dripping to the bedside telephone and called the concierge.

The concierge said the pro shop of the Lakewood Country Club would have clubs to rent and golf shoes for sale.

“And how about a tee time? As early as possible?”

“Well, perhaps tomorrow, sir. The rain’ll probably stop in time for the course to be playable tomorrow. Shall I reserve a tee time for you then?”

“I’ll be gone, I’m sorry. Thank you very much.”

Having the telephone in his hand reminded him of two calls he had to make, and he made them.

First he called Colonel Richards and told him he thought the peeper was the man they were looking for, and that an assistant district attorney was en route from Philadelphia. And then he called Sergeant Kenny and told him that he would be meeting whoever was coming from Philadelphia at the Mobile airport a little after noon.

“I think whoever’s coming will want to see the chief right away. Is he going to be available then? As soon as I can get from the airport to the station?”

“He’ll be here then, I’m sure.”

“If he needs to talk to me, you’ve got my cellular number.”

“Right,” Kenny said. “Mind telling me what you’ll be doing?”

Until that moment, Matt had no idea-since golf was out and it was raining-how he was going to spend the morning. But it came to him.

“I’m going to take statements from the colonel, the old guy…”

“Mr. Chambers Galloway,” Kenny furnished. “I’ll give you his number.”

“And anybody else… maybe Fats Gambino, if I have time on the way to the airport.”

Kenny chuckled, deep in his throat, reminding Matt of Jason Washington.

“That’ll make Ol’ Fats’s day. His place is right on Airport Boulevard, a couple of miles short of the airport. You can’t miss it. I wouldn’t suggest you tell him you’re coming.”

“And anybody else you think would be a good idea.”

“I’ll think on it, and tell you when you come in.”

“Thanks, Kenny.”

“My pleasure.”

Matt considered for a moment having a room-service breakfast, but decided against it, but not because of the thought he had on the way to the dining room, which was that after he ate a leisurely breakfast, he would call Detective Lassiter and suggest that if she was now awake, they had work to do. He would then meet her in the lobby, and she could have a McMuffin and canned orange juice for breakfast at the McDonald’s on their way to Daphne.

She came into the dining room a minute after he took a table, even before the waiter had brought coffee.

Jesus, that’s a good-looking woman!

“Good morning,” Matt said.

“Good morning, Sergeant,” Olivia said. “May I?” she asked, indicating a chair.

“Of course.”

He smiled at her. She smiled back, but her smile was a momentary curl of her lips, completely devoid of anything resembling warmth.