"I'm sure it can wait," Beth says.
"I was just--" I begin.
"It's late," she says firmly. "Eric deserves time off, and whatever your question, there's nothing he can do about it until morning."
"Right, I ... How about a drink? Both of you. Come out to the Lion and we'll--"
"Thank you, but no."
"I could use one," Dalton says. "You could, too, Beth. Casey? Run back and tell Will to join us after his shift. After. No cutting out early."
"Sure thing, boss," I say, and I'm out the door before Beth can argue.
A week ago, if Dalton had told me to make Anders finish his shift, I'd have thought he was being a jerk. Now I understand it's simply strategy. If Anders can't head straight to the Lion with me, then Dalton has an excuse for leaving Beth's--me drinking by myself at the Lion would be asking for trouble.
By the time I get there, he already has a table.
He's alone, and when I say, "Beth didn't come?" the flash of guilt in his eyes makes me regret commenting. I quickly say, "She's probably in need of a little alone time herself."
"Yeah. I didn't want to leave her last night. But another night on the couch? Hell, no." He stops and pulls a face. "That's inconsiderate, isn't it."
I slide into the seat across from him. "I don't think you're ever inconsiderate, Eric."
"You been drinking already, detective? I'm the designated local asshole, remember?"
"Someone has to do it. You recognize when you're being an asshole, which means it's not like you're too inconsiderate to know better."
"But if I recognize I'm being an asshole, and I still do it, doesn't that only make me more of one?" He rubs his face. "Fuck, I'm in a mood. You might not want to have a drink with me."
"Too late." I set two beers on the table, and open one.
"You got something to ask me? About the case?"
I take a long draft of my beer and then say, "Nope."
He chuckles. "All right. Yeah, I needed the break, so thanks. I'm just not good at the condolences shit. I want to be, but ... you know."
"I do."
We share a look. He nods and then says, "I'm going to Dawson City tomorrow. Get away. Clear my head. I'll be doing research, of course. You want to come with me?"
I arch my brows. "Pretty sure that's not allowed, boss."
"Fuck that."
I laugh.
"No, really, fuck that," he says, putting down his beer with a clack. "You're my detective. We have a serial killer. You need access to the Internet to do a proper job. Fuck 'em if they don't like it."
"You don't really mean that," I say, my voice low.
He shifts in his seat. Like a chained beast, rattling its shackles. "I'll tell Val. Tell her. Not ask. If she argues ... we'll see. But if you want to go ... No, fuck that, too, because if I give you the option, you'll worry that it'll get me in trouble. You're coming. It'll be an overnight trip. Back for the memorial. We'll leave at noon. We'll spend the morning at the station, let Will sleep, make sure nothing new comes in before we go."
"Yes, sir."
Dalton looks up. I see Anders walking over. When he's close enough, Dalton says, "Thought I told you not to cut out early on your shift."
"Fuck that," Anders says as he sits.