Curse of the Jade Lily (Mac McKenzie #9)

Curse of the Jade Lily (Mac McKenzie #9) Page 49

“A romantic?”

“A man. An honest to God adult man.”

I nodded. Somewhere in there was one of the best compliments I had ever received. It wasn’t true, of course, what she said about me. If it hadn’t been for Nina, I probably would have acted like all the other men in Heavenly’s life. She didn’t need to know that, though.

“Maybe if you…” I said.

“Maybe if I what?”

“My mother was very beautiful. She died when I was just a kid.”

“Oh, McKenzie, I’m sorry.”

“One of the few things I remember about her, she used to say, ‘Pretty is as pretty does.’”

Heavenly snickered at that. “It’s easy to have morals when you’re rich,” she said.

“Do you think people buy them off the shelf at Neiman Marcus? Besides, my mother wasn’t rich. She was a middle-class housewife living in Merriam Park.”

“Is this a teaching moment, McKenzie?” she asked. “Are you trying to teach me a lesson?”

“You didn’t come here just to get slapped, did you?”

“I wanted you to know that I was sorry about what happened last night and that—that I didn’t mean you any harm.”

“I asked you before if you knew who stole the Jade Lily, when we were in the van, remember?”

“I remember.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Last night didn’t teach you anything, did it, Heavenly?”

“I’m still going after the Lily, McKenzie. Don’t try to stop me.”

“Heavenly, you’re alone.”

“The story of my life.”

“C’mon, give it up, please.”

Heavenly set two fingers on the fifty-dollar bill and slid it across the table to me.

“I can take care of myself,” she said.

A few moments later, she was gone.

A few moments after that, Nina joined me in the booth.

“Well?” she said.

“Some people never learn,” I told her.

NINE

Lunch was a walleye po’ boy for me and a baby beet and apple salad for Nina. Rickie’s had one of the best menus in town courtesy of her chef, Monica Meyer, a temperamental young woman who once worked for Wolfgang Puck. I liked to tease her because, well, she was so teaseable. If Monica had been there, I probably would have said something about going to Taco Bell to get some real food, but she wasn’t, so I said, “This is fantastic.”

“I’ll tell Monica you said so.”

“If you do, I’ll only deny it.”

“What is it with you and Monica, anyway?”

“She’s incredibly good at what she does.”

“So you harass her?”

“Yep.”

“Huh?”

“One of the things that I admire most is competence,” I said. “I don’t care what you do as long as you do it well—you could be an accountant, a janitor, a cook, the guy who sharpens my hockey skates, if you’re really good at what you do, you get my admiration and respect.”

“You tease Monica because you admire and respect her?”

“You’ll notice I never pick on people I don’t like.”

“McKenzie, if you were a woman you’d be a blonde.”

“Are you teasing me, Nina?”

“Never.”

“I wonder if I should take a sandwich out to the guy who’s following me.”

Nina stopped chewing her salad and stared at me from across the booth.

“Someone is following you?” she said at last.

“Cherry red Acura parked up the street.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.” I was skimming the menu. “What’s the least expensive thing you have? Kalua pork quesadilla? That’s way too good for him.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Think he’d like a turkey meatball sandwich?”

“Who wouldn’t? McKenzie?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you going to do?”

“The guy’s an amateur. I could lose him in a minute, don’t worry about it.”

“I meant about everything.”

“Honestly, Nina, I don’t know. Apparently everybody and his brother want the Jade Lily, and they all expect me to either lead them to it or give it up after I make the exchange with the artnappers. I’d like to blow off the whole thing, only I’m afraid of the State Department. I guess I’ll decide what to do with the Lily once I have it.”

“You’re still going after it despite everything that’s happened, that’s what you’re telling me.”

“Yes.”

“Dumb blonde. Dumb dishwater blonde.”

We went on like that for a while, talking about this and that, none of it worth repeating until my cell phone rang. I was prepared to let the call roll over to voice mail—I was having lunch with Nina, after all—until I saw the name of the caller.

“Hi, Chopper,” I said into the microphone.

“McKenzie, you still wantin’ t’ meet El Cid?”

I decided against buying lunch for my tail. Let the SOB starve.