Pretty Girl Gone (Mac McKenzie #3)

Pretty Girl Gone (Mac McKenzie #3) Page 94

“Hey, everyone’s here,” I said. “Good to see you all. No kidding. Troy, Mr. Muehlenhaus . . . Norman, how’s the shoulder?”

Norman had been sitting in a chair near the door. He was standing now, his arm held in a white sling over his dark blue suit coat.

“No need to get up, I won’t be staying long,” I said.

Norman didn’t sit down. He looked like he wanted to attack me. One thing you had to say about him, he was a gamer.

There was plenty of muttering. Someone wanted to know who the hell I thought I was. Muehlenhaus raised a fragile hand and silenced the table.

“Gentlemen, I apologize for interrupting your meeting,” I said. “However, I think you should know that I am going to vote for John Allen Barrett. I am going to contribute money to his campaign. If I find the time, I’ll even deliver campaign literature door to door. Unless he’s weak on crime—an issue that’s suddenly become quite important to me—I can think of no reason why he shouldn’t be elected U.S. senator from the state of Minnesota. Maybe even president.”

Troy Donovan was on his feet. He looked like he wanted to say something. I didn’t give him the opportunity.

“There was a slight problem involving Mr. Barrett’s wife that might have become an impediment to his campaign,” I said. “However, I believe it has been satisfactorily rectified.”

Donovan sat down slowly.

“What problem was that?” Muehlenhaus asked.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” I said and left the room.

I retreated from the office along the same path I had come. When I reached the lobby I was stopped by the woman with the smart brown eyes that I had met, God, was it only a week ago?

“Mr. Muehlenhaus would like to speak with you,” she said. “He’s coming now.”

“He’s coming to me?”

“Yes.”

That I wanted to see.

While I waited, I examined the Degas. I decided I understood the ballerina a little bit better than the first time I had encountered her.

A moment later, Muehlenhaus arrived. He offered his hand and I shook it. I was surprised by the strength of his grip.

“You did an excellent job in Victoria,” he said.

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“Nonetheless, we are very pleased.”

“Makes you wish you hadn’t tried to kill me, doesn’t it?”

I spoke loud enough for at least a half dozen people to hear me, yet no one behaved as if they had.

“I was wondering, Mr. McKenzie. How would you like to do a favor for me?”

You can guess what I told him.