Irish Eyes by Mary Kay Andrews Read Free Book Online

cooperation.”
    Lloyd Mackey stood at the chief’s side. I edged around the group and caught his eye. He stepped toward me and touched my elbow, guiding me into a corner where we could talk without being overheard.
    “How is he?” I asked.
    “He’s upstairs in surgery,” Mackey said. “The docs haven’t told us anything yet. We’re still trying to reach his family.”
    I pushed a strand of wet hair out of my eyes. “His parents are dead. His mother died several years ago. Anyway, the cops were pretty much his family.”
    “Personnel is going through his records to be sure,” Mackey said. “We don’t want any relatives finding out about this when they turn on the news tomorrow morning.”
    “I can’t believe any of this is happening. Detective Washingtontold me the clerk took off with the videotape from the security camera. And the money from the safe. I don’t get it. I really don’t. I was there. The girl was scared witless. She couldn’t even dial nine-one-one. I don’t see how she had the presence of mind to go in that back office, take the tape, and empty out the safe—with all those dozens of cops milling around, and then take off carrying a screaming baby. On foot.”
    Mackey frowned. “Washington should have kept his mouth shut. That stuff about the clerk isn’t for public consumption. You got me?”
    I looked around at the rows of cameras that were setting up for the chief’s press conference. “Fine. I’m not the one who alerted the media about all this.”
    “The clerk’s name isn’t going to be released,” Mackey said. “Not yet anyway.”
    “I understand.” A thought occurred to me. “You don’t suspect the girl had something to do with shooting Bucky, do you?”
    Mackey was watching the chief conferring with her assistants. “Our investigation is in the preliminary stage. That’s all I can tell you. You know the rules, Garrity.”
    “I know Deavers is in this hospital with a bullet in his head,” I said fiercely. “What I want to know is how it got there, that’s all. You seem to forget, Major, that I was there, too. The shooter could have taken me out, too. I need to understand what happened. I’m not some lowlife ambulance-chasing reporter, you know. You asked about Deavers’s family. I’m his family. He was closer to me than my own brothers. And I have a right to know what’s going on with your investigation.”
    Mackey was stone-faced. “You’ll be informed as we see fit. That’s the best I can do. Tomorrow, you can call Captain Dugan. I’ll authorize her to release any information that’s pertinent to you.”
    “Dugan,” I said. “Bucky’s new girlfriend?”
    “Captain Dugan,” Mackey repeated. “She’s at the scene right now.”
    A tall, white-haired man pushed his way through the cops and the reporters. The chief frowned when she saw him, but reached out and shook the hand he offered anyway. A wave of reporters pressed forward when they saw the newcomer.
    “Pete,” one of them called out. “Can you tell us what happened tonight?”
    “Christ,” Mackey muttered.
    “Who’s that?” I asked.
    “Pete Viatkos. Owns the Budget Bottle Shop. I thought everybody knew Viatkos.”
    “Not me,” I said. “He some kind of celebrity?”
    “He’s a legend in his own mind,” Mackey said. “Kind of a cop groupie, I guess you’d say. He sponsors a golf tournament in May, as a benefit for the Police Benevolent Association. Hires a lot of our guys to work security, sponsors a couple of APD softball teams.”
    Viatkos stepped up to the bank of microphones, glanced at the chief for permission to speak. She nodded.
    He cleared his throat. “Uh, I’d just like to say that me and my family are praying for the recovery of the officer who was shot in our store tonight. As a lot of you know, we at the Budget Bottle Shop regard this city’s police officers as the finest in the country.” His speech had a formal tone to it, and a slight accent. “Our officers