“He was out of uniform, but everything else about him—his clean-shaven face, his buzz cut, his hard eyes, his body language—gave him away as a lifelong cop. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light, did a scan around the room, taking it all in. He finally saw me sitting by the fire and came over. “Chief Maven,” I said. “What the hell?” “McKnight. Can I sit down?” I nodded to the other chair across from me, another overstuffed leather armchair angled toward the fire—just one more ...reason why a Scottish pub is a thousand percent better than your average American bar. “This is nice,” he said. “I can see why you spend so much time here.” “You knew to find me here?” “Yeah, it’s been an exhausting search. First your cabin. Then your bar.” “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here or not?” He leaned forward in the chair and rested his forearms on his knees. He looked me in the eye and as he did I was already coming up with my own theory. You see, the chief and I had sort of gotten off to a rough start.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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