"Poddar, you better quit stalling and get your keister in gear. The party's almost over."
"Hello, Mick."
My smile faded at the sound of Hunter Valentino's voice. I glared down at the screen, where his bemused profile was displayed. "Hunter. I thought we agreed to cut ties last time we spoke."
"I believe it was something else entirely. You told me to keep you out of my plans and threatened to kill me. I agreed to nothing."
"Why the call now? If it's to ask me to help you out with something, nix that thought."
"Why the hostility, Mick? I called to offer my congratulations. It's been a year of success for both of us. That's definitely worth celebrating."
"Congrats accepted. Now if you don't mind, I got folks to attend to. People I actually care about."
Hunter's smile was mocking. "Do you, Mick? Do you really care about anyone?"
I frowned. "Time's up, Hunter. Have a nice life."
Ending the call did nothing for the unsettling feeling in my stomach. Hunter always gave me the creeps, and that was before he started acting like a human being. Stopping at the automated bar service, I nodded to the android behind the counter. "The regular."
"One Bulleit Neat coming right up, Mr. Trubble."
I turned to Ms. Kilby, who sat by herself on a barstool. "Cheer up, sweetheart. It's a party, not a funeral."
She didn't crack a smile. "Hello, Mick."
"How are things in your Troubleshooter business? Been missing me like crazy?"
"It's been profitable, which is a change from before."
"Ouch. Speaking of the biz, where the hell have you hidden Poddar? I can't believe he'd miss this jamboree by choice."
Her gaze dropped to the half-finished drink in her cocktail glass. "I'm afraid Poddar has been AWOL for the last couple of months."
I stopped with my glass half-raised. "Whaddya mean, AWOL? You mean he just disappeared, and you didn't even think to tell me?"
"He wasn't captured or kidnapped, Mick. It was a choice. We had a difference of opinion, and he struck out on his own."
I lit a gasper and puffed in frustration. "Must've been one helluva difference of opinion, Kilby. When was the last time you heard from him?"
"Around two months ago, as I said."
"So you don't even know if he's even alive? This city ain't exactly known for being crime-free, you know. Anything could have happened to him. Do you even care?"
Her eyes flashed angrily over the rim of her glass. "Of course I care. Believe it or not, you're not the only person in this town with skills, Mick. You said you were retired, so I left you out of it. Don't worry; I'm on the case."
I coughed into my hand, smashing the gasper into a nearby ashtray. "Hold that thought." My eyes narrowed as I focused on a booth in the corner. A lone man was strategically positioned, watching the proceedings as inconspicuously as possible, but his bland haircut and cheap suit marked him immediately.
A tight smile spread across my face. "Guess when you invite all your friends, you can expect an enemy to show up too."
Kilby followed my gaze. "Never seen him before. Someone you know?"
"No recollection, but I recognize an HSSC agent when I see one."
The operative noticed my stare and raised his glass in salute, a small smile on his face. I returned the gesture before downing the bourbon in a single swallow.
Kilby watched the exchange with her usual air of calm. "Are you expecting trouble? I'd like to know so I can exit before the shooting starts."
I shook my head. "He wouldn't be sitting in plain sight if he was here to kill me. I'll check up on him later."
She tilted her head. "That's it?"
"That's it."
"You haven't changed at all, have you?"
"Never claimed to, Kilby. Just not shooting trouble anymore, is all."
"We'll see how long that lasts. Enjoy your celebration, Mick. You deserve it. We'll chat later."
She sauntered away, losing herself in the crowd. I tapped the counter for a reload, mind already working — just like she knew it would. Poddar wouldn't just vanish unless he was on to something big. Which meant something dangerous. I could only imagine—
"Hello, Mick."
I turned at the sound of Natasha's voice. She was effortlessly irresistible with her raven locks in a casual updo, dark eyes large and luminous, dressed in a sleek turquoise dress with an open back. As usual, the sight of her brought an involuntary smile to my face. I used to imagine I'd settle down with Natasha and let her make a good man outta me, but we both knew that was just a dream. She did the smart thing and broke away before the destructive whirlpool of my life pulled her down.
The smile died on my lips when I clapped eyes on the young man standing behind her. Tall and slim, with dark hair just disheveled enough to be stylish, dressed neatly in a tailored suit. I kinda hated him on sight.
Leaning back, I propped my elbows on the counter. "You're a breath of fresh air as usual, Natasha. Who's the kid you're towing around?"
He smiled as if missing the insult, thrusting out a hand for me to shake. "Hello, Mr. Trubble. I'm Matthew Finn. Natasha's told me so much about you."
I reluctantly shook his hand, surprised by his firm grip. "Matt Finn, is it? Name sounds familiar for some reason."
Natasha's proud smile nearly broke my heart. "Matthew is the new Councilman for District 66."
"Oh, yeah — the worst district in the city. You got a lotta work to do, councilman. The West Docks ain't exactly a place that responds to change. You don't clean things up — they clean you up. Like up outta a window and into the river."
He brushed off the notion of imminent death with a charmer's smile. "Nothing's achieved with risk and hard work, Mr. Trubble."
"It's Mick. I'm sure those kinds of sound bites look good on billboards and commercials. I saw one of your ads. 'Don't believe the hype,' something like that?"
"Don't believe the lies," he said, face as earnest as humanly possible. "We're at the heart of a movement in New Haven. Unearthing the truth by erasing the lies one by one."
I squinted, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Yeah? What truth is that?"
"The reality about the Outside, of course. The residents of this Haven have been fed fabrications about life outside the boundaries, led to believe that fallout from the Cataclysm still poisons the air and land. Nothing could be further from the truth. Numerous outsiders smuggled into New Haven have brought indisputable facts: pictures, live recordings, data streams — all indicating that life outside this Haven not only exists, but it's thriving. While we're imprisoned here, reality passes us by and no one is the wiser. I'm sponsoring a Wake-Up rally the day after tomorrow, at midnight. You should come. We plan to expose a lot of the truths we've learned."
I cut a glance at Natasha. "Give me a minute with the kid, will ya?"
She eyed me suspiciously. "Why?"
"Man talk. Relax, I won't break his kneecaps just yet."
"Fine. Just be on your best behavior, Mick."
"I always am." I waited until she rolled her eyes and walked away before turning to Matt and stabbing a finger into his chest. "Listen, bud — you're poking your nose into business that will blow up right in your face. You wanna go that route — up to you. But keep Natasha out of it. She's already gone through too much to see someone else she cares about ending up with a case of the New Haven Blues."
He took my tirade with bemused calm. "So, it is true. I had my doubts when Natasha first told me, but she always said you knew all about it firsthand."