Chapter 14: Fish Fry

I hung up and texted Reece with my thumb shaking.

"Friday. You promised."

He answered in under a minute.

"My lawyer says I can't withdraw with a police report on file. It's out of my hands."

Then a second text.

"Keep the other thing quiet. It's better for all of us."

I showed Morgan.

He read it twice.

Then he handed the phone back.

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing tonight," I said. "Tonight I'm going to eat."

He looked at me.

"It's Friday in Lent," I said. "The church on the corner does a fish fry. My dad took me every week of my life."

"The crews go to that one," he said. "All of them. Every Friday."

"I know. I can hear them on the channel at seven, burping."

He almost smiled.

"Then get your coat, Four."

Ruthann came too.

She said she was there to supervise, and then she ordered two fish sandwiches.

The church hall was in the basement, under a low ceiling with paper fish taped to it.

Church ladies in aprons ran the kitchen.

The sandwiches were twice as long as the buns.

Half the room was in Carhartt jackets.

"Four!" the kid yelled from a back table, and stood up so fast he knocked over a chair.

The lieutenant read the menu card to the table out loud.

"Fish sandwich. Haluski. Macaroni and cheese. Pierogies, potato and cheese. Pierogies, sauerkraut."

The big one who hummed got into an argument with a church lady about her haluski.

He thought she was using too much butter.

She thought he could leave.

Kinley went around the table in her orange hat.

The kid held her like a bomb.

Ruthann told them the whole story of the hat.

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