"Sounds good. Maybe if you bag some of Wilder's guys, one of 'em'll flip. I've got a double from two months ago that I know was a hit Wilder called, but I've got nothing."
Smiling, Flack said, "I'll keep you posted."
Everyone settled in before long. Mac took a bite of his cannoli and did not have cause to regret it. He'd had several cannoli in his day-almost all in Stella's company-but this was the first one where the shell hadn't gone stale and the filling tasted almost whipped-cream-like in its fluffiness. "Nice," he said.
"Did I not tell you?" Stella said with a huge grin.
"Yes, you did. And, as usual, you were right."
"Damn skippy," Stella said. "I think the world would be a better place if people just did exactly what I said at all times."
Sheldon chuckled as he took a bite of his large cookie. "Can't argue with that."
"Hey, Sheldon," Flack said, "how'd it feel to be in prison on the outside for a change?"
Mac noticed that Sheldon flinched when Flack asked that, but he recovered quickly. He also noticed Stella flashing him a look of concern.
"It was…weird," Sheldon finally said. "And the COs at RHCF were a bunch of jerks just like they were at Rikers. But I liked being able to walk out on my own without having to fill out eight tons of paperwork."
"No," Mac said, "we only had to fill out four tons as visitors."
That got a laugh from several people. Lindsay almost choked on her tea, but Danny gave her a comradely slap on the back. "Careful, Montana-don't try to walk and chew gum at the same time."
Recovering enough to elbow Danny in the ribs, Lindsay said, "I can do that just fine, thanks."
"Speaking of COs," Mac said, "I've got a call into the DA's office about Officer Ciccone. He's already been suspended, but I want to see if criminal charges will stick."
"Which one's Ciccone?" Lindsay asked.
Flack said, "He's the schmuck who let Mulroney sneak the razor blade out."
"At the very least," Mac said, "we should be able to get him on negligence."
Angell was regarding Flack with an amused expression. "'Schmuck'? Since when do you bring the Yiddish?"
Grinning, Flack said, "I'm a lifelong New Yorker; that makes me an honorary Jew."
Lindsay's eyes grew wide. "Really?" She looked at Danny. "Is that really how it works?"
Danny smirked. "Oy vey, you're askin' me?"
That earned him a second elbow in the ribs.
"Anyway," Mac said, "let's hope he pays for his role in Barker's death."
"Speaking of paying," Stella said with a mouthful of cannoli, "who do I owe for this?"
"Nobody," Angell said. "Jeanie said we could pay when we leave."
"Not quite," said an accented voice from the stairs.
Mac turned to see a large older man coming up the stairs. He had many a liver spot and thinning white hair that he'd combed neatly.
"Good evening, Mr. Belluso," Stella said.
"Apf," he said, waving his hand. "You may call me Sal. You find the man who kill my girl, you put him in jail where he belongs. You eat for free."
"That really isn't necessary," Mac said. "Besides, we can't be seen to be taking-"
"It's my place, Mr., uh…?"
"Taylor-I'm Detective Bonasera's supervisor, and I-"
"This is my place, Mr. Taylor, and if I wish to give you food and drink for free, that is my right as a citizen of your fine country, no?"
Mac hesitated. "Sir, we really can't-"
"Apf! Do I go to your police station and tell you how to solve crimes? No? Then do not come into my bakery and tell me how to serve food and drink. Now enjoy! Enjoy!" Those last two sentences were uttered while he raised both arms in a U shape, as if he were trying to lift something.
With a grin, he went downstairs.
Looking at Angell, Stella said, "I guess we're not polas anymore?"
Mac frowned. "Polas?"
Danny took that one. "It's slang-means female cops. Usually, it isn't meant as a compliment." He looked at Stella. "He called you that?"
Stella nodded. "It was when I was taking blood and DNA. He was muttering in Italian, figuring I couldn't understand a word he said."
Smiling, Mac said, "You must've enjoyed that."
"Oh yeah."
They continued to sit for some time, gossiping, laughing, exchanging stories. Lindsay told some amusing tales of her time in Bozeman's crime lab; Flack-probably inspired by his recent reunion with his childhood buddy-told some stories of his teenage years; Angell talked about growing up with a detective for a father; Sheldon regaled them with some of his wilder emergency-room cases (including the story of the person who had most of a raccoon up his rectum, a story Mac had already heard six times but that neither Lindsay nor Angell had heard; they were appropriately disgusted, which was why Sheldon loved telling the story); and Danny shared some anecdotes from his abortive career as a minor-league baseball player.
Mac even got into the act, describing the time when he was a young Marine and a four-star general showed up to give a talk. "Afterward, he invites us all to the O-club for 'a few drinks.'"
Flack grinned. "How many is a few?"
"I honestly lost count."
Everyone laughed at that.
Mac continued: "Thing is, this guy's a four-star. You don't leave before he does. And he kept buying more rounds and buying more rounds, and if you didn't keep up, he noticed and started yelling." Mac lowered his voice to try to match the general's stentorian tones. "'I've gone drinking with sailors, son,' he said to this guy Martin-he was trying to nurse a drink. 'They're pansies who can't hold their damn liquor. Are you a sailor, son?' Nothing insults a Marine more than saying he belongs in the Navy, so of course, Martin drank down the entire glass in one shot."
Danny stared at him. "Glass of what?"
"Jack Daniel's."
"Ow." Danny winced. "That's alcohol abuse."
"The best part, of course," Mac said, "was the next morning, we still had to fall in at oh-six-hundred, and we didn't even get back to the barracks until oh-five-hundred. The general was on a plane out at oh-seven-hundred, and he probably slept it off in the jet. The rest of us, though, had to act like it was a normal day." He shook his head. "Martin turned a color green that I'd never seen before or since."
"Oh, c'mon, Mac," Stella said, "what about that guy who turned green?"
"What?" Sheldon asked.
"Oh, God," Flack said, "I remember that one."
"Tell us," Lindsay said.
So Stella shared that story, and more were exchanged as the night wore on.
Eventually, though, it had to come to an end. Holding up the dregs of his espresso, Mac said, "Before we all head out, I'd like to propose a toast. To Stella Bonasera for dragging us all out to have fun together."
"Hear hear!"
"Yeah, Stella!"
Stella smiled. "Thanks, Mac."
As the party broke up, Stella and Angell said their good-byes to Belluso and Jeanie. Soon they were all standing on the Riverdale Avenue sidewalk.
Lindsay looked up at Danny. "I'm in the mood to shoot some pool."
"Oh yeah? I know a place, has a great table."
"Well, let's go, then," she said with a smile.
"Don't forget," Mac said, "you're on at nine tomorrow, Lindsay."
"I know," Lindsay said as she and Danny headed toward the latter's car.
Mac shook his head and headed toward his own car, then stopped when Stella called, "Hey, Mac!"
She ran to catch up to him, then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the toast."
He smiled. "You earned it. And good work on the Campagna case, by the way. It would've been easy to just go after Morgenstern. But you stuck with it and followed the evidence. I'm proud of you, Stella."
Stella grinned. "Well, I had a good teacher. And nice catch on figuring out how Washburne died. That was a clever bit of detective work."