"Ready."
Lucas fired first, five shots. He used both hands, his right shooting hand cupped in his left, the left side of his body slightly forward of the right. He kept both eyes open. Lily could tell he was hitting the black, but she couldn't tell how close he was to the center 10 ring. When Lucas finished, she stepped to the line and took a position identical to the one Lucas had used. She fired her first shot, said, "Shit," and fired four more.
"Problem?" Lucas said when she took down the gun after the last shot.
"First shot was a flier, I think," she said. The deputy rolled the targets back to the shooting line. Two of Lucas' five shots had clipped the 10 ring. The third and fourth counted 9, a fifth was in the 8 ring. Forty-six.
Three shots from Lily's.45 had obliterated the center of the target, a fourth was in the nine, but the flier was out in the four. Forty-three.
"Without the flier, I'd of won," Lily said. She sounded angry with herself.
"If pigs had wings they could fly," said Lucas.
"That's the worst round I've shot in a year."
"It's the less than ideal conditions, shooting targets with a gun you don't use on the range," Lucas said. "It gets you range shooters every time."
"I'm not a range shooter," she said, now angry at Lucas. "Let's get the new targets up, huh?"
"Jesus, what'd you guys bet? Must be something, huh?" asked the deputy, looking from one of them to the other.
"Yeah," said Lily. "A hundred bucks and Davenport's honor. He loses either way."
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
Lucas grinned as he finished reloading. "Bitch, bitch, bitch," he said, just barely audibly.
"Keep it up, buster," she said through her teeth.
"Sorry. Wasn't trying to psych you," he said, trying to psych her. "You shoot first this time."
She fired five shots and all five felt good. She smiled at him this time and said, "I just shot a fifty or close to it. Stick that in your nose, asshole."
"Temper, temper…"
Lucas fired his five. After the last shot he looked at her and said, "If that doesn't beat you, I'll kiss your ass in Saks' front window."
"Side bet?" she asked before the deputy reeled in the targets. "I got fifty bucks that says I win this round. And don't give me any shit about anything else."
"All right," he said. "Fifty."
Dick pulled in the targets and whistled. "I'll have to count these careful," he said.
All ten shots were deep in the black. Dick spread the targets on a workbench and started counting, Lily and Lucas looking over his shoulder.
"Wait a minute," Lucas started, when the deputy wrote down an eight.
"Not a fuckin' word," Lily said, pointing her finger at Lucas' nose.
The deputy added up the totals, turned to Lucas and said, "You owe the lady fifty bucks. I count it forty-seven to forty-six."
"Bullshit. Let me see those…"
Lucas counted them forty-eight to forty-seven. He took two twenties and a ten out of his wallet and handed them to her.
"This pisses me off," he said, his voice tight.
"I hope being pissed off doesn't make your hand shake," she said sweetly.
"It won't," he promised.
Lucas shot first on the third round. All five shots felt good, and he turned to her and nodded. "If you beat me this time, you deserve it. This time, I got the fifty."
"We'll see," she said.
She fired her five and they followed Dick down to the targets. He shook his head. "Jesus. You guys…"
He took five minutes to count, then glanced at Lily. "I think he's got you, Lily, Lieutenant. Either one point or two…"
"Let me see that…"
Lily went over the targets, counting, her lips moving as she totaled them up. "I don't believe it," she grunted. "I shoot two of the worst rounds of my fuckin' career and you take me out by a point."
Lucas was grinning. "I'll collect tonight," he said.
She peered at him for a second, then said, "Double or nothing. One round, five shots."
Lucas thought about it. "I'm happy where I'm at."
"Yeah, maybe, but the question is, Are you greedy enough to go for more? And do you have the balls for it?" Lily said.
"I'm happy," he repeated.
"Think how happy you'll be if you win."
Lucas looked at her for a moment, then said, "One shot. Just one. Double or nothing."
"You're on," she said. "You shoot first."
Dick sent down a new target sheet. When he was out of the way, Lucas lined up in a one-handed bull's-eye-shooter's stance, brought the P7 up once, lowered it, scratched his forehead, brought the gun up again, let out half a breath and fired.
"That's a good one," he said to her.
"I thought you shot practical."
"Most of the time," he said. Then he added, innocently, "But I was really better at bull's-eye."
She took her two-handed stance and squeezed off the shot. "A hair to the left."
"I win, then."
"We ought to look." They looked. Lucas' shot wiped out the 10 ring. Lily's shot counted nine. "God damn it," she said.
Outside the precinct station, it was already getting dark. They turned a corner into the parking lot and were alone for a moment.
"Well," she said.
He took in her big dark eyes and the heavy breasts beneath her tweed jacket, looked down at her and shook his head. "Later."
"God damn it, Davenport…" But Lucas was already popping open the door to the car. They were back at the surveillance post in fifteen minutes, Lily stewing.
"Anything?" Lucas asked, as they stepped into the surveillance room. The FBI man's camp stool had disappeared.
"Quiet as death," said one of the cops. Del was still asleep. "Who won?"
"He did," Lily said grimly. "Two points out of a hundred and fifty."
"All right," said the heavier of the two cops. He held out his hand and the other cop gave him a dollar.
"A whole fuckin' dollar?" Lucas said. "I'm impressed."
The street was absolutely empty. At times it seemed as though an hour passed between cars. Sloan stopped by, watched an hour and finally said, "Why don't you get a portable and come down to King's Place. My wife is gonna meet me there. It's about two minutes away."
"What is it?" Lily asked.
"Tex-Mex cowboy-lumberjack bar down on Hennepin. They don't allow fights, they've got a band and terrific tacos, three for a dollar," Sloan said.
"Food," said Lily.
Lily expected Lucas to collect at the car, in the dark, but he walked around her again.
"Jesus, you're an asshole sometimes," she said.
"You're so impatient," he said. "Why can't you relax?"
"I want to pay off and be done."
"We got plenty of time," he said. "We got all night."
"In a pig's eye we got all night," she said.
The bar had thirty-pound muskies and deer heads on the wall, a stuffed black bear in the entrance and a wooden cactus in the middle of a room full of picnic tables. A three-piece Mexican rock band banged away in a corner, and pitchers of Schmidt beer went for two dollars.
Sloan got things rolling by ordering a round of pitchers, which only Lily thought was excessive. The band came on with a south-of-the-border version of "Little Deuce Coupe."
"Let's dance," Lucas said, pulling Lily away from her tacos and pitcher. "Come on, they're playing rock V roll." Lucas danced with Lily and then with the wife of a local cowboy while the cowboy danced with Lily. Then Lily danced with Sloan, and Lucas with a tall single woman whose beehive hairdo had just begun to topple, while Sloan's wife danced with the cowboy. Then they did it again. Lily was giggling when she finally got back to the table. Lucas waved at the waitress and pointed at Lily's pitcher.
" 'Nother round, all the way," Lucas called.
"You're trying to get me drunk, Davenport," Lily said. Her voice was clear, but her eyes were moving too much. "It'll probably work."
Sloan laughed immoderately and started on the second round.
At midnight, they checked the surveillance room. Nothing. Both of Hood's roommates were home. The lights were out. At one o'clock, they checked again. Nothing.