"Caught any big ones lately?" Paletello baldly referred to Mac's finding the corpse.
Mac shrugged and Paletello wiped down the counter. It was mid-morning, open early, and no one was in save Mac.
Paletello said cops were coming in twice a day hunting for Glasseye. Mac seemed perplexed, yet authoritative; "Ahh—they've got to be kidding. Kelly talked to his grandmother and he was at her house."
"The one he beat up."
"Well . . ." Just then Ret entered and they ceased to talk. He appeared angry and indisposed to receive Mac's handshake. Mac began to tell the fishing story.
"I heard it already, man," Ret said. Paletello turned on the police scanner and they waited for the lunch crowd to come in. Ret asked Palletello to switch the radio off and after a moment he did.
"How's your car, man?"
"Ain't no car, man."
"But. . . "
"End of story, okay?"
Paletello watches them, Mac at a loss. But he leaves it there. Ret sips uniced water.
Mac rises, walks out to the sidewalk, heads east. Different, Paletello notes.
