“You were always good at organizing grand escapades,” Kerney said.

Johnny nodded, his face flushed from the whiskey and wine. “And this one is a real moneymaker for everyone involved. Not that you need it. To hear tell, you’ve got a sweet little horse-ranch operation outside of town.”

“Raising and training cutting horses,” Kerney said, wondering who had been so forthcoming about his personal life with Johnny. He doubted it had been Dale Jennings.

“Are you in?” Johnny asked, his words slightly slurred.

“I’m not sure if I can spare the time.”

“You’re the police chief,” Johnny rebutted. “Top cop, and all that. Can’t the department do without you?”

“I’ll think about the offer.”

After dinner Johnny fumbled with his wallet for a credit card to use to pay the check. When he signed the charge slip his hand was shaky.

Kerney thanked him for dinner and held out his palm. “Give me your car keys, Johnny. I’m driving you to the hotel. The concierge can arrange to retrieve your vehicle.”

Johnny flashed an annoyed looked. “Get real, Kerney. The hotel is only four blocks from here and I’m not drunk.”

“I think you are. Your keys, Johnny.”

“You’re joking, right?” Johnny said, laughing.

Kerney shook his head and made a gimme motion with his outstretched hand.

Johnny shrugged, fished a hand into his pocket, and dropped the keys into Kerney’s open palm, along with his business card. “I’m going to need an answer on the technical-advisor job in a week,” he said.

“You’ll have it by then,” Kerney said.

At the hotel Kerney accompanied Johnny into the lobby. The concierge was off duty, so Kerney gave Johnny’s car keys and a twenty-dollar bill to a valet parking attendant and asked him to bring the vehicle at the restaurant back to the hotel.