Graham walked away and toward the back of the bar, disappearing behind the door. Once he was in the storage room, away from anyone who could hear him, he fisted his hands and let out a guttural scream. The veins in his forehead popped out. They throbbed from the pressure building. He screamed again and banged his fists against the concrete wall, not caring if his knuckles cut open.
“Why?” he yelled into the room. “What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” He would never get an answer, because there wasn’t one anyone could give him. He paced the room, small as it was, and recounted every young patron he could. His hands fisted in his hair as the faces of past customers blurred together. Graham would never be able to remember each person he saw over the summer.
Graham gave up pacing and slumped against the wall until he reached the hard floor. He kept his knees to his chest and let his tears fall silently. He wasn’t a big crier, but he was past the point of holding them back. Every part of his body hurt. His hands throbbed from hitting the wall, his head pounded from exertion, and his body ached. He hadn’t felt pain like this since Austin died. He wasn’t sure how much fight he had left in him. It was like he had won the biggest battle of his life when it came to his brother, only to face another army, ready to attack. Only this time, they threatened his livelihood.
When he returned an hour later, he found Rennie waiting on tables. She came and delivered unwelcome news, and when he left to go cope, she stepped in and helped him. Rennie saved him again.
The crowd had thinned out from earlier, but there were still quite a few people lingering. He owed Krista and Rennie an apology for ditching them, but he needed time away, time to process how the hell his life turned out the way it had. What he needed was a redo. He’d give anything to go back to the moment he decided moving home was the right thing to do.
Throughout the rest of the night, Rennie waited tables while Krista managed the bar and Graham bussed. He liked the change in scenery, the grunt work. It kept his mind on the task at hand, and he didn’t have to chat with anyone. When he was behind the bar, he doubled as Cape Harbor’s therapist, listening to everyone’s problems while avoiding his own.
It was midnight when Krista clocked out. Graham offered to clean so she could go home. Graham followed the last patrons to the door. Two old guys, lifers in town. They had been part of the team who looked for Austin. Days on end they had gone out, searching. He twisted the lock on the door and rested his head against the wood. Graham sighed heavily, but it did nothing to curb the anxiety building. Now that everything was quiet, he could hear his thoughts, and he hated them. There was no way he had done the things someone was accusing him of . . . or had he? He could admit there were times when he second-guessed handing someone a drink, where he watched them throughout the night to make sure they weren’t drunk and verified their ride status before they left the bar. He had a local taxi service on speed dial and used it often, and if he suspected someone was sharing drinks with someone underage, he never hesitated to call the police. The last thing he would ever want was for someone to be hurt as a result of his negligence.
He pushed off the door and made his way over to Rennie, who was sitting down at one of the tables, with her feet up. Rennie was crazy to work in heels, but Graham expected nothing less from her.
Graham sat down next to Rennie. “Tell me everything you know,” he said as she handed him her phone. The print was tiny and hard to read with the dim lighting in the bar.
“Right before Thanksgiving we had a quarterly meeting, and one of the senior partners, Donna Pere, said she had a friend of a friend whose daughter was in an accident and is now paralyzed. She went on to say the family wants to sue the bartender for negligence. I asked why her friends let her drive in the first place, and Donna called it a ‘joyride turned wrong’ or something to that effect. No one really said much because people wanted to leave for Thanksgiving.
“At our staff meeting last week, I mention my new case and how I may need some help because it’s criminal but that my clients are family friends. The owner, he’s kind of on my ass about it being pro bono, which is stupid because everyone takes pro bono cases every now and again, and from what I can tell, Grady’s case is easy as long as he cooperates. But Donna, she tells me Lex—the owner—wants her to dig around a little because he’s not happy with the freebie.
“Fast-forward to yesterday. When I get back from Port A, Donna comes to my office and asks where I’ve been, which I don’t get because I’m a junior partner—I can come and go as I please. Anyway, she asks about the criminal case, and I finally tell her who it’s for, and it’s like this light bulb moment for her, and she tells me I have to drop the case because her client is suing you for serving alcohol to a minor. We argue back and forth for a minute until she gets this look on her face and tells me to drop the case or else, pretty much, and that she plans to use the information I told the team about Grady against you.”
“Can she?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not a criminal lawyer, so I’m not exactly sure. I had Ester pull the client file, which is what you see on my phone.”
Graham glanced at Rennie’s phone in his hand. “Why didn’t you call me last night when she told you?”
“I know I should’ve, but yesterday was a good day for you and your family. I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t even go in to work today—sent an email that I was on vacation until after the first of the year and went shopping.”
“So now what?” Graham asked.
Rennie sighed and looked at her friend. He could feel the pity rolling off her in waves and hated it. “Now, we wait for someone to serve you papers. It could be the sheriff or a process server, and then we fight. I’ll ask Jefferson to take your case, but I’m not sure if he’s willing to go against Lex.”
“But you are?”
She nodded. “I am, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Graham was worried. He didn’t want to lose the bar—or worse, end up in jail or with a debt he couldn’t pay. He looked at the document on her phone again and noticed the date. It stood out, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember why. Graham fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his calendar.
“Ren, I don’t know if this means anything, but the night of the accident—it’s the day after someone broke into the bar.”
“Did you report the break-in?”
He shook his head. “I figured it was Grady, and if I was right, my dad would’ve flipped. I had Bowie put in a new door and stuff but left it alone.”
Rennie’s hands covered her mouth, and her eyes darted around. Graham waited for her to tell him what she was thinking and wondered if they were on the same path. There had to be a connection. What if Grady was the one distributing the alcohol? If he was, how much more trouble would he be in?
“What are you thinking?” Graham asked Rennie.
“I think I’m going to place a call to my private detective, see what he can dig up on this girl.”
“I can’t afford that, Ren.”
“Don’t worry about it; we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, I’m heading up to the inn to start my vacation.”