Grateful for the distraction, I immediately jumped into work mode and started to help Shelby on the floor, since Lorenzo seemed to have the bar under control. I sold a pitcher of beer and some nachos to a table of tourists passing through, poppers and a whiskey sour to a rancher on his way back to his property, and sliders and sweet tea to a couple who were obviously on their first date, and I forced water and some artichoke dip on a group of young college kids who’d obviously overdone it on the two-for-one well shots deal. Shelby was getting ready to switch out with the night shift crew when Lorenzo suddenly called my name.
I looked over at the bar and noticed a man dressed like a soccer dad staring at me as he nervously tapped his fingers on the bar.
I didn’t recognize him, but the nervous, anxious energy he was putting out I was all too familiar with. He looked like a man who was doing something wrong, knew it, and was desperate not to get caught.
Sighing, I asked one of the night cocktail servers to keep an eye on the potentially problematic frat boys and made my way to the bar. The suburban father looked me over nervously and spun his wedding ring around his finger multiple times. I walked around so I was on the other side of the bar and stopped in front of him. Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “What can I do for you today?”
The man in the wrinkled polo continued to play with his ring as he gazed down at the bar.
“I…uh…came in to try one of your specialty drinks.” He lifted his head and muttered, “Barney sent me in.”
I sighed and pushed some of my hair back from my face. Barney was the current name Shot and I used when someone wanted to come in and place a bet. The name changed every week or so. Shot and I were the only ones who ever knew what it was, to minimize the risk of getting busted by any lurking law enforcement agents. I’d had people come in and tell me they were sent by so-and-so, but if they got the name wrong, I knew what was up. So far no one had been able to trip me up.
I leaned on the bar and asked, “What did Barney suggest you get?”
The dad nearly fell off his stool. This was obviously new to him, and I could practically feel how anxious he was.
“He said I should get a double of the special reserve whiskey, and…uh…one for my friend when he gets here.”
I sighed again and rapped my knuckles on the wooden bar. “The special reserve is pricey. You sure you don’t want to start out with top shelf and work your way up?”
When I started acting as the middleman for people who wanted to place bets with the Sons of Sorrow, I’d told Shot the most money I would take from any one customer was five grand. I made him float me the cash to purchase the most expensive booze I could find, so if I ever got inspected by the health department, or the feds, the money in the register matched the product I had on hand. It was a pretty slick system that worked well and kept my conscience semiclean. If I wasn’t taking hundreds of thousands of dollars from people, I still managed to sleep okay at night. And I always, always tried to talk the newbies out of getting in over their heads.
The dad sat up straighter on the bar stool and raked his hands through his thinning hair. “No. I need to try the special reserve.”
Okay then. Folks needed to make their own mistakes in order to learn from them.
“All righty. What do you want me to pour you?” If Shot had sent him, he would know which special reserve to ask for. Since it was baseball season it was high-end tequila, and depending on which one he ordered I would know which team or teams he wanted to bet on. Whiskey was for football. Cognac for boxing and MMA. Rum for auto racing. Bourbon for the horses, and gin for basketball.
The nervous dad ordered the Clase Azul Ultra and the Patrón en Lalique. Two bets it was, one for each drink. It was amateurish to spread his bets like that, but when I mentioned it, he waved me off and simply asked for his shots chilled.
I set the very, very expensive shots in front of him after getting the fancy bottles out of the special locked and temperature-controlled room in the back.
I clinked the edge of my water bottle to the rim of his glass and muttered, “Bottoms up. Nothing is the same after you try the special reserve.”
The guy nodded solemnly and left right after gulping down thousands of dollars of tequila in seconds.
I watched him go, realizing just how wrong letting myself kiss Hill had been. Not only because I felt guilty for kissing my first love’s brother but because Hill was a good man, honest to a fault, with an unshakable sense of right and wrong.
He would never understand how I’d ended up selling outrageously expensive shots and taking money for a bunch of outlaw bikers. I doubted he would ever forgive me if he found out. He was the last man I should be kissing, for so many reasons.
But I felt even worse now that I could truthfully say he was the only man I wanted to kiss…
Chapter 10
Hill
Do you think she had something to do with my dad’s murder?”
I looked up from the text I was reading from Hearst. At this point I should put a welcome mat in front of my motel room for the Lawtons. It seemed like they were going to be visiting me on the regular until someone was behind bars and charged with Conrad’s murder. It could be worse, I guessed. At least it was Case and not my mother knocking on my door.
“I think Baskin’s hiding something and that she’s scared. I’m guessing she found out Conrad was her father and latched on to the thought she was no longer alone after her mother passed away. I don’t think she got what she bargained for when she sought him out.” I tapped out a quick reply to Hearst and turned all my attention to Case.
My friend didn’t look good. He appeared tired and worn out. The silver in his sideburns and temples seemed to be spreading throughout the rest of his dark hair, and his strong features were set in a ferocious scowl. I wanted to have better answers for him, but there simply weren’t any. My gut said Dr. Baskin was somehow connected to what had happened to Conrad. But I didn’t have any evidence.
“None of us got what we bargained for when she entered the picture. Kody came unglued in the estate lawyer’s office. I thought she was going to rip his head off. Both Crew and I tried to keep her from tearing out of the office, but when she’s determined…” He shook his head and sighed. “I’m worried she’s going to do something really stupid before all of this is over. I want you to find who’s responsible before my sister gets herself in the kind of trouble we can’t get her out of.”
I agreed with him. The texts from Hearst were ordering me to be in our makeshift office at the crack of dawn so we could have a video conference with our boss. No doubt we were going to get an earful about Kody crashing our interview the other day. Possibly even worse if Dr. Baskin had filed a formal complaint. Kody had made us look like amateurs. Made us look like fools in front of the only witness we had.
She had also turned me inside out with that kiss.
It had felt like it’d been a long time coming. Something I’d been waiting for without consciously knowing it. And now that I knew what it felt like to kiss her, to taste her, to hear the sounds she made when she was lost in the moment, there was no going back. The kiss was all I could think about, even though Kody had been doing her best to avoid me in the aftermath. She hadn’t answered any of my calls over the last few days, and there had been no more ambush visits at my motel. I was planning on going to the bar to track her down and hash things out, but I’d been caught up in the case and hadn’t found a free minute. I was used to chasing after her when she pushed me away, but this time, when I caught her, I wasn’t letting go. I had a feeling Kody could feel the way the foundation of our relationship was shifting, which was why she’d been so harsh after the kiss. She was scared, and she was mean when she was afraid.