Tough Customer

shock and pain was better than whispered sweet nothings. 'Don't compound your cruel rejection by lying about it, Sally. Don't insult my intelligence.'

She was crying in earnest now. Her face, which he'd always thought to be pretty, looked ugly, the features crumpled with pain and fear, snot dripping from her nose, tears streaming down her cheeks. 'Please, Oren.'

'Please what, Sally?' he asked silkily.

'Please don't hurt me.'

'But you hurt me. You damaged me personally and professionally.'

'I never meant to hurt you.' Her voice cracked on the last two words. She was shivering as though she had a palsy.

'Now, Sally,' he said in a soothing voice. 'No need to fall apart on me. Didn't I tell you that you would come to no harm if you did everything I asked you to?'

'Yes.'

'Didn't I promise not to hurt you if you discredited Berry?'

'Yes.'

'Well then. So far, I've kept my promises, haven't I?'

She nodded.

Holding the pistol hard against her temple, he wrapped his hand around her biceps and steered her about. 'Unfortunately, one chat with a deputy sheriff doesn't reparation make. So, into the bedroom we go.'

Her footsteps faltered. 'What for?'

'Use your imagination.'

She sobbed. 'Please, Oren. I'm sorry. For everything, I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. I'll do anything.'

He laughed. 'Oh, I'm counting on that.'

* * *

While Ski was redialing Sally Buckland, he heard his call waiting chirp. The incoming call took precedence. He clicked over. 'Nyland.'

'It's Andy.'

'What's up?'

'The night attendant at the bait shop?'

'At the three-way stop on Lake Road?' Earlier that day, Ski had questioned the man, who claimed not to have seen or heard anything out of the ordinary last night. Impatiently he asked, 'What about him?'

'He watches a lot of TV during his long shift. Seen every episode of Law & Order. Reruns on cable, too. You know how they play several episodes back to back every night?'

'Okay.'

'He doesn't miss. He pays attention to how the cops crack the case. So he's been doing some amateur sleuthing today.'

Oh, Christ. Ski ran his fingers through his hair and wished he hadn't turned down the cheeseburger. It felt like his stomach was gnawing on his spine. Andy was still talking.

'He got out last night's sales receipts--'

'I went through those. None of the credit cards belonged to Starks, and he didn't fit the description of anyone paying with cash.'

'Yeah, but this guy went back through his receipts, to see if something might've been overlooked. It's a slow day, he said. Anyhow, he ran down a guy who charged some gas for his bass boat late last night near the time of the shooting. And that guy, the bass boat guy, remembers seeing another guy while he was filling his gas can. Said he went into the men's room and it looked to him like the guy had a busted leg.'

CHAPTER 9

ALLOW ME.' DODGE CLICKED ON HIS DISPOSABLE LIGHTER.

'Thanks.' The woman smiled around the cigarette held between her lips and leaned forward to touch the end of it to the flame. She took a few drags while Dodge was lighting his cigarette. She exhaled. 'Things have come to a sad pass when you can't smoke in a bar.'

Dodge sighed. 'I hear ya.'

He'd been flirting with her through one beer, which he'd drunk slowly in order to give himself time to assess the place and its clientele. After gauging all the customers who'd come in for happy hour, he'd decided that the woman pouring the drinks was probably his best prospect.

She was forty-something and looked every day of it. Her face had lived through some hard times and harsh disappointments, and in her eyes was a sad resignation. But she had a naturally warm smile, and she was generous with it. Everyone who came in, men and women alike, addressed her by name, and she seemed to know their preferred drinks and everything else about them. He'd overheard her asking about a new job, a fishing expedition, elderly parents, a child in crisis, and a lame horse.

When she'd turned the bar over to a younger man so she could take a break, Dodge had followed her past the restrooms, down a short hallway, and out a back exit.

Now that their cigarettes were smoldering, she lifted the hair off the back of her neck and held it up, creating a provocative pose and extending an open invitation for Dodge to enjoy the view, which wasn't bad.

'I'm Grace.'

'Dodge.'

'Hi, Dodge.'

'Hi, Grace.'

They smiled at each other. She lowered her arm and let her hair fall back into place. 'If you lived in Merritt, I'd know it.'

'Atlanta.'

'Texas?'

'Georgia.'

'No fooling? You're a long way from home then. What do you do there?'

'A little of this, little of that.'

She gave him a smile that said,

I've got your number. 'A man of mystery.'

'Me? Shucks, no, ma'am.'

She laughed at his b.s. 'What brings you to southeast Texas?'

He embroidered a story about possibly relocating to Houston. 'My brother is pressuring me to partner with him on a business deal. It's a good opportunity, and there's nothing keeping me in Atlanta, so I'm giving it serious consideration. But I can't take the city--or my brother, for that matter--all the time. I figure if I make the move, I'll need a getaway. Nothing fancy. Just a place to escape to on the weekends. Get in