Smiley and Barbi looked at him like he had thumped a puppy.
Frankie picked up the rag and wiped the bar, trying tu ignore their disapproval.
'Randi's not alone,' Meredith added. 'Helena Whit worth is posting her bond and Anna Montano as well as Crystal Howard will stand behind her with any monoy needed to make the repairs.'
Frankie snorted. 'Crystal, I believe. She and Randi used to run this place on busy nights. Haven't seen her for a while. Don't know Anna Montano, but everybody's heard of her. Cowboys from the Montano spread who come in here say she's a looker.'
'Look but don't touch,' Smiley added. 'I hear tell her brother threatens to cut the nuts off anyone who talks to her.' He glanced at Meredith. 'Pardon my language, Mrs. Allen.'
Frankie rolled his eyes. 'So Randi's got her some friends. So what? That don't fix my pole.'
Meredith played her ace. 'We'd be willing to put up a string of light poles that look like old fashioned streetlamps if you'd drop the charges. We have every intention of squaring up with you.'
'Wouldn't that be swell,' Barbi chimed in. 'Think of it, Frankie. This place would finally have some class. Maybe folks could find their cars if we added more than one light pole.'
'More poles would just be more for them to run over.'
He wasn't giving in so easily. 'Besides, the pole hit the building when it fell. Scratched the paint off the left side.'
'You've got to be kidding.' Smiley laughed. 'How could you tell that scratch from the hundred folks made trying to leave the parking lot? Some nights it's like bumper cars at closing time.'
'But if we got a string of new lights, folks would notice the paint job,' Frankie reasoned.
Meredith remembered Helena's words to offer whatever she had to in order to get the charges dropped. 'Would you call it even if we had the building painted?'
Frankie slowed his cleaning. 'I might. I always liked Randi. If she hadn't killed my pole I'd say we would still be friends.'
'Blue!' Barbi giggled. 'The building has to be blue.'
'Blue's not a good color for a bar.' Smiley took another drink. 'Black, maybe with a red roof.'
'Both of you shut up. The two of you sound like those interior decorators on TV.' Frankie looked like he needed a drink. 'It's a deal, lady. I'll let you know what color. Now get out of here or order, I don't have time to chat.'
Meredith offered her hand again, and this time Frankie took it.
As she turned to hug Barbi goodbye, the door swung open with a pop, letting in a wide slice of late afternoon sun.
Sheriff Farrington stood with his feet wide apart and his hand resting easy on his gun belt. Meredith almost laughed. He looked every bit the lawman stepping into a saloon in the badlands.
When he saw Meredith, she didn't miss the way his whole body relaxed. He closed the door and walked in as if finding her in the local dive were an everyday occurrence.
'Evenin', Frankie.'
'Evenin', Sheriff. You off duty and drinking tonight, or like half my business lately, just come to talk?'
'Any problem?'
'Not unless you call arguing over what color to paint the place a riot.'
Granger looked at Meredith. 'You having car trouble. Mrs. Allen?'
'No,' she said. 'I was just leaving.' She hugged Barbi again. 'Now, tell Molly hello for me.'
Barbi promised, then added, 'I'd really like that pattern from your sweatshirt. They'd make real neat Christmas presents.'
Meredith wiggled out of the sweatshirt and then straightened the white blouse beneath. It was wrinkled and hopelessly covered in tiny red balls. 'I'll pick the sweatshirt up in a few days when I come back.'
'You're coming back?' Granger looked away as if there was a possibility she thought someone else had asked the question.
Meredith saw no need to answer. This was none of his business.
'I've got to go. Bye, Barbi. Take care, Smiley.' Meredith moved toward the door. 'Bye, Frankie. I'll return with some paint samples.'
'Bye!' Frankie drew the word out as he wiggled his fat fingers.
All three on the other side of the bar glared at him. Meredith ran to her Mustang, in a hurry to get home. On the fourth try to start her car she noticed Granger standing beside her driver's side window.
'What?' she snapped, angry that he had followed her again.
'Let me try.'
She got out of the Mustang, shivering. 'What makes you think it will respond to a male foot pumping the clutch any better than a female foot?'
He pulled off his uniform jacket and dropped it over her shoulders. 'Just let me give it a try.'
The second time he turned the key, the engine kicked to life.
'Luck,' she said as he climbed out.
'Does this thing have a heater?'
'No.' She offered him back his coat. 'But I won't freeze in the ten blocks to my house.'
He refused to take the coat. 'Keep it. I know how you hate to be cold. You can bring it back tomorrow, if you're working at the courthouse this Sunday.'
'I have to get finished with some reports. How about you? Are you planning to be in your office tomorrow?' Everyone in town knew the sheriff did not work Sundays.
'I'll be there.' He snapped as if they were having an argument and not simply a conversation. 'I have some end of-the-month paperwork to catch up on.'
He walked away without saying another word.
Meredith drove home wrapped in his warm coat, wondering how he knew she hated to be cold.
Farmers and ranchers supplied the need for oil field workers in the early days. They were used to hard, backbreaking work in all kinds of weather.
December 2
Anna waited for Bella to take a drink of tea before she continued painting. The old housekeeper loved to talk while Anna worked.
'So,' she started once more. 'I was doing Zack Larson's laundry. It is never much, he takes his shirts and good jeans to the cleaners in town. He kids that he doesn't trust me with white shirts after seeing what I do to white socks.'
Anna smiled, enjoying the music of the woman's words even though she talked of nothing important.
'I don't mind the laundry, which probably makes me a candidate to be committed in most women's minds. But for me, it means an order to the day. I always washed the sheets first, so I could make the bed. Then the towels. By the time they are done, I'm cleaning the bathroom and kitchen. The laundry is a timetable, a clock that ticks away the hours to the beat of Zack's country-and-western music.'
Bella popped a cookie into her mouth and continued while she chewed. 'Only today, hidden among the dirty clothes was a real puzzle. One old blanket he always keeps by the porch swing and the only two good guest towels the man owns were stuffed in the bottom of the hamper. All three were spotted with blood and Zack standing there, not a Band-Aid on him. If he had cut himself, he would have had to search past two stacks of ordinary towels to find the two fancy ones. Why would a man use his favorite blanket anal two good towels to clean up blood?'
Anna had stopped listening. She was remembering.
'I would have asked, but I'm not one to pry. He's a man who guards his solitude. In his teens, when he was wild and out of control, he gave up trusting people.' Bella shook her head, forgetting she was the model. 'I'll never forget the day, fifteen years ago, when his mother was not long dead. I spent half the morning sobering up Zack's
