Finally some good fucking news. “Anything else?” Hank asked, pouring a cup of coffee and starting for his office.
“No, that’s about it.”
“Good.”
Hank reached his office, closed the door and settled behind his desk. He took a sip of his coffee before placing the mug down and flipping open the file in front of him. He didn’t see the words, though; his mind was elsewhere. She’d been by to see him, and first thing in the morning too. He grinned. They were fucking picking up where they left off, even if he had to throw her over his shoulder. His grin turned into a smile. The idea had appeal.
* * *
The day was dragging. Arissa was tempted to drive back to the station, but what kept her from doing that wasn’t the talk it would stir, but the fact that she hadn’t heard from Hank. She had been by to see him twice, but he hadn’t tried reaching out. Maybe, like her, he wanted to talk face-to-face, but his silence definitely had her feeling a little uncertain. Had she blown it with him? The thought made her stomach twist in knots. She wouldn’t text him, but she was going to corner him later. They were going to talk. It may not go the way she was hoping, but either way she’d know where she stood with him.
It was only four. Two and a half more hours. Dropping down on her sofa, she reached for the remote when she heard a car, the sound was one she recognized. It grew closer, idled before blessed silence returned. The silence didn’t last, though, voices, raised female voices grew louder right before the banging started.
“What the…” Arissa dropped the remote and headed to the door. Glancing out the peephole, she saw an eye looking back.
“We know you’re in there. Open the door or I’m knocking it down.”
Hyacinth.
Arissa opened the door; Hyacinth’s cane was raised, ready to start banging again. Hya glared then greeted, “Took you long enough.” She didn’t wait to be invited in, pushing past Arissa. She wasn’t alone, Maureen strolled through looking amazing in a form fitting pale blue dress, silver heels and carrying two bottles of champagne. Mille was behind her in white lace capris and a hot pink halter-top, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a tray of cookies in the other. Jo held up the rear in jeans and a black tee that looked as if someone had gotten carried away with a bedazzle gun. She had a foil-covered plate.
“Change of plans. A before party. Thought we’d bring it to you,” Jo offered but didn’t wait for a reply, following the others. Arissa didn’t move, stood stock still, as the trampling herd of women known as the Belles blew through her house.
“Close your mouth, and the door before you let flies in. Where are the glasses?” Hya hollered.
They were like a tornado, but it felt good being included. Arissa did as Hya suggested, closed her mouth and the door then walked down the hall to the kitchen. They’d made themselves at home. The champagne was open, plates were out, napkins. The plate Jo brought was on the kitchen island, uncovered…a plate of what looked like pulled pork sliders.
Mille was splashing some vodka over ice, caught Arissa in the doorway and lifted her glass. “Pregame.”
“What’s your poison?” Maureen asked. “Champagne or vodka?”
Arissa didn’t drink hard liquor often and starting as early as they were, by game time she’d be good and toasted. “I’ll have champagne.”
“Well, get on in here,” Maureen said, then asked, “You see the sheriff earlier?”
All activity stopped, heads turned in her direction and the room went silent, a collective breath being held.
“No. He wasn’t there.”
“Now what do you have to talk to the sheriff about at the crack of dawn?” Hya asked, but the look in her eyes made it clear she knew exactly what they had to talk about. Confirmed when she said, “It’s been brewing for weeks.” A smile cracked over her face. “Damn, we’re going to have front row seats, ladies. I have a feeling the most exciting thing happening tonight ain’t going to be the dart game.”
Maureen handed Arissa a glass, she didn’t hesitate to drink half of it in one swallow.
Jo’s laugh filled the kitchen. “Oh damn, this is going to be good.” She reached for a slider. “I can tell ya the sheriff’s been a little out of sorts. Grumpier than normal.” Arissa’s head snapped to her at that news. Jo nodded, “Mmm hmmm.”
Arissa didn’t hide her smile before she took another sip.
Jo continued. “Watching the two of them.” Jo nodded to Arissa. “Sparks, hell, more like the fourth of July. Combustible.”
Millie dropped down on a chair at the kitchen table and sighed, “I always did like fireworks.”
7
“Yo, Moe. The party can begin,” Jo shouted as soon as she yanked open the door to the bar.
“Hey, woman. Get that luscious ass in your stool so I can liquor you up. Got your stool over here.” Moe winked before moving his eyes to Arissa then those behind her. “And the Belles too.”
Before they reached the bar, Jo shot Moe a wide grin then stopped causing Arissa to walk right into her. The three glasses of champagne had hit her; Arissa was feeling good. “Catherine and Henry,” Jo greeted. “You must have gotten here early to get a table.”
“Hank’s playing tonight. We’ve been here since four,” Henry said, then added, “Got an early dinner and now we’re just kicking back.” He looked past them to the Belles. “Ladies, nice to see you.” His gaze settled on Arissa. “And who’s this?”
“Arissa Haywood,” Jo offered before glancing Arissa’s way and adding, “This is Catherine and Henry, Hank’s parents.”
The champagne in Arissa’s stomach soured because the last time she’d talked to Catherine, the woman had misrepresented the situation with Phoebe…intentionally or wishful thinking, Arissa didn’t know.
“Nice to meet you, Arissa,” Henry offered, extending his hand.
“And you,” Arissa said before she glanced over at Catherine. “Nice to
