There was a safety behind the barrier and staying out of reach.
Ryley ran her rag down the bar toward one of the regulars. Tim sat quietly at the other end of the bar, nursing his beer. The scent of mechanic oil added to the ambiance. “Can I get you another, Tim?”
“I’m good,” he answered without looking up.
“Let me know when you’re ready for me to call you a ride.”
He lifted the bottle in acknowledgment before taking another swig.
This wasn’t Ryley’s idea of a dream job, but it paid the bills.
Stretch was across the room, hovering near the party guys. She’d once suggested Ryley work in a strip club. Ryley had told her she had two left feet. Stretch had outright laughed and told Ryley it wasn’t her feet that the guys would be looking at, but even if she didn’t dance, she’d get way more generous tips from horny men even though she’d decided to bar tend instead.
Another part of the education Ryley hadn’t asked to learn.
The door shoved open, letting in a breeze from outside, when a familiar woman stepped in. She stood just inside the doorway, letting the door close behind her. Her business suit was pressed to perfection. An expensive cream-colored jacket covered her pink silk shirt.
“She looks lost,” Kent said in passing as he carried dirty glasses into the back to be washed.
Ryley tossed a napkin at the end of the bar, sat a wine glass on top, and grabbed the expensive stuff. Only the best for the one woman in the world that kept Ryley sane and out of prison.
Dr. Rosalind Crews smiled as she approached and slid onto the stool. She rested her purse on the counter. “Ryley, it’s good to see you.”
Ryley uncorked the wine. The sweet scent of fruit filled the air. They didn’t get much clientele that drank the blush colored liquid. Ryley poured a generous amount. “Dr. Crews, this is a pleasant surprise.”
“Please call me Rosalind. You haven’t been my patient in over a decade.”
“Rosalind,” Ryley said with a brief nod. “So, what brings you to this side of town?”
“Can’t I just drop in for a friendly hello?” she asked.
“You could if that was all you were here for,” Ryley said, re-corking the wine bottle.
Rosalind guzzled more than was normal for a dignified, elegant woman. Something wasn’t just wrong. It was seriously wrong.
Ryley ran her gaze over the woman. Her hair and makeup were perfect, but her bloodshot eyes and bags beneath them caused Ryley’s concern. She hadn’t been sleeping. Ryley knew the signs. She’d seen it in the mirror often enough.
“It’s almost that time of year. How are you holding up?”
She didn’t need to elaborate. “I’m good so far. No letter yet.”
“Good. Maybe this is the year he leaves you alone.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t think he’ll leave me alone even in death,” Ryley said. Pulling out another glass, she poured herself some wine and took a long sip, letting the fruity flavor coat her mouth and throat.
For some reason, this year the dread building inside her was off the charts. The anticipation of seeing her father’s handwriting on the envelope with no return address would be another mental slap to the face that he could always find her and knew where she was. They still hadn’t figured out how he was doing it.
Rosalind had claimed it was a form of emotional abuse. Ryley was sure her dad didn’t care what the hell it was called.
“So, what brings you by? You just checking in to see if dear old Dad has made an appearance?”
The color in Rosalind’s cheeks darkened. A look of worry clouded her eyes.
“Do you remember when you told me Stan was cheating on me during one of our sessions? You said my mother’s spirit had wanted you to warn me.”
“Yeah,” Ryley answered hesitantly. “I remember. You didn’t believe me until you caught him in the act.”
“You told me which hotel to find him at.” Rosalind’s voice cracked. She reached into her purse and pulled out a wrapped stack of hundred-dollar bills. “I need you to help me again before it’s my funeral you’ll be crashing.”
Chapter 7
Ryley’s mouth parted as she grabbed the money and shoved it back into Rosalind’s purse and closed it up. “Doc, you can’t be flashing money like that unless you want to get robbed.”
“You’re right. What was I thinking? I should have brought it in an envelope.”
“You shouldn’t have brought it at all,” Ryley said, heading toward the other end of the bar. She poked her head into the kitchen. “Kent, you’re up. I need a break, and I’m going to walk my friend back to her car.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s early for you.”
Ryley raised her brow.
Kent wiped his hands on a towel and tossed it over his shoulder. “I’ve got it. Take all the time you need.”
She rounded the bar and grabbed Rosalind’s purse before gesturing to the door. “Let’s talk outside while I walk you to your car.”
Rosalind slid off the stool, drained the last of her wine, and headed for the door with Ryley following behind her.
The moon was full and high, giving the evening sky a soft glow across the parking lot where seven cars were parked. Rosalind crossed to her Jag and clicked the unlock button. Ryley handed her back the purse, and she tried to take the money out again.
Ryley rested her hand over the top of the purse, stopping her. “Would you please stop doing that? My gun and Taser are inside, and you never know who's looking for an easy mark.”
“Sorry, but I need your services, and I’m willing to pay.”
Ryley slid her hands inside her jeans pocket and leaned against the car’s front panel. “You helped me through a terrible time in my life, Doc. If it
