shouts that passed for conversation surged around us like the acrid smoke-thick air. A basketball game blaring from the tiny TV over the bar, and the crack of billiard balls provided the only form of music in the place. Miguel led the way, winding past pool tables and around big men who, despite their inclination to study us with unconcealed interest, were disinclined to move. Every nerve in my body vibrated in a state of red alert. I stopped looking around and kept my gaze pinned on Miguel's broad back, only a foot in front of me.
He found an empty table and rounded up three chairs I touched the table top as I sat. Ick. Sticky. An ash tray directly in front of me overflowed with reeking cigarette butts. The stench, mixed with the odor of men who made scant use of deodorant or soap, stung my eyes and coated the insides of my nostrils. I couldn't remember the last time my senses had been so assaulted.
We'd barely sat when a young woman with blonde and hot pink, spiky hair, multiple facial piercings and an empty tray on her hip, slid between two customers and stood at our table regarding us with a bored expression.
'Beer?' she asked.
I was fairly certain we'd heard the entire selection.
'Three,' Miguel said.
The girl pushed her way between the customers and disappeared. Miguel scanned the crowd. 'I do not see him,' he said, obviously referring to our quarry. 'I will take a look around. Do not go anywhere.' He looked directly at me.
I didn't think he needed to worry. Delores scooted her chair closer to me and glared at the backside of a guy who bumped her. I was hemmed in by similar blue-jean and leather-clad body parts. I wasn't going anywhere – even if I wanted to.
Several long minutes later Miguel returned and gave a slight shake of his head. The waitress following in his wake kept me from asking him any questions. She held the tray with our three beers balanced on one hand at shoulder height. I put a twenty on the table and she snagged it with the first glass she banged down.
I seized the opportunity. 'I wonder if you could tell me whether a friend of ours has been in tonight?'
'Who're you lookin' for?'
'Middle-aged white guy, brown hair, overweight,' Miguel said.
'No kidding? He shouldn't be too hard to single out. Only half the guys in here look like that. Take your pick.' Little Miss Sarcastic snapped her chewing gum and pocketed the twenty.
'He was here last night, dropped a lot of cash buying his buddies drinks,' I added.
She gave me a suspicious once over. 'He do somethin' wrong? You a cop?'
'No to both,' I said. 'We might want to hire him. I hear he drives trucks and sometimes hauls horse trailers.'
'I'll let him know you been lookin' for him – should I happen to see him.' She shouldered her way back through the crowd with her empty tray.
'Keep the change,' I muttered. We wouldn't see her again. I should have realized anyone here would treat us with distrust. We had no idea what we were doing.
'I think we should leave,' Delores said.
I couldn't have agreed more. What a waste of time. Miguel took a couple of swallows from his glass before he got up, but Delores and I left ours untouched.
The moment I stood a strong grip engulfed my upper arm. My heart tried to break out of my rib cage, and my lips turned to ice as the blood left my face. A Sumo wrestler of a man, wearing yards of studded black leather, held me in place with his enormous paw. A dark blue tattoo covered the back of his hand and his forearm. The subject of the artwork was indiscernible, but then again, I wasn't studying it too closely.
'You gonna drink those?' He released my arm and pointed a sausage-like finger at our abandoned beer.
'No, be my guest,' I squeaked, and edged away.
'Thanks.' He plucked my glass off the table. 'You lookin' for Lee?' He downed half the beer in one gulp and wiped his mouth on his tattoo.
I delayed my departure. 'I guess so.'
'He ain't here,' my new friend said, then belched. ''Scuse me.'
'So I've been told,' I said, disappointed with the old news.
'Was here last night.' He finished off the contents of my glass and exchanged it for Delores's. 'Wouldn't buy me a drink, though.'
'Really?' I tried for a non-committal tone, although I think I sounded sarcastic. He didn't seem to care. Why should he? We'd just provided him with three free beers.
'Yeah. Not like you nice folks. Had plenty of dough, too. He should've bought me a beer.'
He was being chatty, so I took advantage. 'I don't suppose you saw him here last Saturday night, did you?'
'Saturday night… Nah, he wasn't here then.'
Damn.
'Was here in the afternoon. Came in while I was playin' pool with Ripper. Didn't buy me a drink then neither. Neither did that prissy lookin' guy was with him.'
I blinked. Had he just said what I thought he'd said? Could I be that lucky?
'He was here with someone?' I prompted. 'Do you know who?'
'Uh uh.' He took another big swallow from the glass.
Damn. Of course I couldn't be that lucky. Then again, maybe Sumo Wrestler could describe the companion more clearly than 'prissy.' 'What did Lee's friend look like?'
'Prissy. Like he didn't belong here,' our clever friend said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he continued.
'Had a haircut, kinda blond, clean, good lookin', I guess, if you're the kinda woman who likes sissy men.' He finished off Delores's beer and leered at me.
My instant recoil was not from the suggestive look. I cleared my throat. 'Hey, thanks.' I caught Delores's eye. She'd missed none of the conversation. Neither had Miguel. I hurriedly dug through my purse and handed my new buddy ten dollars. 'What did you say your name was?'
'Didn't.' He winked. 'You can call me John, little mama.'
Right. He probably had the same name as everyone else in this place. No matter. I'd recognize him easily if I had to find him again as a witness. Miguel stepped forward and took me by the arm, glowering at John from under heavy black eyebrows.
'Time to go home,' he said, leading me away. His moustache looked particularly menacing.
'Sorry, man,' John called after us over the din. 'Didn't mean to move on your woman. Thanks for the drinks.' He belched impressively again.
We walked to my car in silence. The earlier drizzle had become a heavy mist, wrapping its icy fingers around my wrists and neck. I shivered. I knew two men who fit the description of Lee's companion. I got in my car and glanced at Delores as I started the engine. She wore the same stony expression as when the vet has bad news. No one spoke for the few minutes it took us to get back to Copper Creek. No one needed to. We all knew. I pulled in front of Miguel's house and he patted me on the shoulder as he slid out of the back seat. He exchanged a quick look and a nod with Delores. She remained silent until we arrived at her house.
'Call the police first thing in the morning,' she said. 'It'll keep. I'll do it, if you prefer.'
'No. It's better if I tell them.'
She nodded.
I waited while she let herself into the house and turned on the lights. Then I headed home.
With my friends no longer present for support, I vibrated with barely controlled, irrational terror. Someone I knew well killed Valerie. He must know I knew. I wanted to run and hide.
Shaking as if I were hypothermic, I parked in front of my house, hurried through my front door, locked it, turned on every light, pulled all the curtains closed, and stared at the phone. No way did I want to be alone. I picked up the handset, listened to the dial tone, and hung up. It was past eleven-thirty. Uncle Henry and Aunt Vi would be in bed, asleep. I'd upset them if I called at this hour. Who could I call? Andrea? No, she was undoubtedly sound asleep. Nothing short of a fire would stir her until morning. I could call Juliet, but she probably wasn't alone. She'd simply turn around and call Uncle Henry and we'd have a repeat of last Saturday night when Paul rescued me. What would
