Part 2 (2/2)
Guilt was an ugly beast.
Slowing my pace, I strolled along Main Street. The moon was out and as full as it could get. I should have known. Quacks came out in droves during a full moon and did all sorts of crazy things. I watched fluffy white snowflakes dance in the amber glow of the old-fas.h.i.+oned bra.s.s street lanterns. It felt like I stood in the middle of a snow globe. Quaint Victorian houses, fine restaurants, and elegant storefronts lined the streets, still decked out in their leftover holiday decorations even though they'd already rung in a brand-new year. Like they were afraid to let go of the past.
It was only 10 P.M., yet there wasn't a soul in sight. Back in the city, things were just getting started. I had to admit, I liked the slower, quieter pace of small-town living, but my system hadn't quite adjusted yet. I was wide-awake and admittedly could use a drink after the ordeal I'd been through. Stopping at the sign for my street, I looked up at the corner bar and decided to go in.
Opening the heavy door, I slid inside Smokey Jo's Tavern. Everyone stopped . . . and stared. So this was where all the people were. The place was packed, and apparently news of the librarian's murder and my questioning had already spread. People whispered and gossiped, undoubtedly speculating about what might have happened.
I made a beeline for the bar and slapped my money down on the rich mahogany surface. ”You Jo?”
The blond-haired, blue-eyed hottie behind the bar winked. ”You must be new to town, love.” His chuckle came from deep within his impressive chest barely hidden under his painted-on-shamrock T-s.h.i.+rt that left little to the imagination. ”The name's Sean O'Malley, la.s.s. That”-he jerked his head to the side-”is Jo.”
A tall, robust, burgundy-haired woman with smokey gray eyes and a sinfully red c.o.c.ktail dress swayed over behind the bar and handed the blond hunk a set of keys. ”Sean, would you be a darling and bring out another case of wine?”
”Anything for you, Jo.” With one more flash of his dimples in my direction, the man disappeared in the back.
The woman turned her attention on me, her smile warm and friendly. I liked her instantly. ”Watch out for that one. He's the biggest flirt this side of the river and just as big of a heartbreaker.” She stuck out her hand. ”Joanne Burnham, but everyone calls me Jo.”
I shook her hand. ”Suns.h.i.+ne Meadows, but you can call me Sunny.”
”I like to play a game whenever I meet a new customer. You see, as a bar owner, I'm a student of human nature and have a knack for sizing up people from looking at them. Do you mind?”
”Not at all. Go for it.”
She studied me. ”Let me guess. You don't look like the high-society wine type we usually get pa.s.sing through from the city or the sophisticated, chic, martini-Cosmo type the other half is.” She tipped her head to the side. ”Yet you smell of money. Probably born into it, although you thumb your nose at it with your simple haircut, makeup-free face, and peace sign T-s.h.i.+rt. I'm guessing you rebel in your choice of drink as well, probably horrifying your parents.” She grinned. ”Beer?”
I laughed. ”Normally, yes, but tonight I'll take a shot of whiskey.” My smile dimmed. ”Make it a double. I'm in the mood to get a little tipsy.”
She arched a winged, auburn brow. ”Rough day, honey?” She poured the light golden brown liquid and slid it across the bar in an expert fas.h.i.+on until it stopped right in front of me.
”You could say that.” I downed the shot, and tears sprang to my eyes. The fiery liquid burned a path straight to my gut, warming the chill from my bones and numbing the shock I still felt over being a suspect in a murder case. I motioned for another. ”Don't worry,” I said, responding to her hesitant look. ”I'm not driving. I walked. You're good, by the way. You should be a shrink.”
”I sort of am, if you think about it.” She handed me a napkin along with a refill. ”Comes with the territory.”
”I hear that. People always want me to solve their problems, fix everything. I might see what's going to happen to them, but there's nothing I can do to change it.” I shook my head, saddened once more over what had happened.
”I heard about Amanda Robbins. Nice lady, but an odd duck. A bit of a spaz, if you ask me. Still, she didn't deserve to die.” Jo looked around the bar. ”Everyone's pretty set right now if you want to unload.”
”Oh, that's okay.” I dropped my chin. ”I couldn't, really.”
”Really, sweetie.” She peeked down to meet my eyes. ”You could.” Her smile was so sincere I couldn't seem to help myself. The entire story spilled out of me, and I had to wonder if this woman had a little magic of her own. It felt great to have someone to talk to. Something I needed desperately right now.
Nearly an hour later and after yet another double, I had officially reached tipsy status as I finished with, ”That stubborn detective has made me his prime suspect. Can you believe it?”
”Anyone can see you're not the murdering type, sugar. Mitch is the biggest cynic around. He acts all tough and serious because of his ex-girlfriend.” Jo leaned in close, and her eyes sparkled as though she loved a good juicy piece of gossip.
”He used to live in the city, too, you know. Moved here a year ago to be a small-town cop. Said he'd had enough of city life and all the crazies that resided there. She really did a number on him, if you know what I mean.” Jo ran her fingertip down her jawline, and an image of the detective's scar flashed in my mind's eye. Had his ex-girlfriend really done that to his face? ”He refuses to date anyone now, much to the dismay of all the women in town.”
Well, that explained a lot about why Grumpy Pants was so serious and, well, grumpy. A part of me softened toward him, and I felt an overwhelming desire to help even though he wanted nothing more than to ruin me. I wrinkled my forehead, tracing circles around the top of my gla.s.s. ”So . . . what exactly did this woman do to him?”
The bell above the door jingled, and Jo turned the heat in her stare up several notches, her smile nearly blinding now as she saluted the new patron. ”Hey, Mitch. The usual?”
I glanced over my shoulder, and my stomach flipped. As much as I wanted to help him, I equally wanted to throttle him. And right now he was the last person I wanted to see. ”What are you doing here?” I turned around and stared straight ahead.
Detective Stone sat on the stool right beside me, of course, and took a chug from his longneck before answering. ”Can't a man enjoy a beer after a hard day's work?”
”Aren't you still working?”
”Divinity's finest is always working.” Jo shook her head. ”Isn't that right, Mitch.e.l.l?”
”Something like that.” Mitch took another swig of his beer, then nailed me with those penetrating eyes of his. ”But my 'official' s.h.i.+ft ended after I finished with you.”
Jo went about making herself look busy by wiping off the top of the spotless bar.
”Hey, Jo, bring the lady a refill, would ya?” Mitch's eyes narrowed as he sized me up.
”Sure thing.” Jo poured me another double whiskey.
”Getting me drunk won't make me slip up and tell you anything, Detective. As I've said a million times already, there's nothing more to tell. I had a vision, it came true, and now the poor woman is dead while the real murderer is running around free as a bird.” I downed this double whiskey a little easier now, as my body was already buzzing and numb from the others. I wasn't much of a drinker, I didn't have nearly enough food in my system, and I weighed little more than the ”real” Tinker Bell. I set the gla.s.s back on the bar and wobbled a bit.
Four double whiskeys in one hour . . . not a good idea.
”Easy now, la.s.s.” Sean winked. ”I'd say that whiskey's gone straight to your wee little head,” he added, while restocking the bar beside Jo. ”I'd be happy to help you home. Just say the word.”
”I'd say you're right, Mr. O'Malley.” I giggled. ”And I might have to take you up on that lovely offer.”
Mitch reached out and caught me before I tumbled to the floor, his eyes traveling between the hunky bar back and myself with a disapproving look, then finally settling on me. ”You're a bit of a lightweight, I take it.”
”Ya think?” I giggled near hysteria now, going all floppy in his arms and letting him take all my weight. I barely had the energy to blink. I had come to Divinity right after New Year's to start my life over, and now my life was a total mess.
”I think you need to go home and sleep it off.” He shot Sean a hard look. ”I'll drive.” The detective met my eyes once more. ”And I don't want any arguments from you. You're not walking home like this.” He sat me back on my stool.
I started to protest, but good ole ”Mitch.e.l.l” ignored me, paying our tab and helping me to my feet. ”Let's go, Tink.”
”Fine, Captain Hook, cuz you sure aren't Peter Pan,” I slurred. ”Nothing carefree or fun about you, uptight scallywag.”
He ignored me, half carrying me to his squad car for the second time that day.
”Really, daaah-ling, we have to stop meeting like this.” I snorted, my common sense gone with my sobriety.
He shook his head, drove me home in silence, and then fished my keys out of my purse. Unlocking the door with one hand, he carried me inside since my legs no longer seemed to work. I had to admit there was something very appealing about Detective Stone. He was big, strong, and ruggedly handsome, making a woman feel protected and safe, but he was also distant, aloof, and off-limits. Oh, who was I kidding? That was half the attraction. I felt suddenly sleepy.
”Where's the killer kitty?”
”Who, Morty? He's harmless.” I yawned. ”He disappears at night, you big scaredy-cat.”
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