Part 13 (2/2)
”I rest my case,” the mayor said, throwing up his hands.
Mitch's hands clenched into fists.
”That's right,” I said. ”We will put this case to rest for sure, Mayor. You can count on us.” I grabbed Mitch by the arm and once again pulled him out of a room, calling over my shoulder, ”We'll be in touch soon.”
Once we were outside, Mitch blew me off and started to storm away toward his car.
”Where are you going?” I sputtered.
”You figure it out, Tink, since you're so good at detecting.” He climbed in his car and started the engine.
”Fine, I will,” I hollered back at him, but I doubted he heard me over the splatter of kicked-up snow and slush as he drove away.
Having no clue where to go from there, I walked down Main Street like I had the night I first met Detective Stone. It was earlier but still just as picturesque as dusk settled over the old-fas.h.i.+oned town. Light snow fell in big fat flakes softly to the well-tended streets, the bra.s.s streetlamps flickering to life in the ever-darkening sky. I stopped at the now-familiar corner of Main and Shadow Lane and once again entered Smokey Jo's Tavern.
Dim lighting, soft music, and mumbled conversations filled the s.p.a.ce. Just what I needed. A place to blend in and forget my worries.
”Hey, Sunny, you okay?” Jo asked. ”You look like you lost your best friend.”
”More like my partner.” I sighed. ”I don't even know what happened.” I sat down at the bar since the tables were quickly becoming occupied by the dinner crowd. Besides, I was only one person, and it seemed silly taking up a spot meant for at least two.
”What can I get for you?”
”Iced tea, some chicken fingers, and fries.” I was used to eating by myself, but it never failed to remind me how alone I was in this world. I sometimes wondered if it would always be this way.
”Uh-oh. Comfort food. That can't be good.” She slid the gla.s.s of tea in front of me and put in my order. ”This one's on me.”
”Thanks.” I took a long drink and then set the gla.s.s down.
”Well, if it isn't my favorite fortune-teller,” Sean said with a big grin, looking hotter than ever in his snug baby blue T-s.h.i.+rt and faded jeans. He carried a bin of clean gla.s.ses through the swinging door in the back and restocked the shelves.
”I'm the only fortune-teller, you know.” I laughed, enjoying flirting with the rascal. But I knew it would never amount to more than that with Sean. He was G.o.d's gift to women-all women.
”But you're still my favorite, la.s.s.” He winked, twirling a liquor bottle expertly like something right out of the movies. ”So, how's the case coming along?”
The c.o.c.ktail waitress brought out my food and then left to check on the ever-increasing customers. Bernard Sampson came in and sat at a table by himself. Guess he was still miffed at his wife, Maude, for missing their lunch date. I could relate to his mood.
”Not so good, I'm afraid.” I dipped a chicken finger in honey mustard sauce and took a big bite, sighing as I chewed the sweet and tangy delight. My mother would be appalled. ”I'm worried we're going to fail,” I voiced my biggest fear.
”Only quitters fail,” said a deep voice from beside me.
”Hey,” I said to Mitch, swallowing hard as I peeked up at him. ”You still mad at me?”
”That wasn't about you, Tink. Cromwell and I have a history. You wound up in the middle of it.” He snagged a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and popped it into his mouth. After he finished chewing, he looked me in the eye. ”I'm sorry.”
”Apology accepted,” I said softly, sliding the plate between us.
”Thanks.” He ordered a soda and then pulled out his notebook. ”Contrary to one bonehead's beliefs, I have been working. I've been doing some digging.”
”And . . . ?”
”Nothing. Not a blessed thing. Looks like we're back to the drawing board.”
”This day just keeps getting better and better,” I grumbled.
”As much as I hate to admit it, the mayor is right. We are running out of time and out of leads.”
”Then maybe we should up our game.”
He eyed me warily. ”What do you have in mind?”
”I'm thinking it's time I became a babe.”
12.
”So, what do I do again?” I asked as I sat at a table in Lulubelle's kitchen, not feeling like a babe in the least. There were a total of three tables, with four women at each one. Jo's group was winning, so she was at the head table in the dining room, while the rest of us were at the lower tables in the breakfast nook and island. I sat next to a black-and-white-cow cookie jar and Belle herself.
”You roll the three dice and hope they land on whatever round we're on. In this case, fives.” She sipped her margarita and nibbled on a finger sandwich. ”Don't worry, sweetie. Bunco is a lot of fun once you get the hang of it.”
I rolled the dice but didn't land a single five. ”Sorry. Hope I don't make your team lose.”
”Oh, posh.” She waved her hand. ”It's all about the booze and the snacks.” She threw her dice, bouncing them off the chest of the woman across from her. The women snorted on a laugh, and Belle let out a squeal while she tossed her hands up in the air, yelling, ”Bunco!”
I clapped my hands, a.s.suming her squealing was a good thing. ”I like your bangs, by the way. How's Big Don?”
”Aw, thank you, doll face.” She beamed, and then her smile dimmed a little. ”Still just as big and blind as ever.” She shook her head, and her chubby cheeks wiggled. ”Cheers.” She held out her gla.s.s.
”It's his loss, then,” I said, clinking my gla.s.s to hers, but I didn't take a sip. She looked surprised and motioned for me to bottoms up. ”I'm not really much of a drinker.”
”Oh, come on, sugar, live a little. They weren't kidding when they said life's too short.”
”Well, that's true.” I tipped my margarita up and chugalugged. ”Oh boy.” My eyes nearly crossed. I'd have to pace myself, or I'd be calling one yummy detective to come tuck me in. Hmmm, then again . . . ”No.” I blinked. So not gonna go there.
”No what?”
”No way am I ever going to be as good as you, but thanks for letting me be an alternate,” I said after she finished with her victory jig over her latest score.
”No problem. You and Jo actually helped us out. It takes twelve people to play two teams. Amanda Robbins was one of our regulars, poor dear. We still haven't replaced her.”
”Who is the other regular?” I asked above the music and hooting and hollering women.
”Carolyn Hanes,” Belle said around a mouth full of chips.
”Really?” I leaned in close, not wanting to miss a word. ”I don't know her that well, but she doesn't seem the type to let loose.”
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