Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(39)

The Wild West was known for its whiskey and loud music. The regulars wore cowboy boots and wide-brim hats. It was past four when they pushed through the swing doors and walked inside. The wood floors creaked under their feet. Chairs were made from wine barrels, and the tables were mostly warped and scarred.

There were a few customers scattered about, since they served hot soup and sandwiches during the day.

Ben introduced himself to the bartender and asked if Leanne Baxter was around. The bartender disappeared inside the back room, and a minute later Leanne appeared. Leanne looked the same—round face, sky-blue eyes, and curly blonde hair that stopped at her shoulders. She wore a plaid shirt, jeans, and a pair of distressed leather boots with a Western stitch. Her cheeks reddened when she spotted Jessie. Then her gaze settled on Ben, and she stopped in her tracks, looking momentarily taken aback.

“What is it?” Ben asked.

Her blonde curls bobbed when she shook her head. “Have we met before?”

Ben shook his head. “We talked on the phone earlier about Sophie Cole.” He gestured toward Jessie. “I believe you’ve met Jessie Cole. I figured you wouldn’t mind if she came along to hear what you had to say.”

“Sure,” she muttered without bothering to look Jessie’s way. “Did you take care of the rent?”

“I did.”

Leanne gestured toward the back of the room. “Why don’t we sit over there?”

They followed her across the room to the booth with cracked leather seats. Jessie slid in first. Ben took a seat next to her, leaving Leanne to sit across from them.

The bartender brought them a round of waters, then disappeared.

Ben pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, then complimented Leanne on her bolo tie, which made her face brighten. And then he got right to it. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you told us everything you remember about the same night ten years ago.”

“I don’t remember much,” she said before clearing her throat. “If you’ve ever been here in the evening, you would know the lights are kept dim, which makes it hard to see clearly.”

It didn’t take much to make Jessie’s ire grow. Leanne was being vague and seemed to be throwing out a few disclaimers for good measure. The woman hadn’t changed one bit.

Ben must have sensed Jessie’s frustrations because he leaned forward. “Don’t worry about getting everything right,” he told Leanne. “We’re not here to judge you, and everything you say is off the record.”

Leanne visibly relaxed. “The night in question wasn’t the first night I’d seen her here.”

Jessie clenched her teeth and remained silent.

“Sophie was beautiful,” Leanne continued. “Men adored her, and women wanted to be her. Heads turned when she walked through a door. But all the adoration stopped the minute she opened her mouth.”

“Why is that?” Ben asked.

“She was mean, bordering on cruel. The words that came out of her mouth were usually spiteful or condescending.”

Jessie stiffened. “My sister was one of the most compassionate, caring people I’ve ever known.”

Leanne lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m just telling you what I saw. Should I go on or not?”

Ben looked at Jessie. “Do you want to take a look around while I finish this?”

He wanted to get rid of her. Too bad. She was staying. “No. I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“All right then,” he said, turning back to face Leanne. He propped his elbows on the table in front of him, fingers entwined. “So what was Sophie doing on the night you saw her last?”

“She was dancing with Frank.”

“Frank?” he asked.

The name meant nothing to Jessie.

Leanne nodded. “Frank was my fiancé at that time.”

“I take it you didn’t appreciate another woman dancing with your fiancé.”

“That’s right,” she said. “I weaved my way through the crowded dance floor, pried her hands off Frank, and told her to back the fuck off.”

Ben kept his gaze on Leanne. “And what happened after that?”

Leanne shrugged. “She found someone else to dance with.”

“Who?”

“A scraggly-looking guy with bad teeth and wearing gaudy jewelry.”

Ben scribbled on his notepad. “A gold chain?”

“No,” Leanne said. “Rings. One on each of his middle fingers. One of them reminded me of the ring Johnny Depp wore when he played the pirate.”

“Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Caribbean?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She drank some water. “When we get busy around here, I usually end up helping the bartender. The guy was sitting at the bar that night, twirling his rings. The skull ring on one hand and a gold band with a purple stone on the other.”

Jessie felt Ben stiffen next to her.

Eyes squeezed shut, he pressed his fingers to his temples.

“What’s wrong with him?” Leanne asked.

“I don’t know.” Jessie touched his shoulder. “Ben. Are you all right?”

He nodded. “Migraine.” He slid out of the booth. “I’ll be right back.”