Fatal Justice (Jack Lamburt #1)(23)

“I know you will. And that’s your last beer for tonight, so you’d better milk it. You can’t afford to be slow on the draw.”

“I’m two hundred and twenty pounds, it’s gonna take a lot more than one beer to have any effect on my reflexes. But if it makes you feel any better, this will be my last beer.”

“Good.” Her smile disappeared and she turned serious. She cleaned in a little closer. “How’d it go last night?”

“Done.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God for you, man, that’s all I have to say, thank God for you.” She raised a fist and we bumped. “Man, do I owe you.” She smiled for the first time today.

“No sweat. Just stay chill tonight and make my job easy. You do that, and I’ll owe you. We’ll be even.”

“Ha, I don’t think so, but yeah. I promise.” She grabbed her server tray and turned to leave, then stopped midstride. She turned around and looked at me, held my gaze, then stepped in close and whispered, “Be careful.”

I nodded and smiled, trying to make it appear to the other patrons that she’d said something lighthearted and witty.

She went over to the next table and introduced herself to an older couple. The place was starting to fill up, and I noticed Frances over in her usual place, a freshly lit Marlboro Red in one hand, a whiskey in the other. God bless her. We should all be so lucky.

The door creaked open and the two stooges walked in and went right towards Mary Sue. They sat down at a table and when she walked by them the fat one tugged on her sleeve.

My table was two over from them. It was too early for the band, so the jukebox was on, but it was on the other side of the dance floor, so it didn’t interfere with my ability to hear the conversation. I caught bits and pieces of it. Enough to know that for two nights in a row, I’d be getting rid of a dead body. Correction. Bodies.





25





I sat with my side to them, pretending to veg out while I nursed my beer. I kicked back, crossed one leg over the other, and tried to sink into the background and appear about as nonaggressive as a six-foot-six guy could. Slouched shoulders, head down. All-around pitiful example of how a man should carry himself. Kind of like George McFly from Back to the Future.

Mary Sue walked away from them, cool as a cucumber. I listened.

“Think she’s lying?”

“I don’t care if she is or isn’t. We take her after she gets off from work and cut the fuckin’ truth out of her.”

“Do we really need to do that?”

“What, you gettin’ fuckin’ soft on me?”

“No, it’s just that we don’t even know if Sammy met up with her.”

“Where the fuck else could he be? Sooner or later, his wife’s gonna call around looking for him. You know how he’s always checking in with her.”

“On Friday nights? Forget about it, nobody calls their wife on Friday night, it’s boys’ night out.”

“Sammy did. He really loves Sally, and when the boss finds out he’s missing, we’re gonna get whacked for it. You want that?”

“Fuck no, I’m just saying that maybe the wench don’t know nothing.”

“So what? It’s just a few hours of work, then we dig a fuckin’ hole. It ain’t like we never whacked a wench before.”

“What’s wrong with you? You ever think before opening up that pie hole of yours? You make it sound like digging a hole is no big deal. You have any idea how rocky this fuckin’ ground is up here in the mountains? It ain’t like we’re down at the Jersey shore.”

I’d heard enough. I left my beer and walked over to the bar, where Debbie was still flirting with her friend at the other end. She looked over at me, then turned back to her friend for a few more seconds. Laughing it up, having a good old time.

She finally started heading over to me and her friend’s eyes stayed glued to her ass as he licked his lips. She stopped to chat with about six more of her admirers, bending over before each one, elbows on the bar, using her cleavage as leverage to fatten her tip jar. She made it over to me and stood with her hands on her hips.

“Can I help you?”

“One more beer and then I’m going to head out.”

She looked at me for a minute, a deadpan expression on her face, and walked over to the cooler in front of Bobby. She bent down and reached into the cooler, feeling around like she couldn’t locate a mug, all the while flirting with Bobby. Now it was his turn to lick his lips. I should open up a Chapstick stand in this place. I’d make a fortune.

She finally pulled out a frosted mug and held it under the tap. She walked back over to me, placed it in front of me, no coaster, and walked away. It wasn’t even a full glass, and the head was four inches thick. Fine. Be like that.

I sat down on my stool, determined not to look at Debbie for the rest of the night. Screw that bullshit. I had work to do and couldn’t afford to be distracted.

I lasted four seconds before I caught myself staring at her again. Sheesh.

I needed to come up with a plan. What the hell was I going to do with these guys? How would I get them alone?

I thought Bobby’s eyes were going to pop out of his head when she leaned over in front of him again.

Focus!