The Fallen (Amos Decker #4)(74)

He looked at the sleek furniture, expensive-looking rugs, and stainless steel kitchen appliances set against exposed brick walls. In a far corner was a well-appointed exercise area with dumbbells, a chin-up bar, a rack of slam and medicine balls, an elliptical, a Peloton bike, and other machines that seemed designed to strengthen as well as torture.

“No wonder you’re in such good shape,” he said.

“It doesn’t just happen,” she said. “Gotta work for it.”

As Decker looked around at the expensive trappings he said, “Your tips must be really good.”

“It’s not just tips. I actually own the Mercury.”

“Yeah, I heard that. Inherited from your old man?”

“That’s right.”

He watched as she took off the jean jacket she had put on and hung it on a metal coat rack parked next to the front door.

“What are you, twenty-two?”

“I’m flattered. I’m actually almost thirty.”

“About the same age as my partner. Still pretty young to own your own bar.”

“Well, like you pointed out, I inherited.”

“But you’ve obviously been successful on your own. I take it you’re a good businesswoman.”

“My dad was a good teacher.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died.”

“Yeah, that I get. I mean how?”

“Heart attack.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“You want a drink?’

“I think I hit my limit. You got a soda?”

She slid open a refrigerated drawer and tossed him a bottle of water. “It’s better for you.”

She poured out three fingers of Bombay Sapphire, cut it with tonic, and added a slice of lemon, a wedge of lime, and three chunky ice cubes taken from an under-the-counter icemaker.

She tapped her glass against his plastic bottle.

“And is that better for you?” he asked, indicating her cocktail.

“I don’t drink on the job, bar owner 101. But I do like one drink before I go to bed. And I’m a blue bottle gin lady.”

She took off her shoes and curled up on the couch in front of the kitchen area, motioning Decker to sit down in the chair across from her.

He did so and drank some of his water while he eyed her.

“I take it you were born here?”

“You take it wrong. I was born in Philly.”

“And yet your father came here and owned a bar? And by the time you came along the bloom was well off Baronville. So why exchange the City of Brotherly Love for this place?”

She shrugged. “I was only one year old and just came along for the ride, apparently.” She added, “Okay, full disclosure, my mom was from here. They met in college. He always wanted to run a bar. The opportunity came up here, and presto, there you go. Sometimes that’s all you need for a major life change: a dream.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“Good question.”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Here today, gone tomorrow. She left when I was little and I haven’t seen her since.”

“That’s tough.”

“Not that tough. My dad was great at being a single parent.”

“Do you remember your mom?”

“Not really. I was too young. I guess that’s a good thing. How can you miss someone you never really knew?”

“I suppose so.”

She sipped her drink. “So, what’s going on with John? Is he in any sort of trouble?”

“You seem very concerned about a guy who’s just a customer among many others.”

“He’s a very good customer. And a good guy who takes all sorts of crap that he doesn’t deserve.”

“I sort of got that impression at the bar that night.”

“Those guys were morons who don’t know any better. But there are many here who do know better. Or at least they should.”

“I’ve met some of them.” Decker shifted his bulk in the chair. “You know about the murders?”

“What’s that got to do with John?”

“He knew at least two of the four victims. One of them lived on his property.”

“Okay, so? Could be a coincidence.”

“I’m a cop.”

“And that means what?”

“That I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Well, what if I told you that I knew all four of the victims?”

“Because they came to your bar?”

“That’s right.”

“Even Toby Babbot, who I understood was off the sauce?”

“I do serve food at the Mercury, as you well know, having eaten there tonight.”

“And since you’re one of the few places like that in Baronville, it’s not surprising that they all went there. But you didn’t live with one of them, did you? You weren’t high school sweethearts with one of them, were you?”

“I always thought Mike Swanson was kind of cute. And Brad did live in this building.”

“Did you ever talk to him apart from when he was at the bar?”

“I actually think he had a thing for me.”