I didn't think he needed to worry. Delores scooted her chair closer to me and glared at the backside of a guy who bumped her. I was hemmed in by similar blue-jean and leather-clad body parts. I wasn't going anywhere – even if I wanted to.
Several long minutes later Miguel returned and gave a slight shake of his head. The waitress following in his wake kept me from asking him any questions. She held the tray with our three beers balanced on one hand at shoulder height. I put a twenty on the table and she snagged it with the first glass she banged down.
I seized the opportunity. "I wonder if you could tell me whether a friend of ours has been in tonight?"
"Who're you lookin' for?"
"Middle-aged white guy, brown hair, overweight," Miguel said.
"No kidding? He shouldn't be too hard to single out. Only half the guys in here look like that. Take your pick." Little Miss Sarcastic snapped her chewing gum and pocketed the twenty.
"He was here last night, dropped a lot of cash buying his buddies drinks," I added.
She gave me a suspicious once over. "He do somethin' wrong? You a cop?"
"No to both," I said. "We might want to hire him. I hear he drives trucks and sometimes hauls horse trailers."
"I'll let him know you been lookin' for him – should I happen to see him." She shouldered her way back through the crowd with her empty tray.
"Keep the change," I muttered. We wouldn't see her again. I should have realized anyone here would treat us with distrust. We had no idea what we were doing.
"I think we should leave," Delores said.
I couldn't have agreed more. What a waste of time. Miguel took a couple of swallows from his glass before he got up, but Delores and I left ours untouched.
The moment I stood a strong grip engulfed my upper arm. My heart tried to break out of my rib cage, and my lips turned to ice as the blood left my face. A Sumo wrestler of a man, wearing yards of studded black leather, held me in place with his enormous paw. A dark blue tattoo covered the back of his hand and his forearm. The subject of the artwork was indiscernible, but then again, I wasn't studying it too closely.
"You gonna drink those?" He released my arm and pointed a sausage-like finger at our abandoned beer.
"No, be my guest," I squeaked, and edged away.
"Thanks." He plucked my glass off the table. "You lookin' for Lee?" He downed half the beer in one gulp and wiped his mouth on his tattoo.
I delayed my departure. "I guess so."
"He ain't here," my new friend said, then belched. "'Scuse me."
"So I've been told," I said, disappointed with the old news.
"Was here last night." He finished off the contents of my glass and exchanged it for Delores's. "Wouldn't buy me a drink, though."
"Really?" I tried for a non-committal tone, although I think I sounded sarcastic. He didn't seem to care. Why should he? We'd just provided him with three free beers.
"Yeah. Not like you nice folks. Had plenty of dough, too. He should've bought me a beer."
He was being chatty, so I took advantage. "I don't suppose you saw him here last Saturday night, did you?"
"Saturday night… Nah, he wasn't here then."
Damn.
"Was here in the afternoon. Came in while I was playin' pool with Ripper. Didn't buy me a drink then neither. Neither did that prissy lookin' guy was with him."
I blinked. Had he just said what I thought he'd said? Could I be that lucky?
"He was here with someone?" I prompted. "Do you know who?"
"Uh uh." He took another big swallow from the glass.
Damn. Of course I couldn't be that lucky. Then again, maybe Sumo Wrestler could describe the companion more clearly than "prissy." "What did Lee's friend look like?"
"Prissy. Like he didn't belong here," our clever friend said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he continued.
"Had a haircut, kinda blond, clean, good lookin', I guess, if you're the kinda woman who likes sissy men." He finished off Delores's beer and leered at me.
My instant recoil was not from the suggestive look. I cleared my throat. "Hey, thanks." I caught Delores's eye. She'd missed none of the conversation. Neither had Miguel. I hurriedly dug through my purse and handed my new buddy ten dollars. "What did you say your name was?"
"Didn't." He winked. "You can call me John, little mama."
Right. He probably had the same name as everyone else in this place. No matter. I'd recognize him easily if I had to find him again as a witness. Miguel stepped forward and took me by the arm, glowering at John from under heavy black eyebrows.
"Time to go home," he said, leading me away. His moustache looked particularly menacing.
"Sorry, man," John called after us over the din. "Didn't mean to move on your woman. Thanks for the drinks." He belched impressively again.
We walked to my car in silence. The earlier drizzle had become a heavy mist, wrapping its icy fingers around my wrists and neck. I shivered. I knew two men who fit the description of Lee's companion. I got in my car and glanced at Delores as I started the engine. She wore the same stony expression as when the vet has bad news. No one spoke for the few minutes it took us to get back to Copper Creek. No one needed to. We all knew. I pulled in front of Miguel's house and he patted me on the shoulder as he slid out of the back seat. He exchanged a quick look and a nod with Delores. She remained silent until we arrived at her house.
"Call the police first thing in the morning," she said. "It'll keep. I'll do it, if you prefer."
"No. It's better if I tell them."
She nodded.
I waited while she let herself into the house and turned on the lights. Then I headed home.
With my friends no longer present for support, I vibrated with barely controlled, irrational terror. Someone I knew well killed Valerie. He must know I knew. I wanted to run and hide.
Shaking as if I were hypothermic, I parked in front of my house, hurried through my front door, locked it, turned on every light, pulled all the curtains closed, and stared at the phone. No way did I want to be alone. I picked up the handset, listened to the dial tone, and hung up. It was past eleven-thirty. Uncle Henry and Aunt Vi would be in bed, asleep. I'd upset them if I called at this hour. Who could I call? Andrea? No, she was undoubtedly sound asleep. Nothing short of a fire would stir her until morning. I could call Juliet, but she probably wasn't alone. She'd simply turn around and call Uncle Henry and we'd have a repeat of last Saturday night when Paul rescued me. What would I say to him this time, anyway? "I've figured out who killed Valerie and I'm scared. Can I come stay with you?" Sounded like a sniveling child. I'd already done child-with-a-temper-tantrum this week. Besides, Uncle Henry said Paul was in Seattle through the weekend. Could I swallow my self-respect and call him? God no. I'd rather spend the night in my attic with the spiders. Besides, I had no assurance he'd be inclined to help me even if I knew how to reach him-which I didn't.
I was probably overreacting.
I was safe at home.
Pretty much.
I double checked the locks on the doors and windows, tossed my clothes in the washer, and stepped into the shower to rid myself of the smell and feel of the tavern. A loud thump sent me cowering to the corner of the tub, expecting to see the curtain ripped back and the flash of a butcher knife. The water pressure in the shower spray decreased abruptly. The washing machine. It'd shifted into the rinse cycle. Despite knowing the cause of the noise I rushed to finish rinsing, toweled off and pulled on my nightgown. With my heart still hammering against my ribs, I slid into bed.
Not five minutes passed before I got up, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and lay down again.
Don't be such a weenie, Thea. You can do this.
I turned off the lights and stared, wide eyed, into the darkness, listening for any sounds.
At four o'clock I gave up pretending I would sleep, got up, and went into the kitchen to make coffee. The water gurgled as it heated and dripped into the carafe. It was so slow-and noisy. Why had I never noticed that before? I poured Cocoa Krispies into a bowl, ate, and tried to rehearse what I would tell Detective Thurman. When the coffee was ready, I filled a large travel mug, put on my sneakers and opened my front door, intending to leave.