Murder on the Rocks (24 page)

I shook my head and mentally chastised myself. I’d spent so much time devoting myself
to my father and the bar that here I was in my mid-thirties with only a handful of
dates in my past, and single. Dad had pushed me several times to get out and socialize
more and I suspect that was half the reason he started sending me to various conferences
and conventions a few years ago. I’d resisted his attempts, but I wasn’t immune to
the pressures of my singleness. I’d always dreamed of having a family of my own someday,
and now that my dad was gone that need was even stronger. My biological clock was
ticking loud and clear, and unlike some people I could actually hear it.

It was time to do something about it.

S
undays are typically a slow night—most people are gearing up for the workweek and
not interested in partying—and the weather was making this Sunday night more of a
bust than usual. Even the draw of a murder in the alley out back wasn’t enough to
bring people in. I wondered if it was the weather doing it, or if Ginny’s murder was
already yesterday’s news. Then I felt guilty for wondering if the public notoriety
train was pulling out of town, taking my extra income with it.

Riley came in at a little after seven—his closing time on Sundays—and after giving
me a quick hug that again triggered a vision of those silvery, round drops, he settled
in at a table. “Hey there,” he said as I approached his table. “How’s your day going?”

“It’s been slow. I think the weather is keeping people away.”

“Yeah, I had a busy morning, but it faded out once the storm hit. A lot of people
who came in asked me about the murder and I sold a bunch of crime novels. Coincidence,
you think?” His wry grin made it clear he didn’t think so. “You know, I hate to say
it but this murder thing hasn’t been too bad for my business.”

“I know what you mean,” I said. “Tonight won’t be stellar, but the last two nights
I did way more than my usual.”

“It looks like your friend is catching on quick,” Riley said glancing over my shoulder.
Duncan materialized at my side with a drink in hand.

“Your usual, an extra dirty martini,” Duncan said, setting down a coaster and a drink.

“Rather presumptous of you,” I said, my tone a bit irritated.

Riley waved away my comment and took a sip, after which he gave Duncan a thumbs-up.
“Perfect.” Then he shifted his attention back to me. “Any big breaks in the case?”

I shook my head.

“Any more cops come around?”

“Not as you’d know it,” Duncan jumped in. “But I’d bet money those two fellas who
just took a seat at the other end of the bar are coppers.”

Riley and I turned to look. I recognized the two guys Duncan was referring to as two
of the uniformed cops who were here on the day of the murder. I wondered if their
presence here now was for business or pleasure. They weren’t in uniform so I guessed
it was the latter, but I wasn’t sure how all this undercover stuff worked.

“How can you tell they’re cops?” Riley asked Duncan.

“The military style haircut, the general demeanor, the way they watch everyone else.
It’s a dead giveaway.”

Riley eyed Duncan curiously. “Had some dealings with the law, have you?”

“You might say that,” Duncan said. “More than I cared to. When I was younger, I used
to hang with a cousin of mine who had a knack for getting into trouble. I ended up
guilty by association.” I wondered if this was true or if Duncan was making stuff
up as he went along. Was this like his flirting, just another of his ploys to get
people relaxed so they’d talk?

“Did you do any time?” Riley asked.

Duncan shook his head. “Nah, I got lucky. Then I got smart and started hanging out
with a better class of friends.”

The front door opened and Tad Amundsen came in along with a fresh gust of rain-drenched
wind. He had to work to get the door closed and once he did, he stood there a moment,
dripping water onto the floor.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Poor Tad looks like a drowned rat.” I headed for the door, thanked
Tad for braving the weather, and then handed him the bar towel I had draped over my
shoulder so he could dry his face.

“It’s a nasty one out there,” he said. When he was done with the towel he handed it
back to me. “Thanks, Mack. You’re a gem.”

Duncan appeared at my side and after acknowledging Tad with a nod, he said, “What’ll
you have tonight?”

“I’m thinking an Irish coffee sounds good,” Tad said, settling in at a nearby table.
“And as long as I’m going Irish, why don’t you bring me a corned beef sandwich and
a side of fries to go with it.”

“Coming right up,” I said. I turned to Duncan. “Can you make his drink while I get
his food?”

“Two shots of Irish whiskey in a mug of black coffee, topped off with whipped cream.
Piece of cake.”

“If you want basic and boring,” I said. “Dress it up by sprinkling a few drops of
green crème de menthe on top of the whipped cream.” I turned and headed into the kitchen,
tossed an order of fries in, and went to work on Tad’s sandwich. I hadn’t gotten very
far when Duncan came in.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know. You seem different tonight, more distant. Are you angry with me?”

Angry at myself is more like it.
“Nope,” I said in what I hoped passed for nonchalance. “Why would you think that?”

“Like I said, you’ve seemed distant tonight. And there’s the way you dismissed me
just now after correcting me on Tad’s drink. You seemed irritated. Did I do something
to upset you?”

His concerned tone sounded sincere but I knew he might be pretending to be worried
in order to lull me into a feeling of disclosure and trust.

“I’m sorry if I came across too bossy,” I said. “I know you’re only here to do your
police work and to catch Ginny’s killer, but you’ve fit in so well and done such a
good job, I sometimes forget that you don’t really work here. But if working for me
is too hard for you, you’re free to quit and leave anytime. But then, I don’t need
to tell you that, do I?”

The timer on the fryer dinged and I went about draining the fries for Tad’s order,
grateful for a chance to look away from Duncan. By the time I turned around to dump
the fries on the sandwich plate, he was gone. Had he headed back out to the bar, or
had he taken my suggestion and left the bar altogether?

It turned out to be the former. Out in the main bar area, I discovered that Tad had
left his table and settled in at Cora’s. Duncan was there, too, and he was leaning
down between the two of them as they hunched together, talking.

As I set Tad’s plate down in front of him, Duncan looked over at me and said, “Did
Cora tell you about this computer program she’s working on?”

“She did,” I said with a wan smile. “I understand it named me as the prime suspect.”

Cora looked at me and winked. “I’ve added your friend Duncan here to the list of suspects
since he doesn’t have an alibi for the time in question either.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at that and I shot Duncan an amused look. He wiped the smirk
off my face with his next comment, however.

“Cora has a lot of information about the case, details and such.” He gave me a pointed
look that made it clear he wasn’t very happy.

Fortunately for me, the front door of the bar opened then and Zach walked in along
with two of his paramedic buddies. I said, “Excuse me,” to the group at the table
and walked over to greet Zach and his friends.

“Hey, how’s it going today?” Zach said, giving me a hug.

“Slow. The weather has been keeping people away. Even the lure of a murder isn’t enough
to drag people in here tonight.”

“It dragged us in,” Zach said, gesturing toward his friends. “Kurt, Andy, this is
Mack.” I nodded and smiled at Kurt, a short, muscular blonde, and Andy, who was tall,
skinny, and balding. “And it hasn’t been slow for us,” Zach continued. “It’s been
a nonstop day and we just spent the last two hours out on the interstate dealing with
a multicar wreck. We’re tired, thirsty, and starving.”

“Glad to help,” I said, smiling at the other two men and gesturing toward a nearby
table. “Sit down and take a load off. What would you like to drink?”

They all ordered tap beers and Kurt and Andy settled in at the table. But Zach walked
me toward the bar, one arm draped possessively over my shoulders.

“Maybe you should take advantage of the slow business and the weather and close early
for a change. Give yourself a little extra free time. Give
us
a little extra free time.”

“I don’t know,” I said, frowning. “Billy counts on his hours. I don’t want to short
him.”

“So pay Billy and let him go home early. He’ll feel like he’s getting a bonus.”

I started to say I couldn’t afford to do that, but I stopped myself, remembering that
I might be able to after all, thanks to Ginny. Of course that assumed I collected
the inheritance, which would be hard to do if I ended up in prison convicted of her
murder.

“But his paycheck is more than just his regular hourly pay,” I said instead. “That’s
only half of what he makes. A good portion of his income is from tips, and if we aren’t
open and don’t have customers, there aren’t any tips.”

“How much is he going to make in tips at this rate?” he asked, looking around the
bar.

He had a point. Only half a dozen tables and seven bar stools were occupied. Despite
the logic of it all, I still felt resistant to Zach’s suggestion and I wasn’t sure
why.

“You could also stay open and let Billy run things. He can manage, especially at this
pace.”

“We’ll see,” I said vaguely. “You and your friends need to eat. So let’s give it another
hour or so to see if the storm continues and what kind of business I’m doing. Then
I’ll decide.”

Zach watched as I poured the beers and carried them back to the table along with a
couple of menus. Then he settled in with his friends and helped them decide what to
order.

I was aware of Duncan watching me the whole time and the scowl on his face made me
suspect he was angry with me for sharing all the information I had with Cora. I half
expected him to follow me into the kitchen when I went to prepare the food for Zach
and his friends, but he didn’t. When I finished fixing the food and went to deliver
it, I found Duncan seated at Zach’s table chatting with the three men, but he got
up and left abruptly as soon as I arrived. As I set the food down for the men, Duncan
took out his cell phone and disappeared down the back hallway.

I don’t know if it was the storm outside, or the fact that Duncan seemed upset with
me, but something triggered a strong sense of pending doom in me. And when a loud
crack of thunder rattled the windows of the building on top of a bright lightning
flash, I wasn’t sure if the loud explosion I heard was real or one of my reactions.
The lights blinked off, then on, then off. At first I wasn’t sure if that was real,
either, but the lingering darkness and the outcries of my customers quickly cleared
that up.

I felt my way to the bar where Billy was already lighting some of the emergency candles
I kept stashed for situations such as this. There were more candles in the kitchen,
my office, and my apartment, and I went about rounding up as many as I could, placing
them strategically throughout the bar for the few customers inside.

I don’t know when I realized that Duncan had left. The candle duty kept me busy for
half an hour or more, and figuring out tabs and bills without the benefit of a card
reader or cash register distracted me for quite a while. Though I hoped the outage
would be a short one, it was still dark over an hour later and all of my customers
except for Zach had left, taking advantage of a lull in the downpour.

I decided I might as well take Zach’s advice and close down early. The chances of
any new customers coming in were slim and even if they did, my ability to provide
for them was severely limited without power. I told Billy he could go and that I would
pay him for the hours he was losing. He thanked me and headed out.

As soon as Billy was out the door, Zach hollered to me across the empty bar.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Duncan guy was a cop?”

I froze, unsettled by the tone in his voice and unsure of how to answer him. So I
didn’t; I walked over to his table and fired a question back at him. “How did you
find out?”

“I told you we spent the last couple of hours of our shift out on the interstate and
there were a bunch of cops out there, too. Kurt overheard some of them talking about
this undercover thing a new detective was doing that they thought was kind of strange.
He heard them mention a name: Duncan Albright. So when your fella came over here to
our table and introduced himself, Kurt knew who he was. Kurt asked him and he tried
to lie at first, but then he just caved and fessed up. He said you were in on the
whole thing. At first I didn’t want to believe that, but then I realized you had to
be. How else could he be here working?”

“It was a necessary evil, Zach. Detective Albright basically told me that I could
let him hang here as an undercover cop or I could be shut down for several days while
they conducted parts of their investigation. I couldn’t afford to be shut down. To
be honest, it’s a good thing I did it that way. I found out that Gary has a criminal
record and did time in jail, and that his cellmate was Ginny’s birth son, given up
for adoption. I had to fire him on Friday night. Fortunately Detective Albright is
a fast learner with a penchant for bartending because he helped fill the hole left
by Gary’s departure.”

“If you’re so sure Gary is the culprit, why did you lie to me about this Duncan guy?
Don’t you trust me, Mack? Do you know how foolish I felt when his real identity was
revealed and my friends realized I’d been duped along with everyone else?”

“I didn’t mean to dupe you, Zach, but my hands were kind of tied on the matter.”

“Really?” he said, sounding both angry and wounded. “If that’s the case, then how
come Cora Kingsley knew Albright was a cop?”

“She didn’t at first. She just found out. She figured it out on her own when she did
an Internet search and ran across an article about some bust he had in Chicago.”

“Billy knew, too, didn’t he?”

I sighed and gave him an apologetic look. “Billy figured it out on his own, too, and
then he was sworn to secrecy.”