The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.) (39 page)

She read for about an hour then made herself a salad for dinner. By the time she had finished her meal it was almost 7.00 clock. She showered making sure not to get her hair wet, it took ages to dry and she didn’t have time for that.

From her wardrobe she took a turquoise calf length skirt with sequinned embroiderer along the bottom and a white short sleeved blouse with frills around the neckline and a camisole underneath.

She applied her make up, brushed her teeth,  put on some lipstick and finished her titivating with her favourite perfume. She contemplated having her hair down, but it sometimes got in the way. And anyway, it would look to Dean as if she had worn it down for him, so instead she took it out of the plait and pulled it back in a ponytail high on top of her head so that it swung back and forth when she turned her head.

By this time it was almost 7.45 so she picked up her bag and left the cabin. The Carters were not around so they were either inside for the evening having worn themselves out at the beach…or rather the kids had worn them out…or they had not yet returned. She met no one as she made her way to the town and the bar. She felt very nervous about going into the bar alone. At home she would never dream of going to a pub by herself, she wished now she had asked Dean Maxwell to meet her outside or at his bookshop. But if she was honest with herself, she had not wanted it to seem as though this was a date. He had definitely been disappointed that she had not called in for more tea after arriving back from Biloxi the evening before. And she had seen how he had reacted to her accepting a lift from Sterling Hennessey and having dinner with him at the bar, he hadn’t liked it at all. So she did not want to give him the wrong impression by asking him to arrive at the bar with her.

She was just walking past the Horse and Hind where Sterling Hennessey was staying and wondering what he had been doing with his day, when as if her imagination had conjured him up he came out of the hotel door and almost collided with her.

He said, ‘excuse me, ma’am.’ He did a kind of double take as he realised who he had nearly run into and smiled a bright smile. ‘Oh, hi. Sorry, I was in a world of my own there for a moment.’ He had timed his exit from the hotel to perfection.

Before she could stop herself she'd blurted out, ‘Mr Hennessey, I was just thinking about you.’

He looked pleased, ‘really? I’m honoured.’

She realised how that might be construed and said hurriedly ‘oh I don’t mean about
you
in particular,’ he raised his eyebrows a small smile on his lips as she plowed on, ‘I mean I was thinking about the hotel, I mean that you’re staying here.’ She gave up and lowered her eyes in defeat, ‘if you know what I mean.’

He said, ‘I think it’s pretty clear.’ She raised her eyes to see him grinning, ‘although I’ll admit to being disappointed that it was the hotel you were thinking of and not me.’

She felt the blush begin to creep up her face and mumbled, ‘well, good evening, Mr. Hennessey.’

She turned from him but halted as he asked, ‘have you just returned from Jackson?’ He knew she hadn’t because she was dressed differently than this morning and very nicely too. He had noticed the skirt hanging in her wardrobe when he had searched her cabin that morning. She also had hair tied back in a ponytail instead of the usual plait and it looked very nice too.

‘Oh no,’ she replied, ‘I mean I returned a while ago, but I didn’t go to Jackson, I went to Pascagoula instead.’

‘Really? Why did you change your mind?’

'Well Dean, that’s Dean Maxwell who owns the bookshop just there,’ she nodded down the street, ‘he said that Pascagoula was a very nice place to visit, so I decided to go there instead. But I’ll do Jackson another time, maybe tomorrow.’

He didn’t like this friendship with the handsome bookstore owner and noticed how she had called him Dean and he Mr. Hennessey, but managed a smile, ‘you do seem to have made a lot of friends here in Eden. The sheriff, the bartender, and now the proprietor of the bookstore.’

Again she had the distinct impression that he was making fun of her. She said, ‘Dean Maxwell was one of the first people I met when I arrived here. He showed me around his shop and made me tea.’

She said this in a rather defensive way and he knew she had picked up on his mockery…again. He did not want to alienate her with his petty sarcasm so said softly, ‘it’s an example of the kind of person you are, everyone is so nice to you because you’re so nice to them.’

She looked for sarcasm in his eyes but saw nothing but sincerity. She said, ‘thank you.’

He said, ‘would you care to go for coffee, or maybe a drink in the bar again?’ He grinned, ‘I’ll buy you another snowball.’

She smiled now, ‘actually, I’m just on my way there now.’

He felt his gut tighten and did not want to ask the question nor hear the answer he knew he would to it, but he had to ask, ‘oh, you’re going to the bar by yourself? Have I turned you into a snowbalaholic?’

She laughed outright now, ‘yes, I haven’t been able to think of anything else all day.’

He tried to make his laughter sound genuine. She went on, ‘no, there’s a karaoke there tonight and Dean says it’s a fun evening out. I though I would give it a try. Not the singing of course, I don’t think I’ll have
that
many snowballs.’

He smiled but thought, damn that bastard Maxwell; he knew he was a threat. He had miscalculated. He should not have left her to wander around alone today. He should have spent the day with her, several days perhaps, lavished his attentions on her, taken her to dinner again, somewhere more expensive and romantic than the local bar. Bought her chocolates and flowers, wooed her and then left her to think about him for a while.

She might have been so happy to see him after a short absence, missed him enough that she would confide in him, to ask his advice and help. Still, all was not lost, Maxwell might have invited her to this karaoke but he was still a middle aged guy and too old for her, where as she had already expressed an interest in him, hadn’t she been thinking about him as she made her way to meet Maxwell?

He said, ‘a karaoke, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve been to one of those. Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Have a good time,’ he grinned, ‘and don’t drink too many snowballs, they’re actually more lethal than I told you they were.’

He turned to walk away but halted when she said quickly, ‘oh it’s not a date, I mean Dean isn’t my date, no, he just told me about the karaoke evening that’s all.’ Before she'd thought it through she'd added, ‘why don’t you come along too? I mean if you’ve nothing else planned?’

He almost laughed at her eagerness, but mostly with relief that she didn’t after all have a date with Maxwell. He said, ‘are you sure, I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.’

‘Oh you wouldn’t be, I mean of course not.’

He smiled, ‘then I’d love to tag along.’

She smiled back and they walked along the street together. She was glad that she now did not have to walk into the bar by herself, but she knew that Dean would not be pleased that she was here with Sterling Hennessey.

She knew she had made a fool of herself, gushing and stumbling over her words. And she knew she should not have been so quick to assure him that there was nothing between Dean and her. One thing was certain, she was not good at the play it cool; keep them guessing games she had read about in books.

He certainly looked very handsome tonight, he was wearing black Chinos, a black jacket and dark blue shirt open at the collar revealing a glimpse of black hairs on his chest.

As before he opened the door for her and she preceded him in. There were more people in the bar than there had been last evening, almost all the tables were full, but there was one  three back from the little stage where a man was setting up his microphones and other equipment for the karaoke. Hennessey said, ‘grab that table and I’ll get the drinks. Would you really care for a snowball, or are you safer sticking to lemonade? I wouldn’t like to see you do “I will survive” in a slurred voice.’

She looked at him wide eyed then saw his lips twitch. Smiling she said, ‘I might sing it in an
un
slurred voice and that would be much worse. But an orange juice will do fine for now, thank you.’

He laughed and went to the bar around which quite a few people were hanging. Bob was serving along with two women, one young and one older, if Hennessey had to guess he would have said that this was the infamous spicy meatballs lady herself, Iris. There was also another man serving, so Hennessey guessed they were expecting a really busy night.

Nevertheless, he did not have to wait long to be served. Bob greeted him with, ‘oh hello again. If you’re wanting food, I’m sorry, but we don’t serve on karaoke nights, it’s too busy.’

Hennessey assured him that food was not why they were here, they had heard that it was a good night and they thought they would come and see for themselves if it was a lie.

Bob handed him his drinks and assured him that it wasn’t a lie and that they would surely enjoy themselves. He said, ‘I take it Miss, I mean Adela, is with you.’

Hennessey was torn between liking the idea that people thought of he and The Target as an item (it would keep men like Maxwell away from her) and people noticing too much. He said, ‘yes, she’s over there.’

Bob smiled, ‘tell her hi from me.’

Hennessey nodded and turned to go back to the table but stopped dead when he saw Adela talking to the Maxwell guy. He was sitting beside her as they chatted like old friends.

CHAPTER 15.

      
Hennessey’s grip tightened on the glasses in his hands as he made his way towards them.

Adela saw him first and looked a little embarrassed, she said quickly, ‘this is Dean Maxwell, I told you he owns the bookshop down the street. Dean, this is Sterling Hennessey the man I told you about.’

He put Adela’s orange juice in front of her and his own beer at the opposite end of the table.  So she had told Maxwell about him, what had she said? He wondered.

Maxwell rose and held out his hand to Hennessey who felt very strongly like taking the proffered hand in his own and breaking every bone in it. Instead he took Maxwell’s hand and said, ‘pleased to meet you, Mr. Maxwell. I’ve heard about your book store. I must call in one day before I leave,’ to break your over friendly, interfering neck he thought, but finished, ‘for coffee or something.’

‘Please do, and it will be on the house, any friend of Adela’s etcetera. She told me how you helped her yesterday in Biloxi, I’m very grateful to you.’

“I’m very grateful to you.” That sounded very much to Hennessey like a proprietorial comment, something a husband would say to a man who had helped out his wife, or significant other. But Maxwell was as pleased to see him as he was to see Maxwell that much was clear.

He said, ‘glad to help. Can I get you a drink?’

‘Well that’s awful kind of you, a whisky please.’

Hennessey stared at him a moment longer then turned back to the bar. The place was really filling up, but again he was lucky in that he was served almost immediately, if he had had to wait he might have killed Maxwell right there and then in front of almost the entire town. He put Maxwell’s whisky in front of him, the man thanked him somewhat absently before turning back to talk to Adela as though Hennessey was not there. As for Hennessey he had never felt more like smashing a glass in someone’s face. Instead he smiled and said, ‘you’re welcome.’

Adela could feel the tension in the air and silently reprimanded herself for not remembering that she had promised Dean to hold a seat for him. And now she sat between two men who had obviously taken an instant dislike to one another. Although Sterling Hennessey did not seem to like anyone very much. He had been impatient with Bob the evening before, and she could tell his smile had been forced when he had said “Hi” to the other patrons. And there was definite resentment against the sheriff, and now Dean Maxwell.

Perhaps he was just an unsociable man. She was forced away from her thoughts by Dean asking, ‘and how did it go in Pascagoula today, Adela?’

‘Oh I had a fine day thank you. I went to Krebs Lake; there was a cemetery nearby overlooking the lake. Most of the gravestones were very old as were some of the people buried there, in their nineties a lot of them. You must be a hardy lot here in Mississippi.’

Dean laughed and Adela went on, ‘then I went to a Spanish fort that dates back to 1718, although apparently it’s not a real fort, but there was a cannon outside in the grounds.

Then I went to the museum which was close to the fort, they had eighteenth century Indian artefacts there, that was
very
interesting.’ She looked at Hennessey, ‘I didn’t go to a diner today; I didn’t feel up to confronting disgruntled truckers two days in a row.’

Hennessey smiled, ‘I’m sure they would have soon realised that they had taken on more than they could cope with.’

Adela smiled too, ‘anyway, I got a sandwich and sat by the lake, it was so pretty and relaxing I could have stayed there all day.’

Hennessey leaned forward as if about to speak but Maxwell got there first, ‘did you sit on the cannon by any chance, Adela?’

'No. I would have but I didn’t like to ask someone to give me a leg up.’