Chapter 13 #2
“Based on that criteria,” Ida Belle said, “you should be sitting back at your house. Just go in a minute after Fortune and work the left side of the room. I’ll take the right.”
I headed up the steps, took a deep breath, and opened the door to the bar.
Country music blared so loud it made me wince, but at least it was the jukebox.
I said a quick prayer that they turned the volume down before drunken amateurs started singing and headed straight back for the counter, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone on my way.
I’d learned the hard way that eye contact in a bar was a dangerous thing, especially a place like the Swamp Bar.
If you looked too long at a woman, she thought you had a problem with her and wanted to fight.
If you looked too long at a man, he thought you wanted to have sex.
Which often led back around to a woman wanting to fight, especially if she’d already set her sights on the man.
I’d never considered myself hot, but by Swamp Bar standards, I was practically a runway model.
There was an empty stool at one end of the bar and I slid onto it.
The bartender gave me the once-over, then nodded.
Apparently, I’d passed inspection. I recognized him from my previous trips and knew he was one of the brothers that owned the bar.
I just wasn’t sure if he was Whiskey or Nickel.
Whiskey being for the brother’s preference in drink, and Nickel referring to a five-year stint in prison.
“Whaddayawant?” he asked, the entire sentence coming out as one word.
It didn’t rank high on the customer service scale, but at least he hadn’t recognized me. “Beer,” I said. “Whatever’s on tap.”
He nodded and poured a mug, then shoved it in front of me. “One dollar.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s dollar beer night for all the hotties. Stick around till closing and I’ll show you what else you can get for free.”
It would have been better if I could have smiled, but the best I could manage was avoiding a grimace. I took a sip of the beer. “We’ll see.”
He winked and headed to the other side of the bar to break up an arm-wrestling match that had already taken out four peoples’ drinks.
I turned around and looked across the bar, finally spotting Ida Belle and Gertie.
Ida Belle was sitting on a windowsill at the back of the bar, in a perfect position to hear conversation at the two tables in front of her, just as soon as someone turned the music down.
Once the karaoke got started, there would be time in between the singing.
Gertie was standing near a dartboard, watching some men play a round and reading some sort of card.
I glanced back at the bar where I’d seen a similar card and groaned.
It was the karaoke list. If she started singing, Ida Belle might just leave her here to fend for herself.
And that was the best-case scenario. I’d heard Gertie sing.
Worst case, if she sang too early and everyone wasn’t drunk yet, the whole bar would leave.
Behind me, I heard the word “gator” and leaned back on my stool, trying to listen in on the conversation.
With the music still blaring, I couldn’t catch anything but snatches of sentences, but I picked up “special cut,” “ridiculous price,” and “making a name.” Then they grabbed another round of beer and headed off for the dartboard.
I pulled out my phone and sent Gertie a text to get a pic of them and try to listen in if they were talking while playing.
I worried that she might not hear her phone and hoped she’d put it on vibrate.
A second later, she pulled it out of the front of her T-shirt.
I supposed that made sense. Given that the floor was shaking from the loud music and because it was probably about to cave in, you might not even notice a vibration in your pocket.
But on your boobs was a different story.
I turned back to the bar and started scanning the people sitting around it, trying to zero in on my next target.
As I was inspecting a couple of burly-looking guys at the far corner, the bartender stepped directly in front of me, blocking my view.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Not if you’re on the menu,” I said.
He grinned. “A like a woman with a smart mouth. But I was talking about real food. We’ve got barbecue gator tonight with Cajun fries. On special for $15.99 a plate. That’s a three-dollar discount just for you, sweetheart.”
I frowned. I was no gator expert, but I knew Francine charged way less than that when she served it at the café. “That’s a little steep, isn’t it?” I asked. “Does it come with gold plating or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. It’s just a special cut. Way better than average gator. You know, like them high-end steak places have better cuts than the grocery store.”
I had no idea if he was pulling my leg or not, but at those prices, I didn’t think the gator would exactly be flying out the door.
Not with a crowd more concerned with spending their money on cigarettes and booze.
But then I supposed if they were drunk enough and hungry, they might go for it.
Which meant Whiskey was either the smartest businessman I’d met or the dumbest. I already knew which way I was leaning.
“I guess it’s hard to get this time of year,” I said. “That would affect price, too.”
“It can be hard, but I stocked up earlier this year. Now I gotta make room for the new season coming up.”
“It sounds good,” I said. “Do you do the barbecue yourself?”
“Why? You like a man who can cook?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
He nodded. “I do all the barbecue and the smoked meats. I’ll be serving it in about ten minutes. Let me know if you’re interested. Word got around that I was cooking up something special, so it’s gonna go fast. But I’ll make sure you get some if you want it.”
He winked and headed through the door at the back of the bar that I presumed led into the kitchen. My phone buzzed and I looked down. It was a text from Ida Belle.
You getting anything from that moron?
I tapped in my response.
Yeah. Hit on. If he does it again, I’m going to shoot him. Also, he’s serving BBQ gator tonight at really high prices.
Her reply was instant.
Really? Get a pic.
I sighed. I knew it had to be done, but the last thing I wanted was that idiot thinking I was interested in him. And he would definitely take it that way. The kitchen door opened and he stepped back behind the bar. I motioned him over.
“I think I’d like to try that gator,” I said.
“Great. You wanna try anything else?”
“I’m still thinking about the anything else. I’m one of those old-fashioned sort of girls. But I wondered if I could get a picture with you? You know…something to help me with my thinking after tonight.”
He looked disappointed when he realized that he wasn’t getting lucky tonight but not completely defeated since he thought the picture meant he was still in the game.
“I’ll just lean across the counter,” I said and put my phone out in front of me.
He leaned in and put his arm around me. I’m sure it was completely by accident—not!—that his hand just happened to rest over my breast. I took the picture and even though I was momentarily blinded by the flash, I managed to spin out from under his arm so fast, I thought I’d given myself whiplash.
He laughed. “Name’s Whiskey, by the way,” he said as he headed back to the kitchen.
I turned around on the stool and saw Ida Belle shaking her head.
I lifted my phone and sent her a text.
Not the first bad guy who’s grabbed my boob.
A few seconds later, I got her response.
Probably not the last either.
I rubbed my eyes and created a text to both Gertie and Ida Belle, more concerned about a bigger problem than random boob assaults.
It’s too dark in here. You can’t get a picture without flash.
Seconds later, I got a reply from Ida Belle.
So hit on anyone you think is a good candidate and get a selfie with them.
Gertie chimed in.
That’s a great idea. I have my eye on a live one playing darts.
Good God.
I grabbed my beer and slid off the stool, somewhat depressed.
Was this what I had to look forward to as a detective?
A career of random boob-grabbing from bad guys?
If so, I was investing in padded bras. It probably wouldn’t hurt in the looks department if I was trying for that kind of attention, and at least there would be more man-made items between dudes’ hands and my naturally occurring items.
I was just about to move to the far side of the bar and see if I could get anything from the two men at the end when the door opened and a familiar face walked in. I whirled around and sent Ida Belle a text.
That game warden that almost ran into us just walked into the bar.