A Highball and a Low Blow
by
Constance Barker
Copyright 2018 Constance Barker
All rights reserved.
Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
SOME LITTLE GIRLS DREAM of becoming a veterinarian, doctor, or nurse. For a little while when I was five or six, I may have fantasized about becoming a princess and maybe even owned a frilly, pink costume dress. But living in Potter’s Mill, a small southern town about forty-five minutes from Savannah, that quickly passed. Several of my friends grew up while helping their parents with crops and animals; I helped mine run a pub. It was just the way it was since the business has been in my family for one hundred and fifty years. I was destined to be the next owner. And that is fine by me. The Grumpy Chicken is home and has provided me many friends and fond memories.
I should mention the rumors that the pub is haunted by an ornery bird, our namesake grumpy chicken. When young, I resented hearing stories of the said feathery ghost since we lived in an apartment over the pub. The possibility of sharing our home with a poltergeist spooked me as a little girl. But now as an adult who manages The Grumpy Chicken, I endure debates with my father on how to market our alleged haunted drinking and dining establishment. I wish my mom was still alive to help me gently deal with some of Dad’s more far-fetched promotion ideas.
“Ginger, what about this? You know how they do dinner shows in the city? The ones where you need to help solve a crime or something. We can offer dinner and a seance. This pretty lady here can try to make contact with the grumper after we serve up a nice dinner to the crowd.” Dad put his arm around Star, our town medium, and shook her softly.
We just finished with serving the lunch rush and were sitting at a table in the dining room enjoying a drink with Star, the owner of the new age shop next door to us. I twirled the ice in my tea and laid the teaspoon on the table. “Dad, I think your ideas are always interesting. But we’re a simple Irish pub and trying to contact a chicken ghost is kind of...weird. And the last few months since The Ghost Hounds were here have been really busy. We don’t need to worry about drumming up business.”
“Yeah, but how long will the boost we got from that silly TV show keep the people coming in? We can use the ol’ grumper to get new customers interested.”
“We barely keep up with the crowds now, even with adding Becca to wait tables part-time. If the business starts to fall off, then we can talk about some marketing ideas. But for now, I’m struggling to keep the place stocked and the customers happy.”
“Sweetie, you’re missing the big picture here. The sky’s the limit!”
“I know you think big, Dad, but right now we need to get back to work.” I love my father, but his recent obsession with marketing our alleged chicken spirit was draining. “We’re just simple pub owners and we need to focus on keeping the beer flowing and the food edible.”
Star took a deep breath. “Ginger, we’ve made some good money from the merchandise your Dad and I sell at the new age shop. We could use some of that money to buy props and dress up the dining room for the event. I think it would be fun.” Star smiled and raised her eyebrows instead of asking what I thought.
I sighed. “I know you two love this, but it’s not my cup of tea.”
Dixie wiped the bar surface as she shouted over to us. “Hey! Is the iced tea council of Trent done yet? You going to ever get back to work?”
Dad responded. “Hey, yourself! I’m the boss. Is that any way to talk to me?”
“I’ve said far worse to you, old-timer, and you know it.” Dixie smiled at Dad and he returned it. She continued, “Well? You know I’m right. We’ve citrus to cut, food to prep, kegs to swap out, dishes to wash...”
Bones shouted from the kitchen. “I’m washing the dishes. I got that one.”
Dixie finished. “...And we didn’t get our liquor delivery.”
I banged my hand on the table. “Again! That’s becoming a problem.”
Dixie came over and sat down with us. “Ginger, maybe you should talk to Jacob. I know you’re loyal to our suppliers, but I need to have full bottles of liquor on the shelf or we don’t sell drinks. Simple as that.”
I eyed her for a moment. “How do I put this politely? I have reservations about my cheating ex-husband becoming a supplier for us.”
Dad added, “I don’t like it at all. Never liked that English lad.”
I turned to Dad. “Look, business is business. So I think we just need to go over to the general store and see Freddie Warner. Talk to him. If he can’t keep us supplied, then maybe I’ll take a call from Jacob. Lord knows he calls every week.” I took a sip of my iced tea.
Dixie plopped against the back of her chair and folded her arms. “Bull snots! You know Freddie can’t keep us stocked. He’s just a general store and is used to selling a case of wine at the most. Since the TV show was here, we’re going through cases of hard liquor and a number of kegs every week. We need a real distributor supplying us now. And in this area, your ex just happens to be the sales rep for booze.”
Star tilted her head to one side. “Ginger, how long have you been divorced now?”
I twirled my spoon again. “Almost four years. You know that.”
Star nodded. “That’s what I thought, but I wasn’t sure. Do you still have feelings for him?”
Dad huffed. “She better not, that no good son of a...”
“Dad, stop. We all know you don’t like him and it’s of no use to put your cash in the swear jar over him.”
Dad grumbled. “I can’t believe I can’t cuss in my own pub.”
I laughed. “It’s a family place, Dad, and your rule. You put it in place to control Dixie. Remember?”
Dad folded his arms. “Yeah, I remember. Does bull snots count?”
Dixie and I replied together. “No.”
Star shuffled in her seat. “Soooooo, when you’re ready to conduct a seance, I can do it on pretty short notice. Let me know.” She stood. “I need to get back to work. I don’t like leaving the store closed for too long. I need to get back in case someone just wants to pop in for a reading. Thanks for the iced tea and bye for now.” Star waved at us as she started for the exit.
While walking toward the front door, Star stopped and put a hand to her temple for a moment, then turned back to us. “Ginger, it’s kind of strange, but something is telling me Jacob will call you today.” Star looked at the ground and shuddered. “And it’s important you speak with him.”
I stood and went over to put my arm around her. “Are you alright? You look a little white.”
Star smile
d. “All in a days work for a medium.”
Dixie snorted. “Well, glad I’m not a medium then. That looks like it hurt.”
Star rubbed her eyes. “It doesn’t hurt. But sometimes I get a little dizzy, or even nauseous.”
Dixie chuckled. “Maybe it’s more like my job than I thought. I get dizzy and nauseous all the time putting up with the regulars in here.”
I glared at Dixie then helped Star sit again. That was when the phone at the bar rang. Dixie rose from her seat and went to answer. She spoke to the caller for a few seconds then held up the old-fashioned handset of the land line phone with her hand over the mouthpiece. “Ginger, you’re not going to believe this. It’s Jacob.”
I pinched my lips. “Bull snots!”
Star looked up at me. “See, I told you. And you need to talk to him.”
“So I guess I should take this call then.” I walked over to the bar.
Dixie held out the receiver. “You’re stealing my non-swear cuss words now. Do I need to copyright them?”
I grabbed the phone from her. “What should I have said, ‘bull boogers?’ Would that have made you happy?” Dixie shrugged and I put the handset to ear. “Hello, Jacob?”
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s been a while but it’s good to hear your voice.” His voice sounded tired but I recognized it right off.
“Okay, I guess? Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve been calling here, a lot. Why?”
“Well, I can tell you’re not enthused to hear from me. I understand. But please allow me to just say I’m glad you took my call. And as for why I called, you may or may not know I’m the sales rep in this area selling bulk beer and liquor for a regional distributor out of Savannah. I saw you on TV and hear you’re doing a ton of business. So I may have some good deals you’ll be interested in.”
“Well, it just so happens that the general store is having problems keeping us stocked. You might be calling at the right time.”
“Who do you think stocks Freddie over at the general store? We do, through another middleman that just drives your costs up. I can save you some money.”
“Okay. So can we do this over the phone?”
“I guess we could, but face to face is better. And I’m passing by there later this afternoon. I could be there at four. Can you meet?”
I sighed. “Yeah, in the bar. I’m pretty busy, but can take a few minutes with Dixie to meet with you. So four it is.”
I hung up and looked over at Dixie. The grin on her face made the Cheshire Cat look like it was scowling. “Well?”
“Well, you got a meeting with me at four o’clock. I’m not meeting with him alone. So, draft up the order we need filled for liquor and beer, if you haven’t already. Jacob will be here then and we need to talk to him about possibly selling to us.”
Dixie tilted her head back a little. “Well, you don’t have to be so grouchy about it.”
“What? I prefer to think I’m tough, not grouchy. And I just want my pub stocked properly, with no drama.”
She laughed. “That’s you I guess. Ms. Ginger O’Mallory, the no drama but grouchy, I mean tough, businesswoman.”
“That’s nice. Did you get it all out? Now, I need you to get me what you think we need before four, let’s say by three, so we can be prepared to meet Jacob.”
Dixie looked at the clock over the bar. “That’s twenty minutes from now.”
“Yes, it is. You better hurry.”
She wiped a glass, slowly. “I have the list already and we can go over it now if you want. So, ya gonna freshen up. You know, put some makeup on, or something?”
I glared at Dixie. “It’s not like that. I have no interest in impressing him.”
“Sorry, not trying to be nosy.” And with that, I decided this particular discussion was over.
We went to work and four o’clock came fast. Jacob was right on time and all business. He was dressed in a nicely pressed light blue shirt and dark trousers. His black hair was neatly cut and combed. And at his side, he carried an expensive looking leather messenger bag. My ex-husband entered through the front door like he owned the place until an odd sound emanating from every direction within the pub greeted Jacob. Everyone froze. It was hard to describe the noise but the place went quiet. Then it came again. “WHAAAACK!” “WHAAAACK!”
Dixie’s jaw hung and after a few moments, she broke the silence. “Psycho Fido! That sounded like our grumpy chicken trying to impersonate a dog barking at a squirrel.”
I sputtered. “Think about that sentence and how silly it sounds. It’s just the building creaking.”
Dixie looked around. “I never heard anything creak like that before! If that's the building then we need a contractor stat! It was the Chicken and was barking at Jacob.”
I saw Jacob was also looking around and I went over to greet him. I offered my hand for a shake. “I see you still know how to find the place.”
“Yeah, and I see The Grumpy Chicken is still full of surprises. What was that noise?”
I scanned the ceiling. “It’s just the place creaking. We hear all kinds of weird sounds coming from this old building.”
Dad walked over and faced Jacob. “You do anything to hurt Ginger, I swear...’
Jacob waved his hand. “No, this is just business. Yes, it’s good to be back here and see you all. But nothing more.”
Dad eyed him. “Do your business and leave us be.” Dad walked off.
I intercepted the conversation. I needed to keep this professional. “Sorry about Dad. But, you know how he gets!”
Jacob smiled. “As always. Ginger coming to the rescue.”
“So come have a seat at the bar and we can talk about our liquor and beer needs.”
“Thanks.”
We grabbed stools at the end of the bar and finished the pleasantries. Dixie then produced the order we wanted filled and Jacob scanned it. “I can get you all of this, by tomorrow. If we sign the papers today.”
“I would appreciate the fast delivery. I guess that’s the advantage of a full warehouse only forty-five minutes away. But let’s talk price.”
Jacob scribbled a few notes and referenced his phone a couple of times to look things up. Then he totaled the list and showed me the price. I picked it up and reviewed the quote. “I have to admit, Jacob. You were a no good, lying, cheating spouse, but this is a good price. There might be some hope for you as a salesman.”
He smiled. “I’m a great salesman. And since I’m already here, we can sign the contract and expedite your order. You’ll have it tomorrow, just like you wanted.”
“Okay, let’s do it. I need my pub stocked.”
Dad watched us closely from a distance then went out of his way to walk by us and huffed, glaring at Jacob the whole time. “What have we come to? Doing business with this no good...”
Jacob smiled back at Dad. “Just making sure you have beer on tap.”
Dad growled. “My taps have never run dry. That’s bad business for an Irish pub.”
Jacob nodded. “Precisely! And I saved you some money in the process.” Dad looked down his nose at my ex-husband and then stormed away. Jacob turned to me. “So, do they still serve the best chicken fried steak at Grandma's Diner?”
“Yeah, they do. But you gotta call Mable ahead to see if she’s open. She only works when she feels like it.”
“Care to join me?”
Dixie sat up straight like she was pinched. I eyed Jacob for a moment before answering. “You can’t be serious. I’m pretty busy here and will have to pass on your offer.”
“Shame. I would have loved to catch up some more. Hear all about your appearance on that TV show.”
“Yeah, but I have responsibilities here to take care of. But I can call Mable at the diner to see if she is open.”
Jacob smoothed his shirt and put away the binder he had taken out of his bag. “That’s alright. I called Dottie and booked a room over at The Fluffy Pillow. She can help me find a hot meal. It was good to see y’al
l and thanks for the order.”
I smiled at him for the first time. “You’re welcome. And thanks for coming by, helping us get this order taken care of. See ya around I guess.”
“Of course, I’m your number one liquor salesman now.” Jacob was right. It happened fast and he was
our new supplier of adult drinks, a key component to running an Irish pub.
Chapter Two
THE NEXT MORNING I was in the kitchen early getting ready for another busy day. I saw the empty kegs stacked at the rear door and was relieved a liquor delivery was set for today. We were almost out. Around eight thirty, my cell phone rang and I picked up without even looking at who it was. “Hello?”
“Ginger, it’s Kelly.”
“Sheriff? It’s kind of early for you to be calling, what can I do for you? Is Aunt Mae alright?”
“Mae is fine. Listen, I need you to come on down to the station for a chat. Something has happened I need to talk to you about.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s better if you come on down and we can talk about it here.”
“I guess I can be there in twenty.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.” He clicked off.
I finished what I was doing and made some arrangements with Dad to cover everything while I was gone. I left and made the walk over, arriving at the police station to spot a state police car parked out front. This was not a good sign. The state troopers worked with our local department every now and then, and it was always when something awful happened.
I slowly opened the glass door and Eunice saw me entering. “Ginger, so nice to see you. Sheriff Morrison is expecting you. He’s in the conference room.” She pointed down the hall.
“Thanks, Eunice.” I knew the way and made the short walk.
As I entered the room, I saw two uniformed state troopers and another man in street clothes. I was pretty sure he was a plainclothes detective. “Good morning, Sheriff. It’s pretty crowded in here. What can I do for ya?”
Sheriff Morrison pointed to a chair. “Have a seat Ginger.”
A Highball and a Low Blow (Grumpy Chicken Irish Pub Series Book 3) Page 1