Jailhouse Glock

by Lizbeth Lipperman

  Jack did a one-eighty to see what had caught Carter’s attention. A man and a woman were standing at the other end of the bar talking to the bartender.

  He let out a soft whistle before he could stop himself, allowing his eyes to take an inventory of the woman’s body. The first word that popped into his brain was hot. About five-eight with dark hair that fell to her shoulders, she filled out the turquoise sweater nicely and the black jeans that hugged her slim hips showed off even more curves. Though he couldn’t see her eyes, he imagined they were as dark as her hair. He’d always been a sucker for dark eyes.

  Tearing his gaze from her, he turned back to Carter when he realized the man with her had on a uniform. He’d come this far without screwing up and he had no desire to do so now. The last thing he needed was to be noticed, particularly by a police officer trained to pick up on minor details that the average Joe didn’t.

  “What were you saying about the man who was in the bar fight the other night?”

  Carter had just chugged three shots of Scotch and would be slurring his words soon. Jake had to find out the rest of the story.

  “That’s the cop.”

  “What cop?”

  Carter leaned closer and whispered, “The one who killed the guy in the jail cell the other night.”

  Jake’s curiosity got the best of him and he twisted around for another look. “Are you saying that the guy at the other end of the bar is the one who killed the man from the fight the other night?”

  “Not the guy, the chick. She’s a cop, too. It was all over the news this weekend.”

  Jake knew his mouth most have dropped wide enough for an NFL quarterback to practice precision passing. He’d spent all day Friday trying unsuccessfully to get the facts about his mark getting killed in jail. Nobody was talking and he couldn’t just walk into the police station and ask questions without drawing attention to himself. So he’d gone back to the hotel and pretty much partied all weekend with some blonde, not bothering to watch any TV or read the newspapers.

  Lately, that scenario was happening more and more, and frankly, ending up in his room the next day with a woman whose naked body was the only thing he knew about her, along with one helluva hangover was starting to take its toll. Despite his penchant to stay shit-faced, he’d always prided himself on keeping his investigative skills honed. It looked like even that was heading south.

  He was about to question Carter further when the lady cop looked up and met his gaze.

  Damn! Her eyes were as dark as a Texas prairie on a moonless night. He couldn’t stop himself and smiled.

  So much for staying under the radar.

  nine

  Maddy surveyed the inside of Cowboys Galore the minute she and Tom Rogers walked into the bar. Although she didn’t anticipate trouble, she was unarmed and more than a little nervous. When she became a person of interest in Gino Bernardi’s death, she’d been forced to give up both her badge and her service weapon. She felt naked without them and hoped the little bit of Tae Kwon Do she’d learned from her ten-year-old daughter wouldn’t be necessary.

  Located on the south side of town, Cowboys Galore had been serving drinks in Vineyard for as long as Maddy could remember. It catered to a loyal group of locals, most of whom had been patronizing the bar for years. On Friday and Saturday nights some aspiring country band would show up and play a few sets. The bar reminded her of the one in the TV sitcom Cheers where everybody knew your name. That might prove helpful when she and Rogers interviewed the customers in their search for answers.

  The bar itself curled around the entire length of the room and featured a flat-screen TV directly in the center above the rows and rows of liquor bottles. On either end there was a cage with a pole in the center. It didn’t take a genius to know what these were for, even though there were no Cowboys dancing in skimpy outfits at the current time.

  Actually, the only female besides her was a brunette sitting by herself one stool over nursing a beer. The way she was dressed suggested she might be looking to hook up and probably make some money while she was at it.

  Maddy quickly scolded herself for being so judgmental. She’d always been proud of the fact that she gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. Now wasn’t the time to get high and mighty. After all, her own sister had probably bedded every man in Vineyard at one time or another.

  Where was Tessa anyway? She always seemed to disappear when Maddy needed her the most. If anyone knew how to sweet talk the bartender, it definitely was her.

  Sitting around the bar were several men enjoying a brew, either alone or with a fellow afternoon drinking buddy, and watching last night’s hockey game rebroadcast on ESPN. Maddy felt reasonably safe in going with her gut and thinking that none of them posed a problem. At the other end, two men were playing pool and stopped to glance up when she and Rogers walked in. The way the taller of the two sneered at her had her reaching for her gun before remembering that it was locked up at the police station. She decided it might be a good idea to keep her eye on that one, just in case.

  Then her gaze settled on a guy sitting on the far end of the bar. At first she thought he was also a participant in the billiards game, but then decided he was merely an observer. A longer look told her that he probably towered over six feet and was definitely easy on the eyes. Wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt and jeans that hung nicely over his boots, the guy was watching her intently, causing a warm feeling to skitter up her neck.

  With sandy blond hair that curled at his ears and eyes that seemed to undress her even from that distance, he could only be described as a hottie. The Big and Rich song that Gino Bernardi had quoted when he’d tried to snag a quickie with her the night he was killed popped into her head. “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” it was called. It made way more sense now as she tried but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the eye candy at the end of the bar. Involuntarily, the flush moved from her neck to her cheeks, making her feel like a shy teenager.

  And then the man smiled at her!

  Quickly, she jerked her body back around to face Rogers, who was now standing against the bar conversing with the bartender. She chastised herself for acting like a “girl” and took two steps forward to stand beside Rogers, purposely keeping her back to the other end of the bar where she could feel the intense stare of the guy with the eyes that she would bet were still undressing her.

  She slid between Rogers and the sexy brunette, who looked amazing in a bright yellow halter top. She’d just finished off an O’Doul’s and was waving her hand to get the bartender’s attention.

  Non-alcoholic beer is worthless, Tessa said, suddenly appearing and moving to the other side of the woman. It’s like a vibrator without batteries. It will definitely fill you up, but you don’t get the buzz.

  Maddy bit her lower lip to keep from smiling, wondering where in the hell her sister came up with some of the things she said.

  “So you were working the other night the police were called in because of a rumble?” Rogers asked.

  “I wouldn’t call it a rumble. Some short guy got a little too friendly with a big guy’s girlfriend, that’s all. The dude didn’t stand a chance. Lucky for him a few of the regulars pulled the other guy off before he ended up in the emergency room—or worse.”

  “Were either of the two guys regulars?” Maddy asked. When the bartender turned to her with a question in his eyes she explained, “I’m working undercover on this one.”

  He gave her an appreciative nod after his eyes moved up and down her body, making her wish she hadn’t worn the blue sweater that had shrunk a tad when Jessie had mistakenly thrown it into the dryer last week. “I’ve seen the big guy and his girlfriend in here before, but that was the first time the shorter one’s graced us with his presence, at least to my knowledge.”

  “In your opinion, was it simply a bar fight between two strangers that got out of hand, or did you think the two men knew each other?” She edged closer wondering if the cute guy was still staring but afraid
to turn around and find out.

  The bartender swiped a wet rag over the surface of the bar before setting a brand-new bottle of O’Doul’s in front of the brunette. “I don’t think they knew each other because the bigger guy didn’t call him by name. Actually called him dickhead, if I’m remembering correctly, for making a pass at the woman, which was kind of unusual in itself.”

  “Unusual, how?” Maddy asked, her interest piqued.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a gut feeling, but I’d had my eye on the big guy for a few weeks. I couldn’t seem to figure him out. Usually, he came in by himself and sat at one end of the bar. Before long the woman, whose honor he was defending that night, would wander in and find a seat at the other end.” He stopped to point in that direction, and Maddy resisted the urge to look that way.

  “She always wore clothes that captured the attention of every redneck in here, and trust me when I say she was never by herself for long. At least two or three cowboys would hotfoot it her way to be the first to buy her a drink.”

  “That’s weird,” Maddy said, squinting her eyes. “Do you think the big guy and the lady just hooked up that night and he got a little hacked that the stranger was interrupting his turn with her?”

  The bartender shrugged. “Hard to tell. All I know is that I’ve seen the lady walk out of the bar with at least four different guys on four separate occasions, and it never seemed to bother the man before that night. And you can bet that if I noticed the little indiscretions playing out, he did, too. The dude had to know she wasn’t the kind of girl you take home to your mother.”

  Oh please! Look around, Bozo. Most of these losers in here aren’t worth the effort, even for a girl like that, unless there was an exchange of the green paper with presidents on them. They’re all lucky the old saying ‘Beauty is in the eyes of the beer holder’ is true. Otherwise, none of these yahoos would ever have a long-term sexual relationship with anyone except Rosie Palm and her five sisters. Tessa paused before pointing to the other end of the bar. Except for maybe that tall one down there who can’t seem to take his eyes off my sister, the cop.

  Maddy turned that way, only to find the good-looking guy still staring at her. This time, though, his unsmiling eyes seemed to be boring a hole into her, as if he were trying to figure her out. Quickly she glanced back toward the bartender.

  “Then why did you think the woman was his girlfriend?” Rogers asked, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at the brunette’s cleavage, which was pretty impressive.

  “Because he told the other guy if he ever touched his woman again, he’d kill him.”

  “Hmm. That’s strange. He actually called her his woman?”

  When the bartender nodded, Rogers turned to Maddy. “Any more questions?”

  She thought about it for a minute. “Do you happen to know this woman’s name?”

  “I think he called her Kristi or Sissy. Something like that. I can tell you, though, that she has big blond hair and enough jewelry to start her own pawn shop. Sorry I can’t be more help. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see several thirsty guys who are about to start a mutiny.” He grabbed two Bud Lights from under the bar and headed in the direction of the two cowboys sitting several stools over. They were definitely looking unhappy and now getting vocal with their demands.

  Maddy, ask this slut puppy about the woman, Tessa said. I saw her whole body stiffen when the bartender talked about the other chick.

  Maddy swiveled to face the brunette who was working hard at pretending not to be interested. “Did you know the woman we’re talking about from the other night?”

  The brunette shook her head and quickly chugged the rest of her O’Doul’s.

  That’s bullshit, Tessa said. I saw the way she reacted when you asked what the other lady’s name was. She knows who you’re talking about, Maddy. I’m sure.

  Maddy inched closer and stood there until the woman finally glanced up. “I’d hate to have to take you down to the police station for this information, but I will if I have to. All I’m asking for is a name.”

  The woman hesitated for only a minute. “I don’t know anything about—”

  Maddy grabbed her arm and lifted her off the barstool. “Let’s see if a trip downtown will jog your memory.”

  She hoped Tessa was right. Otherwise, she was harassing this woman for no good reason, other than the fact that she liked to sit at a bar in the middle of the afternoon drinking fake beer—and quite possibly, hooking. But Maddy wasn’t vice and couldn’t care less how the woman paid her rent.

  “Wait,” the brunette said squirming out of Maddy’s hold. “I’m not sure, but I think the woman you’re talking about may live down the street from me. If she’s the one I’m thinking about, her name is Chrissy Rockford.”

  Told you she knew who you were talking about, Tessa said, obviously proud of herself. Now ask her where she buys her bras. Gravity’s a bitch, big sister.

  _____

  “So what’d you think?” Rogers asked, as soon as they left the bar.

  “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.” Maddy blew out a breath. “You know how guys can get when they’ve had a little too much to drink and someone looks at them funny. All of a sudden they think they’re Rocky Balboa.”

  “Yeah, but the bartender said he called her his woman right before he decked the guy.”

  “My guess is that a lot of guys at the bar probably called her that at one time or another. Seems like she got around,” Maddy said, already thinking about how she and her sisters would approach Chrissy Rockford.

  “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll let Colt know this was probably a dead-end so we can concentrate on another angle.”

  They reached her car first, and she turned to face him. “Like what angle?”

  “Like why the dead guy wore a Rolex watch and carried five grand into a bar, for starters. There’s got to be something up with that.”

  “I’m sure if there is, you’ll find it.” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for letting me tag along, Tom.”

  He grinned down at her. “It’s not like I volunteered to bring you, you know.”

  She laughed. “Small price to pay for my silence about your hot diner girl.” She opened the car door and slid in.

  Already planning her next move with a visit to Chrissy Rockford, she passed by Rogers’s car and waved. Although she and her sisters would definitely check out the woman, she cautioned herself not to get too hopeful. There was only a slim chance that the lady of the night might be able to give them anything that could help her defense.

  More than likely she was simply a barfly, someone like the “Queen of the Silver Dollar” in that Dr. Hook song, and she probably used Cowboys Galore as an alternative to walking the streets. All those good old boys would be like a smorgasbord to her, especially after they got liquored up and listened to their small heads when there was the possibility of getting a quick blow job before going home to a wife and six kids.

  As if a light bulb went off in her head, she thought back to a conversation she’d had with Bernardi before he died. He’d mentioned that Maddy would have to be a superstar in the sack since his Chrissy was one helluva contortionist. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore. Maddy smiled as she turned the corner on Main Street, thinking she finally had a solid clue to pursue.

  Her mind still on how she would approach the woman, she nearly missed the hardware store and swerved at the last minute into the parking lot. She’d made a decision after her lawyer had left earlier that day. She’d do whatever was necessary to get the money for his retainer. It was now or never.

  As much as she hated the idea, the entire upper floor of her house was sitting empty, waiting for her to get the extra cash to decorate the front bedroom for Jessie. There were actually two bedrooms upstairs and a full bath, and if she could get a couple of college kids or maybe even a flight attendant or two to rent from her, that would definitely make her life easier.

  Jes
sie would be disappointed. She’d been waiting ever since the remodeling was finished to move from the tiny bedroom downstairs to her own private digs upstairs. But she’d understand. Besides, it was only temporary, and as soon as Maddy was cleared of Bernardi’s murder, things would go back to their normal live-from-paycheck-to-paycheck routine.

  She parked the car and nearly sprinted to the store, thinking if she didn’t just go and do it, she’d change her mind. Thirty minutes later, she emerged with the biggest ROOM FOR RENT sign they had and was already thinking what else she could do to stimulate her cash flow.

  Too bad she couldn’t use the twenty-five grand that whoever was trying to frame her had deposited into her bank account.

  Then there was the little issue of finding out from her daughter why Tony Pirelli had an eight-by-ten of her talking to Bernardi on their porch. If anyone was counting, that made twice now that her daughter had been in close proximity to a really bad guy.

  What the hell kind of cop was she that she couldn’t even protect her own daughter?

  Driving home, she thought about how one goes about renting out a room in one’s house. What would she say to the people who she absolutely did not want around her daughter without provoking a discrimination suit?

  And was there a renter’s agreement she could download from the Internet? Would it be simple enough for someone of her pay grade to figure out? Maybe this was something she could ask her hot new lawyer.

  Thinking about how Tony Pirelli had looked that morning in his charcoal gray suit—a suit she was sure had not come off a rack—made her smile. After going through all these months without even one date, what was going on with her libido? In the course of twenty-four hours, she’d already thought seriously about getting it on with not one, but two complete strangers.

  Maybe she was more like the brunette at the bar than she wanted to believe.

  Or—oh, dear Lord—my sister.

  ten

  Rolando Soliz smiled at Mary Ellen Davidson when he passed the nurses’ station with a cart full of clean linen. For the entire two weeks he’d been on the job at Vineyard Regional Hospital he’d had his eye on the petite young nurse. With her strawberry blond hair and all those freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose, she was the proverbial girl-next-door—and definitely virginal. He’d overheard her telling one of the other nurses how she believed in one man, one marriage.