Neither of the guys had ever been to Hog Wild. That was no big surprise. The bar was on the outskirts of a little town called Wellington, about forty miles southwest of Cleveland.
The town itself was as charming as a picture book illustration, with cute little shops and Victorian houses heavy on the gingerbread. The outskirts? Not so much.
We pulled into a blacktopped parking lot in front of a cement block building with a lighted sign above the door that said hog wild, and I took a moment to look around. Away from the glare of the sign, the shadows that hugged the building were long and dark. The lot was filled with motorcycles of all shapes and sizes.
And one lone Honda Civic.
My hopes rose. So did my anxiety level. “She’s here,” I told the guys.
Delmar was sitting in the front passenger seat, and he put a hand on my arm. His black leather jacket was hand-painted with graffiti, and the silver studs in his lip, his eyebrow, and his nose reflected the glaring light and winked at me. “Maybe you should wait in the car.”
He was a smart kid; he should have known better. I shook off his hand. “My friend is in there,” I reminded him. “And I’m not going to let you two jokers go in and rescue her and get all the glory.”
“And who’s going to rescue you?”
This from Reggie, who leaned over the seat, studying me. I’d been in such a rush to figure out what Ella was up to and to get to her before she could do it, I hadn’t changed clothes after work. I was wearing a cute little black denim skirt and a beige-y V-neck cami trimmed in lace. Back at the cemetery, I’d given in to the pressures of business over fashion and topped the whole thing off with a lightweight black cardigan, but it was a warm evening and I’d taken that off when I got in the car and tossed it in the backseat. I reached for it. “I’ll just—”
“Don’t bother.” Reggie popped open the back door and swung out onto the blacktop. “It’s gonna take more than a little sweater to keep the guys in a place like this off you.”
This was not the encouraging rah-rah speech I needed.
I gulped and reconsidered taking Delmar’s advice and staying put. Except that the thought of Ella in the Hog Wild doing I-don’t-know-what made my stomach turn, and really, there was only one way to take care of that problem.
Reggie insisted on going first, and maybe that was a good thing, because just as we walked in, the country song wailing from the jukebox ended and a hush fell over the place. I guess most of the patrons were regulars because I heard a young guy in a corner booth growl the word “strangers,” and one by one, heads swiveled and patrons looked our way.
Well, they looked Reggie’s way.
Until they saw me.
Hog Wild was the size of a double garage, with a bar along one wall, booths along the other, and tables crammed everywhere in between except for the small empty square of floor that was used for dancing. Friday night, and the place was packed with men and women in jeans, black leather, bandanas, and what I suspected were more tattoos and piercings per square foot than in any other establishment in Wellington.
Every single one of the guys watched me walk over to the only empty table, and OK, I might have been a little stand-offish, but hey, none of them was exactly my type. And I was preoccupied, remember. All that black leather. All those piercings. All those tattoos.
And no Ella.
Just to be sure, I took another look around. A guy with no teeth raised his beer bottle in my direction. A guy with a Mohawk winked. A couple others gave me looks that made shivers crawl up my spine. And I do not mean the good kind.
The bartender was a sixty-some-year-old guy as big as a house with a shaved head and a ring in his nose. He crossed his arms over a chest the size of a small European monarchy, and he and Reggie exchanged nods.
“Beers,” Reggie said.
“I’d really rather have—” One look from Reggie stopped me before “apple martini” could cross my lips. “Beer will be just fine,” I said, and took the nearest seat.
Our beers came in cans and were a brand I had never heard of. Reggie and Delmar sipped theirs, and while they did, I took the opportunity to take a second look around Hog Wild. Another song started up on the jukebox, and keeping an eye on us, the crowd went back to drinking and smoking. (By the way, the smoking part is illegal in restaurants and bars in Ohio, but I think it’s safe to say I was not the good citizen who was going to point this out.)
“She’s not here.” I looked from Reggie to Delmar, and honestly, I don’t know what I expected them to do. Nothing, maybe. Maybe just commiserate with the worry that was eating me from the inside out. “Something’s wrong. Ella’s car is here, but she isn’t. We’ve got to talk to the people. We’ve got to—”
Reggie took a long gulp of beer. “We will,” he said, swiping the back of one hand across his mouth. “But this isn’t the kind of place you just waltz into and start asking questions. We’ve got to show that we’re part of the crowd first, that we’re just here for a good time.”
I understood the wisdom of this approach, I just didn’t like it. The blood thrumming in my ears, I forced myself to sip my beer, the better to fit in.
Which was, of course, next to impossible. It’s a safe bet that I was the only woman there who knew anything about good grooming, color coordination, and the very bad fashion faux pas of squeezing a body full of lumps, bumps, and bulges into tight black leather. Honestly, could I help the look that must have crossed my face when a six-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound woman in silver-studded leather pants, a leather jacket, and a tiny leather bustier squeezed behind me on her way to the bar?
She jostled my chair, and my stomach slammed into the table.
I bit my tongue. Accidents happen, especially in crowded bars. I forced myself to ignore Leather Lady and keep my mind on my mission. “Can we talk to the bartender now?” I asked Reggie.
“Cool your jets.” He finished his beer and signaled toward the bar for another round. “The way you’re acting, you’d think we never investigated a murder before.”
I was in mid-sip, and I looked at Reggie over the lip of my beer can. “Who said anything about murder?”
Delmar made a face. “Nobody needed to. Why else would you and that nice Ms. Silverman be in a place like this? And why do you think we wanted to come along? Heck, hangin’ with you and solvin’ those murders last summer, that’s just about the coolest thing we’ve done in as long as we can remember.”
“You don’t think we came for the atmosphere, do you?” Reggie threw an arm over the back of the empty chair next to him, and as cool as ice, he looked around.
When he blanched, I sat up like a shot. “What? What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothin’.” The beers arrived, and keeping one eye on the bar, Reggie handed the server a ten, waited for change, and popped the top on his beer. “Just a guy over there.” He slid a look toward the far end of the bar. “Somebody I used to know.”
I looked that way, too. It wasn’t hard to pick out the guy Reggie knew. He was glaring at our table, and I swear I could just about feel the wall of anger that washed our way.
“Somebody who liked you, right?” Wishful thinking at its best. I actually might have fooled myself into believing it if Reggie didn’t scoot his chair over, discreetly positioning it so that his back was toward the bar. “Please tell me it’s not somebody who’s gunning for you.”
Delmar cringed. “Bad choice of words.”
That thrumming in my ears picked up tempo. Keeping time with it, I drummed my fingers against the sticky table and took another look around hoping for some sign of Ella.
No luck.
“I don’t like this,” I said. “I’m going to walk around and check things out. Maybe—” I was already getting up when Leather Lady came back the other way, slammed into me, and knocked me back into my seat.
Like anybody could blame me for getting a little defensive?
I looked up at the mountain of flesh and leather, years of proper manners n
ot forgotten, even in the face of so much ugly. “Excuse me?”
She was already past me, and she turned and stepped back to look me over. “Are you talking to me, bitch?”
Reggie put a hand on my left arm.
Delmar grabbed my right hand.
I twinkled like a beauty queen. “I’m sure you were trying to be careful where you were going, I just thought I’d point out that if you went around the other way…” I pointed one perfectly manicured finger (after the trash pickup incident, I’d gone for a well-deserved touch-up) toward the empty square of dance floor. “Well, there’s more room over there.”
“And you think I need more room, why?”
Oh, my! When faced with a question that blunt, how can a girl possibly lie?
I got to my feet. Sure, Leather Lady had a hundred pounds and more on me, but in my black-and-white cheetah print and patent leather sandals with their four-inch heels, I had the height advantage. I intended to use it for all it was worth—and I would have, too, if a flash of color on the other side of the bar hadn’t caught my eye. I’d recognize that spiky red hair anywhere.
I didn’t excuse myself. But then, I was over the whole polite thing. Too relieved and grateful to see Ella in one piece to question where she’d gotten a black leather jacket and how on earth she thought a woman her age could be seen in public in peg-leg jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of Ozzy Osbourne on it, I hurried over and intercepted her while she was standing outside the ladies’ room, tentatively glancing around and looking more than a little lost. By the time I grabbed her hand and brought her back to the table, Leather Lady was gone.
“Oh, my.” Ella glanced at me, at Delmar, at Reggie. Her cheeks got red, but then, it was warm in there. “What are you all doing here?”
“That’s what Pepper wants to ask you.” Delmar correctly figured that I wasn’t going to drink the second beer Reggie ordered for me. He pushed the can in front of Ella. “We was worried.”
“About me?” Ella tried for a sparkling smile, but when it comes to that sort of thing, she’s just not in my league. She looked more flustered than feisty. “How did you know—”
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is what you’re doing here. Ella…” She was playing with the can of beer, turning it in her hands and flicking the pop top, and I touched a hand to her arm to get her attention. “What are you up to?”
Ella shrugged. Her cheeks got a little redder. “I didn’t think I’d have to explain myself. I mean, I never imagined I’d run into anyone I knew here. Now that it comes down to it…” Her gaze moved to the table and stayed there. “It’s a little embarrassing.”
I gulped. “You’re not into leather. Or tattoos. Ella, you don’t have some secret life as a biker babe, do you?”
She managed a laugh, and I let go the breath I was holding. With one finger, she made a figure eight on the table. “Actually, I was investigating.”
This was just about as big a surprise as learning she might be a biker babe.
When I realized it was hanging open, I snapped my mouth shut. “Investigating because…”
“Well, it’s all your fault, Pepper.” Ella plumped back in her chair. “For a couple reasons. First of all, I’ve watched you all these years, and I’ve seen you find out information and help people and solve crimes. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I figured, how hard could it be? Until I got here.” When she looked around, the color in her cheeks drained. “I thought I was dressing the part.” She looked down at her middle-aged-lady-imagines-biker-life outfit and shrugged. “I never thought I’d have to interact with people…well, you know…with people like this.” She caught herself and realized she might have offended. “Not that I have anything against anyone who might possibly have a criminal background,” she added for Delmar and Reggie’s benefit. “They’re just not—”
“Not in your class, Ms. Silverman,” Delmar said.
“Not people you should be hanging with,” Reggie added.
Ella nodded. “You make it look so easy,” she told me. “But I got here and…” She fanned her face with one hand. “I got a little overwhelmed. I’m ashamed to admit that I was hiding in the ladies’ room. I think I might have stayed in there all night if two girls hadn’t come in and started comparing the tattoos they had on their—”
A rush of color left Ella looking like a ripe apple. She leaned closer and lowered her voice so the guys couldn’t hear. “Their butts,” she said. The message delivered, she was free to include Delmar and Reggie in the conversation again. “I had to get out of there, and I was going to give up on investigating altogether and head home. That’s when I walked out of the ladies’ room and you found me.”
“Good thing we did.” Two guys over in the corner were scuffling, and Reggie looked their way. “This is no place for either one of you.”
“So what are you doing here?” I wailed. “Ella, what kind of investigating can you possibly do in a place like this?”
“It’s all your fault.” She plucked at the sleeve of her jacket. “Yours and Ariel’s. It’s not like I haven’t thought about Lucy in all these years. Of course I have. I could never forget Lucy. But what with Ariel running away and then you asking all those questions about Lucy…well, it got me to thinking.”
“Lucy?” Reggie leaned forward. “Is that whose murder we’re investigating?”
“Nobody said she was dead,” Ella snapped. “But nobody knows what happened to her, either. And thinking about it…” She ran a hand through her hair. In honor of the occasion, she’d added more gooey gel than usual to her do, and I swear, I heard it snap, crackle, and pop. “I was thinking about everything you asked the last time we talked about Lucy, Pepper.” She turned in her chair so that she was looking directly at me. “And that made me remember things. You know, about the night of the Beatles concert.”
This simple statement made something blossom inside me. Something that felt like hope. I leaned forward, eager to hear more.
“Wanna dance?”
I was so focused on Ella, I didn’t pay much attention to the voice behind me.
Until someone poked my shoulder. “I said, you wanna dance?”
By the time I registered that the question was meant for me and I turned to find a burly guy with a chew of tobacco in one cheek smiling down at me, Reggie was already on top of things. He ran a hand up and down my arm. “This is my old lady,” he said.
Before I could object to either his choice of adjectives or the too familiar way he was touching me, Reggie shushed me with a look.
The burly guy eyed Reggie and decided I wasn’t worth the fight.
I thanked Reggie by handing him money and telling him to get himself another beer, and once he walked up to the bar, I got back down to business.
“The night of the Beatles concert…” I pinned Ella with a look. “What about it?”
“Well, I told you I saw Lucy talking to Mr. Monroe. Patrick Monroe, he was an English teacher at our high school,” she added for Delmar’s benefit. “But the more I thought about it, the more I remembered about that night. Mr. Monroe wasn’t the only one Lucy talked to at the concert.”
Now she had my attention! I waited for more.
“You remember what I told you about that night, Pepper,” Ella said. “I said we left our seats during the intermission, before the Beatles came on. I walked out of the ladies’ room, and that’s when I saw Lucy with Mr. Monroe. When they were done talking, Lucy told me to get in line and order a Coke for her, that she’d be right back. But when I got the Coke and went looking for her, I didn’t see her anywhere. I finally found her with Darren.”
It was my turn to supply Delmar with the running commentary. “Darren was a friend. He and Ella and Lucy, they all went to the concert together.”
Ella nodded. “Which is why I never thought anything of it. Lucy and Darren were friends, only…” Ella worked over her lower lip with her teeth.
“You’re not betraying a confidence,” I said as a way of u
rging her on. “Lucy’s secrets don’t matter anymore.”
“But she and Darren weren’t dating or anything.” As if the very idea was impossible, she clicked her tongue. “If they were, I would have known. Everyone would have. Girls who dated Darren considered themselves the luckiest girls at Shaker. Lucy never would have kept that a secret.”
“Except…”
“Except just the way they were standing there together…” Thinking back, Ella narrowed her eyes and tipped her head. “Darren put a hand on Lucy’s arm and I don’t know, just something about it…it made me think that maybe there was something going on between them. Not that I think he had anything at all to do with Lucy’s disappearance! Like I said, they were friends, and Darren is a prominent businessman. Don’t get me wrong, Pepper. I’m not accusing him. I’m not accusing anyone. Like I said, I was just thinking. About everything that happened that night.”
This still didn’t explain Hog Wild. I waited for more.
“When Lucy and Darren were done talking, Lucy walked away,” Ella continued, “and it was crowded so it was really hard for me to see where she went to. I was pretty short back then.”
I bit my tongue.
“I wandered around for a while, and the next thing I knew, I saw Darren and Janice talking together. Janice Sherwin,” she supplied the information to Delmar, who was looking more confused by the moment. “Janice came to the concert with us, too, and Janice and Darren had always been friends, but I’ll tell you what, they didn’t look friendly that night. Janice’s cheeks were fiery and she pointed a finger in Darren’s face.” Ella demonstrated, using me as the target. “I tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about, but that’s when I heard Lucy’s voice behind me. She was telling somebody to get lost. I turned around, and that’s when I saw…” As if she was almost afraid to look, Ella slowly turned toward the bar.
A Hard Day's Fright Page 10