She locked the flash drive and her Libby Marshall identification, remaining cash and credit cards in the room safe inside the closet. She put her cell phone on vibrate and turned it to the highest intensity. She added her phone to the items in the cargo pocket. The small burner phone Mario had given her was lying on the bedside table. She picked it up, added it to the pocket and then buttoned it closed.
Less than ten minutes later, she was walking into The Blue Pelican Saloon. The door was on the corner facing the street. The double doors flattened the entrance, providing more space on the corner. She immediately spotted an open seat on the far end of the bar nearest the stage. She hopped onto the seat and took a menu held up by a napkin stand.
“Hi, I’m Trevor. What can I get for you?” Libby looked up into the light blue eyes of the bartender. He looked about thirty and had a wave of dark hair that fell over his forehead, and she noticed his hair curled up at the nape of his neck.
“Good evening, Trevor. I’m Mary Beth, and I’ll start off with a Corona.”
“With lime?”
“Is there any other way?”
“My kind of girl,” he laughed, pulled one from the cooler, removed the top and inserted a lime slice into the opening.
“Thank you,” she said after he placed the bottle on the bar in front of her. As she squeezed the lime into the beer and then pushed it down into the bottle, she said, “There’s nothing better than a cold Corona at the end of a hot day.”
“That’s what keeps me in business.” He smiled and moved on to help another customer further down the bar.
As she drank the beer, she surveyed her surroundings.
The bar was a large rectangle, surrounding the taps, coolers, bottles and setups in the middle. The bartenders could move easily around the workings in the middle to service customers on all sides. The tables were set up in a haphazard arrangement around the room as the customers moved them and the chairs to fit the size of their parties.
To Libby’s right, in the far opposite corner, there was a small, wooden, raised stage that was about a foot higher than the floor. The band was on a break, so the drum, two guitars, a keyboard and speakers were alone on the stage. There was a small cleared area in front of the stage for dancing.
Libby watched closely as the drummer stepped onto the stage and took his place. He was handsome, with a café au lait complexion, and wild chin-length curly hair. He wore cut offs, a classic Star Wars T-shirt and tennis shoes.
Libby sipped her beer as the remaining band members stepped onto the stage one by one. After the drummer, the bass guitar player and the lead guitar player took up their instruments. They were both dressed in khaki shorts and T-shirts. Dressed in dark cargo shorts and a flowered Hawaiian shirt, the keyboardist was the last to take the stage. As the drummer expertly twirled his drumsticks, the keyboardist took his seat and adjusted his microphone. They started to play the opening chords of the first song of the set.
“Welcome to The Blue Pelican Saloon. We’re The Max Holden Band. I’m Max, and we’ll be playing some music for you tonight. If you have any requests, give them to the wait staff, and if we know ‘em, we’ll play ‘em.”
“Do you want to order something to eat?” Trevor asked.
“How’s your peel and eat shrimp?”
“Pretty good.”
“I’ll take the small order and another Corona.”
He began entering information on the touchscreen monitor mounted at counter height. “You here alone or are you meeting someone?” He asked, making general bartender conversation.
As she looked up, at the edge of her peripheral vision, she saw a man who looked vaguely like Mario slide into a seat at the opposite corner of the bar. “I was supposed to meet some business acquaintances here today, but they’re apparently delayed.” She glanced back towards the corner of the bar. It is Mario. She looked back to Trevor and said, “I need something to eat, so here I am.”
“Very lucky for me.”
Libby smiled and gave him the beer bottle salute as she took another drink. “The band is quite good.”
“Yes, they are. They’re our house band. In fact, Max Holden, the leader of the group owns the bar.”
She glanced across the bar and saw that Mario was now drinking a beer and looking in her direction. Turning back to Trevor, she said, “What a great set up. He’s the featured entertainment in his own bar.”
“He comes from a wealthy family. His dad gave him the money to open this place.”
“Must be nice.” She took another drink and wondered what other lies she may discover about Max Holden. “Do you all ever have anyone other than the house band play here?”
“Sometimes, Max does some solo gigs out of town. On those days, the band plays without Max, or they bring someone else in to sing. Why do you ask?” He smiled and pointed at her. “Don’t tell me you’re a musician looking for a gig?”
“Not really, but maybe,” she said and smiled at him, then lowered her eyes. “I’ve been a singer and musician all my life. I’m from Ohio and did some work up there, but lately, I’ve been working in a small place near Tampa. I just thought that, since I’m already here, I’d check out the music scene.” Not exactly a lie. It’s all true.
“What kind of music do you sing?”
“All kinds. From show tunes to country to rock and roll. In fact, my cousin and I did a dueling pianos gig one summer during college.”
“Impressive.”
“It was hard work, but a lot of fun.”
“Bet you got a lot of free drinks.” He winked.
“Yes, I did get my share.”
“Excuse me, I’ll be back.” He moved down the bar to take another order.
She smiled and took another sip of beer. The band was playing a fast country rock song and patrons were starting to dance. She looked towards Mario and smiled. He shook his head and looked away.
Trevor returned with a small bucket of shrimp, a plate, cocktail sauce, napkins and another beer. The shrimp smelled delicious. Libby didn’t realize how hungry she was. She closed her eyes and inhaled the steamy seasoning emanating from the bucket. As she peeled the first one and popped it into her mouth, she felt someone at her left elbow.
“Is this seat taken?”
Thinking it was Mario, she shook her head as she ate the shrimp. “No, help yourself,” she said, not looking at the man sliding onto the stool next to her.
“How’s the shrimp?” He asked.
“Very good, actually,” she said. “Would you like to try one?” She scooted the bucket towards him. She turned, at first not recognizing him. His hair was cut short and close to his head so that it almost stood up. He had a day’s growth of thin, dark stubble. But she knew those eyes. Those brown eyes with the glints of gold. She would know them anywhere.
“Hello, I’m Johnny,” he said with an almost indistinguishable wink.
“Mary Beth,” she said, gesturing towards the bartender but keeping her eyes on Johnny. “And this is Trevor, our bartender.”
“What’s your poison?” Trevor asked.
“Budweiser.”
“Where’re you from?” Trevor asked as he pulled the beer.
“I work a ranch up by Arcadia. I’m meeting some friends to do some flats fishing. I just got here a day early.”
“A real cowboy?” Libby asked.
“Yes, it’s my family’s ranch.”
A couple sat down across the bar. The blonde bartender, Hillary, had stepped away. Trevor excused himself and went to wait for the couple.
“What?” Libby whispered.
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head signaling her not to ask any questions, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer and have some of that shrimp,” he said reaching for the bucket. “I’ll get the next bucket.”
“Mary Beth, if you’re interested, the band usually rehearses in the afternoons about two. If you’d happen to drop by, you might get a short audition,” Trevor said.
“Ar
e you a singer?” Johnny/Jack asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes, I am.” To Trevor, she said, “Thank you. I might drop by tomorrow afternoon.”
After Trevor left, he leaned towards Libby and asked, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Making conversation.” She smiled and peeled another shrimp. She also looked down the bar towards Mario and just barely shook her head with the hope that he would understand that the man sitting next to her was just another random bar customer, not the kidnapper.
Another bucket of shrimp arrived as well as two more beers. Jack pointed across the bar and said, “I think that girl is trying to get your attention.”
“Who?” Libby asked, as she turned to look in the direction he was pointing. Across the bar was the girl from the boat. She was wearing a crown labeled ‘Maid of Honor’ and was ordering a row of shots from Hillary, the blonde bartender. Libby waved and said, “I met her on the boat. Her name is Britney. She’s here for a bachelorette party.”
“She’s motioning for you to come over there.”
“Well, I guess I’m getting an invitation to the party.”
Libby finished the last drops of her beer, hopped off the stool and wove her way through the crowd around the bar to the other side where Britney stood at the bar. Sitting at the table against the wall, sat a bleary-eyed young woman wearing a bridal tiara and three other twenty-something girls wearing crowns that said ‘Bridesmaid.’
“Looks like the bachelorette party is going strong,” she said.
“So good to see you.” Britney nodded towards Jack across the bar and said, “Looks like you haven’t been lonely too long.” To the bartender, she said, “One more tequila shot, please.”
Libby looked towards Jack and said, “That’s Johnny. He’s a cowboy. I just met him tonight.”
Jack was slightly shaking his head ‘no’ as the bartender added another shot glass to the lineup. She looked down the bar towards Mario, who was also shaking his head ‘no.’
Libby smiled at Jack and helped Britney carry the shots to the table. Once at the table, Britney said, “This is Mary Beth. We met on the boat. This is Sarah. She’s the bride.” Britney introduced the other girls as Tiffany, Madison and Taylor, but with the volume of the music and the general noisiness of the bar, Libby wasn’t exactly sure who was who. Deciding it didn’t matter anyway, she acknowledged each with a nod and a wave.
Holding up the shot glass, Britney said, “To Sarah, I wish you all the happiness in the world as you marry your handsome prince.” They threw back the shots and bit the limes.
The bride grimaced, stood, threw up her arms and shouted, “Let’s dance.” The girls headed towards the dance floor, Britney pulling Libby behind her.
The group ended up near the front, close to the stage. They were dancing to a decent cover of “Old Time Rock and Roll,” while Libby was checking out the band members.
Max Holden was a medium built man with sandy hair that looked as if he had forgotten to comb it. Libby thought he was supposed to have that tousled look, but after playing music in a hot bar on a humid night, he was sweaty and looked like he needed a shower. He was sitting on a swiveling stool at the keyboard. His music books were lying on top of the keyboard.
The handsome drummer in the Star Wars shirt was into the music and working the room, smiling at the women in the crowd. The lead guitarist was wearing a Blue Pelican Saloon shirt, and the bass guitarist was wearing a vintage Aerosmith tour shirt.
The drummer caught her eye and smiled. She returned the smile and continued to dance with the bridal party. Obviously, he thought she was checking him out, and perhaps she was.
As the band finished that song and transitioned to “Friends in Low Places,” Libby felt a presence at her elbow. Mario.
“What the hell?” He said into her ear.
“I’m blending in.”
“Who’s the guy at the bar? He keeps watching you like you’re his girlfriend or something.”
“He’s a cop. He followed me here.”
“A cop? Oh man, he’s going to mess us up. Montoya will not be happy.” He turned and headed towards the door
Libby looked after him and then back towards Jack who was leaning on the bar, drinking his beer and watching the interchange between them. I’ll call Mario later when I know more about what’s going on. And after I figure out what Jack has in mind. In the meantime, she figured she’d dance.
After the next song, Max Holden said, “It’s a hot night, and the band needs a cold beer. We’ll be back in ten.”
As the people on the dance floor began to order new drinks or head back to their tables, Libby thanked Britney and said she was going back to her seat at the bar. She wished the bride all the best with her wedding.
Britney leaned into Libby and said, “Have a good time with the cowboy.”
“Thanks for inviting me over. It was fun,” Libby said, hugging Britney.
Libby took the same stool at the bar and asked Trevor for another Corona.
“You looked like you were having fun out there,” Jack said.
“I was. The most fun I’ve had in a long time. Really weird, isn’t it?”
“Who was that guy?”
“What guy?”
“The guy you were talking to.”
“Oh, he just asked me to dance. I said ‘no.’ He didn’t like it. No big deal.”
Trevor set a fresh Corona on the bar and said, “Wow, for someone who didn’t know anyone in town, you’re doing pretty well.”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“In fact, the drummer was asking me about you.”
“The drummer?” She asked, looking at the stage.
“Yes, but, a bit of advice. Stay away from him. He’s a big-time player.”
“Advice I will surely heed,” she said looking from Trevor to Jack to Trevor and back to Jack. Oh God, he’s a smirker! She shrugged, took a drink and looked around the room. The bridal party had ordered up another round of shots. Don’t want to be them in the morning.
She watched as Max Holden stepped onto the stage and began sorting through his music. The two guitarists followed shortly behind him. She searched the room for the drummer and saw him talking to another man near the restrooms. The man was standing in profile in the shadows so that she couldn’t see him very well. He was large, so she assumed he was the bouncer. The drummer did the pal punch to the man’s shoulder and glanced towards her.
She quickly looked away, and by the time she glanced back, the drummer was hopping up on the stage to take his place at the drums and the other man was not in sight.
“Let’s start off with a slow one,” Max said as they began the opening bars of Garth Brooks’ “The Dance.”
“I love this song,” Libby said.
“Want to dance?” Jack asked, offering his hand.
She nodded, took his hand and slid off the bar stool.
Being in his arms felt nice. He pulled her closer until their bodies touched. Her heart was beating so hard she worried he could feel it through her tank top and his thin cotton shirt. To distract herself, she began to hum along with the band.
“You’re a good dancer,” she said pulling back to look him in the eye.
“My mom and older sister liked to dance. I was there when my brothers got too old and unwilling to be corralled into dancing.”
As they moved in time with the music, she glanced over his shoulder. The guitar player was crooning away at the love song, the sweat pouring off his face. The air on the dance floor was so heavy with humidity she could almost feel her hair starting to frizz.
As they turned, she caught a glimpse of the bouncer who had been talking with the drummer. She thought he looked familiar, and at first she couldn’t place him, but then she thought she might have seen him in the café on Open Mic Night.
“Shit, I think I’ve been made,” she whispered into Jack’s ear. “The bouncer at the Staff door is watching us.”
They danced around so that Jac
k could see him over her shoulder. “He’s probably thinking how did that mangy cowboy get such a pretty girl to dance with him.”
“I think he was at the Café on the night we were robbed.”
Jack took another look and said, “I think it’s getting too hot in here. How about some air?”
Back at the bar, as Jack tossed enough cash on the bar to cover the beers and shrimp as well as a good tip, Libby said, “Trevor, I think we’re going to get some air. Thanks for a great evening.”
Trevor picked up the money and leaned over the bar towards Libby and said, “If the cowboy doesn’t work out, I get out of here around three, and we usually have a nightcap. And don’t forget to come by tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I just might take you up on that.”
Britney appeared at the bar next to her, “Are you leaving?” She asked with a wink.
“Yeah, but can you run some interference for me?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind?” She asked then ordered three more beers.
“There’s a bouncer over there watching us.” Before Britney could turn her head, Libby said, “Don’t look. He’s the big guy in the red T-shirt.”
“So, what do you want me to do?”
“He’s been bugging me, and I want to slip out without him seeing me.”
“You and the cowboy?” Britney picked up the beers.
Libby nodded and smiled. “So if you and the girls could sort of distract him for just a couple of minutes to allow me time to get out of here, well, I would be eternally grateful. What do you say?”
“Piece of cake,” Britney said.
Libby walked with her towards their table.
“Thanks,” Libby said before she turned to make her way to the front door at the opposite side of the bar.
At the same time, Britney turned in front of the bouncer, blocking his way and spilled beer down the front of his shirt. She began apologizing profusely, her hands on her face in mock horror. Then, she grabbed napkins from a dispenser on a table and gave a Thespian-worthy performance of attempting to wipe him dry.
Murder in Mariposa Beach Page 14