No Crone Unturned

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Oh, I realize it.”

  He pretended he hadn’t heard me. “Two Coronas please.”

  Hank nodded, his eyes trained on me. “Sure.” He retrieved the beers, taking the time to open them and pop limes in the tops before sliding them in our direction. His expression was hard to read, but I had no doubt he was fixated on me rather than Gunner. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Scout Randall.” Gunner squeezed the lime and then dropped it into the beer. “She’s been working with me.”

  “With Rooster’s group?”

  Gunner nodded. “Yeah. She’s the newest member of our team.”

  My curiosity was raging at this point. I wanted to know exactly what Hank — he of the hairy shoulders and tank top that didn’t completely cover his beer gut — knew about our group. I knew that particular conversation could go somewhere dangerous though, so I managed to keep my mouth shut. It was a chore.

  “People have seen the two of you around town together,” Hank said after a beat. “People say you’re involved.”

  “Last time I checked, people in this town say a lot of things,” Gunner noted, his eyes drifting to me. For a second, I thought he was going to disavow our relationship and the notion left me bereft. “She’s not so bad when you get to know her, but that mouth of hers runs wild. Still ... we’re definitely involved.”

  Hank looked amused. “I like a mouthy woman ... under the right circumstances.” His gaze was appraising when it landed on me. “Tell me about yourself, Scout.”

  I sipped my beer because it seemed to be the thing to do. I could feel multiple sets of eyes on me and knew I was the odd woman out. These people weren’t going to talk to a stranger. They needed to think of me as one of them if they were going to open up. I probably should’ve listened to Gunner and let him do the talking as he’d requested. Unfortunately, that was out of my wheelhouse. I’d never met a tense situation I didn’t want to make worse.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked, tapping my fingernails on the bar and frowning when I realized how sticky the surface was. I considered asking for a rag but figured that would come off as needlessly aggressive.

  “Gunner said you were from down south. Where at?”

  “I’ve lived in several places throughout the state,” I replied. “Most of my time was spent in Detroit or the suburbs.”

  “And what did you do in Detroit?”

  That was a thorny question. “Pretty much the same thing I do here, though Gunner is a recent addition.” I winked at him. “I didn’t have one of him in Detroit.”

  “And she cried herself to sleep every night because it,” Gunner teased.

  “Yes, the pain was real.”

  Hank glanced between us for a few seconds and then shook his head. “You two are basically fornicating with words in the middle of my bar. I would say I don’t like it, but in truth, I’m kind of turned on. Please continue.”

  His words had a dampening effect — which I’m sure he intended — and I frowned as I turned back to my beer.

  Gunner chuckled at my reaction, casting a surreptitious look down the bar before turning back to Hank. “So ... I need to know about Honey Martelle.”

  Hank’s expression never changed. “What about her?”

  “My understanding is that she hangs out here pretty regularly.”

  “So what if she does?” Hank looked as if he was ready to start snarling. “Since when is that a crime?”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “No, but your daddy is the chief of police and we all know you tattle to him,” a stacked brunette supplied from the end of the bar. She was tall, willowy even, and her hair had more height than I’d seen anywhere outside of a movie set in the 1980s. She wore jeans so tight I wondered how she managed to breathe, and because she was sitting they dipped low in the back, displaying a lacy thong. She wore one of those leather vests that I’d never seen outside of a catalog. It pushed her cleavage up to death-defying heights.

  “Thank you, Rhonda,” Gunner drawled. “I love it when you volunteer your opinion on important topics.”

  I had no idea who Rhonda was, but the look she shot Gunner promised mayhem.

  “You didn’t used to date her, too, did you?” I whispered. I was quiet enough that only Hank appeared to hear, and he looked amused.

  “No, I didn’t date her,” Gunner shot back. “She’s not my type. I already told you I like blondes.”

  “Honey is blonde,” the man sitting on Rhonda’s left noted. “Is that why you’re asking about her? Are you going to trade up?” His brown eyes were keen as they surveyed me from top to bottom. “This one is mouthy, but she’s kind of hot.”

  Next to me, Gunner tensed. I could tell he didn’t like the way this guy was watching me. “Honey is dead.”

  I was surprised at the way he simply blurted it out.

  “What?” Hank looked legitimately gobsmacked.

  “She’s dead,” Gunner repeated. “She was found behind the library today. Her throat was ... injured. There are questions about how it happened. My father has to wait for the autopsy report to make a determination.”

  That was a bit of an exaggeration, but I didn’t comment. This was now officially his show. I’d had my fun. It was time to let him do the heavy lifting.

  “I don’t understand.” There wasn’t a hint of a smile on Hank’s face now. “She was just in here last night.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re here. My understanding is that she was in here quite often.”

  “I don’t know that I would say that,” Hank countered. “She was fairly regular. She came in once or twice a week.”

  “And recently she was with Brandon, right?”

  Hank looked uncomfortable with the question. “Can’t you ask him that?”

  “I’ve already talked to him, and I will again later when he’s had a chance to absorb the news. He was in shock when I was with him a little bit ago.” He hesitated before continuing. “I didn’t even know he was dating Honey.”

  “I bet that stuck in your craw, huh?” Rhonda chortled. “You dated her, right? Were you upset when you found out?”

  Gunner pinned her with a dark look. “I was upset for my friend because he was clearly rocked by the news. As for Honey ... I can’t even remember the last time I saw her. We dated when I was in my early twenties. That was a lifetime ago.”

  “And you’ve since moved on,” Hank noted, his eyes back on me. He looked as if he wanted to ask me a question, but he remained on point instead. “Do you think Honey was murdered?”

  Gunner raised his shoulders a fraction of an inch. “It’s hard to know. My guess is she was killed, but my father says it could be an accident. The way her throat was mangled ... well ... they’re saying it could have been an animal attack.”

  The guy next to Rhonda snorted. “An animal attack in the middle of town? What are the odds of that?”

  “I don’t know, Zed,” Gunner replied. “I have trouble believing the story myself, but if you’d seen her throat ... . I don’t know of any weapon that could do what was done to her.”

  “I have seen a few bears around,” an old-timer with white hair hanging well past his shoulders volunteered from the far end of the bar. He’d been so still I wasn’t even sure he was awake until he spoke. “There’s one that’s always hanging out by the ritual grounds on the north side of town.”

  “You mean Barney?” Gunner immediately started shaking his head. “Barney answers to Mama Moon. He’s not responsible for this.”

  “How can you be sure?” Hank challenged. “I’ve seen that bear. While she seems to be able to order him around, he’s still a wild animal. The tighter you try to hold on to a wild animal, the more likely you are to lose control and have to stand back and watch it go on a rampage.”

  I was familiar with Mama Moon, but I’d yet to see the famous bear. There was no way she would sit back and idly watch as an innocent woman’s throat was torn out. That’s not how she was built. Besi
des that, it was vampires. Even though Gunner felt the need to push and prod as he looked for answers, I already knew what sort of creature we were looking for. He simply refused to accept it.

  “I understand that, but it wasn’t Barney.” Gunner was firm. “I’m not even sure it was an animal.”

  “You think she was murdered,” Hank mused, rubbing his chin. He looked thoughtful. “That’s why you’re here. You want to know if she made any enemies recently. I know how this goes. You’re looking at us.”

  “No.” Gunner shook his head. “I need to know how she was acting. I didn’t even know she was dating Brandon. The whole thing has me ... confused. No offense to you guys, but this isn’t his normal stomping grounds. I’m assuming he was hanging out here because of Honey, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

  “They were an odd couple from the start,” Zed volunteered. “In fact, when someone mentioned they were dating I thought they were having me on. I mean ... Brandon is an okay guy. I’ve dealt with him at the lumberyard numerous times and he’s always been fair and reasonable. He’s not judgmental either. You know how some people look at us like we’re beneath them because we’re not rich? Well, he never looked at us that way. I’ve always liked him.”

  “And yet you didn’t think his relationship with Honey was a good thing,” I surmised, speaking out loud even though I had initially planned to keep my mouth shut.

  “I thought his relationship with Honey was ... odd,” he corrected, pinning me with a pointed look. “I always liked her. I mean ... she wasn’t perfect. Nobody is.” The way he said it made me think he was trying to take me down a peg or two. It was completely unnecessary. While I definitely had attitude about the bar, there was no way I thought of myself as perfect. In fact, it was the exact opposite. “It’s just ... she was different from him.”

  “Some say opposites attract,” Gunner noted, sliding his eyes to me and grinning. “I mean, take Scout and me for example. I’m an intelligent, handsome, witty, and charming individual. She’s the opposite, and yet things are working for us.”

  Rhonda snorted. “Oh, burn!” She snapped her fingers and practically did a little dance of glee.

  “Right.” I bobbed my head without missing a beat. “And on the flip side, I’m a sexual dynamo, I can go all night, and I’m a wonder with sarcasm. Gunner isn’t, but it all evens out in the end.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’ll pay for that one later.”

  I wasn’t worried in the least. “How were Brandon and Honey different?”

  “Well, she was a partier,” Zed replied. “She was also kind of ... um ... free with the love.”

  I drew my eyebrows together. “Is that code for something?”

  “Yeah,” Rhonda replied. “She was a slut. She liked to sleep around. There’s nothing wrong with that if you own it, but she tended to lie about it. And she was a thief. You couldn’t leave your purse at a table when going to the bathroom because she’d steal from you.”

  Gunner turned his eyes to Hank for confirmation and the bartender simply nodded.

  “That’s not all,” Zed added. “She also liked her pharmaceuticals. She wasn’t shooting up or anything, but she liked her oxy more than most people. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but Brandon never showed signs of being okay with any of that.”

  “Definitely not,” Gunner agreed. He looked troubled. “I don’t understand how they were even together. Did he know these things about her?”

  Rhonda shrugged. “It was one of those ... um ... what do you call it?” She looked to Zed for the right words.

  “It was an open secret,” Zed offered. “Everyone knew she couldn’t be trusted. Everyone talked about it. She was okay to party with, but she was a mess.”

  “Do you know anyone who would’ve wanted her dead?” Gunner asked.

  “Not really.” Zed shook his head. “Like I said, people knew what to look out for when she was around, so she wasn’t really an issue. Ten bucks here or there is hardly worth killing over anyway. I mean ... maybe she got in bad with whatever oxy dealer she was hanging with, but she didn’t act worried.”

  “Yeah.” Gunner sipped from his beer and flicked his eyes to me. “None of this makes sense.”

  Eight

  “I don’t understand any of this.”

  Gunner looked frustrated as we regrouped in the parking lot so I decided to give him a pass on the macho “boys rule and girls drool” crap he ran on me before we’d entered the establishment.

  “Maybe you should talk to him,” I suggested. “I mean ... if you can’t understand, my guess is he’s the only one who can make you understand.”

  “I can’t do that.” He looked scandalized. “I don’t know if you realize this, but men don’t talk about feelings. That’s a chick thing.”

  And I was back to being agitated. “You talk about your feelings with me.”

  “No, I talk about my feelings regarding you ... and only in private. It’s not as if I go to the bar with Brandon and tell him about the cute way you snore ... or how you curl your toes when you’re stretching in the morning and how it makes me giddy. He would think I was nuts.”

  I stared at him, open-mouthed.

  “What?” he said after a beat.

  “I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I said finally. “It makes me want to punch you that you’re such a dude about things. There’s nothing wrong with talking about feelings. On the other hand, it kind of makes me want to drag you into those bushes and strip you naked for some fun it was so sweet.”

  He shot me a wolfish smile. “I vote for door number two.”

  “That’s because the alpha male stuff is ingrained in you.” I dragged a hand through my hair and sighed. “Here’s the thing: Everyone has feelings. That goes for men and women. You have no problem talking to me about your feelings and you’ve known me two months. Brandon is your best friend and you’re upset because he didn’t tell you about his feelings. Maybe he feels the same way about you.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “When was the last time you sat down and talked with someone about your feelings?”

  Well, that was a low blow. “Um ... I talk about my feelings all the time.”

  “With who? And, before you answer, it doesn’t count if you say me. If I can’t use you for the same argument, then you can’t use me.”

  Sadly, that seemed fair. “Well ... I talk to Bonnie sometimes.”

  He snorted. “You do not. At least not about anything serious.”

  “I do.”

  “Name one serious thing you’ve ever talked to her about.”

  I hated being put on the spot. “I told her I had feelings for you when she asked.”

  “Really? Be more specific.”

  “No, we’re not playing that game.” I wagged a finger. “The point is, I talk about my feelings.”

  “With who else besides Bonnie?”

  “Um ... there’s Merlin.”

  He made a face. “The cat doesn’t count.”

  “Oh, and my Peeping Tim,” I offered, referring to the perverted ghost that hangs around my cottage trying to get a gander at me naked. “I tell him all the time that I feel he shouldn’t be trying to stare at me when I’m changing clothes.”

  The comment had the desired effect and Gunner barked out a laugh. “Is it any wonder I can’t get enough of you?” He pulled me close and surprised me with a heartfelt hug rather than a playful kiss. He held tight for a moment, anchoring himself. “I feel as if I’ve somehow done Brandon wrong and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  It was hard for him to admit. I recognized that, but I couldn’t coddle him. He needed a dose of tough love. When I pulled back, I put a stern look on my face.

  “Guilt is a useless emotion,” I offered. “You can’t benefit from those feelings. You have to try to salvage the good from the bad ... and guilt won’t help you do that.”

  “I don’t know what to say to him. I basically abandoned him the
past few weeks.”

  “I don’t think he’s angry. He said so himself. At the start of a new relationship you tend to lose your head. You can’t get enough of the other person. It’s intoxicating. It’s like pheromones are driving you and there’s no way to control your impulses.”

  “You’re so romantic,” he teased, grinning as he poked my side. “You have hearts in your eyes when you look at me, don’t you?”

  “I’m just saying that it’s normal to lose yourself in the beginning of a relationship. Or so I’ve been told. I’ve never wanted to lose myself with anybody but you.”

  Now he genuinely looked touched. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. The important thing is to get over the guilt and be there for your friend. He needs you.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Nothing right now.”

  “But ... what are you going to do without me tonight?”

  “Are you asking if I’m going to curl into a ball and cry because you’re not with me?”

  He shrugged, his lips curving. “Would you think less of me if I said yes?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Then you shouldn’t cry.”

  “I plan to take a long bath, shave my legs, watch some television ... and maybe conduct some research on that little fink at the house on the hill. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve met him before.”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you.”

  “You said I was imagining things and getting him confused with some other short dude.”

  “That’s not imagining things. That’s getting things twisted around. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Ugh. I was at my limit. It was probably a good thing that we weren’t spending the evening together. “Don’t worry about me. I have my cat to talk to and a randy ghost should I get really desperate. Focus on Brandon. He needs you.”