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“Miller Buchanan, you are not dragging me away from my girls’ night for sex,” Calliope protested as she polished off her drink and grabbed her wallet.

“Why the hell not?” Very exclaimed. “Last time I got dragged out of a bar by a hot guy, it was a cop.”

Twitch clarified, “She punched a guy’s lights out for grabbing her boob. Started a whole brawl.”

“I hooked up with that cop.” Very grabbed a chicken wing from the platter and pointed with it. “Didn’t get a speeding ticket for the rest of college.”

“And she drives like she’s on the circuit,” Twitch added.

Very stood. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyone need anything from the bar?”

Emily and Sofria both held up their empty wine glasses. Tox leaned over and whispered in Calliope’s ear.

“Yeah, um, we’re going to go. I’ve got an early morning, and Tox needs to—”

Emily stopped her with the flat of her hand. “Please just go. We’ve passed awkward; I’d like to get rid of you two before we reach perverted.”

“Copy that.” Tox grabbed Calliope’s hand and hauled her away.

“G’night, everyone.” Calliope tossed down some money, blew a kiss to the table, and followed Tox’s broad form as he parted the crowd.

Very passed them and nodded goodbye while juggling two glasses of wine and her usual tequila sunrise. Twitch smiled. Everything about Very Valentine was colorful.

Twitch’s gaze followed Tox and Calliope. They were out on the sidewalk now, but she could spot them easily through the glass storefront of the bar. It was a mild night, but Tox was helping his wife into her coat, making sure she was cozy. Then he kissed her forehead, turned her into the circle of his arm, and helped her into the car. Twitch couldn’t contain the sigh that escaped.

“What’s with the sad clown?” Very asked Twitch.

“Not sad. Dreamy. I’d like to have that. One day.”

“Maybe sooner than you think. There’s a guy at the bar checking you out.” Very swung the bright orange drink in her hand, but when Twitch followed the motion, the seat she indicated was empty.

“Which one?” Emily asked.

“Huh, he’s gone,” Very said.

“Was he cute?” Sofria asked.

“Meh, he wasn’t flooding my basement. Maybe forty. Glasses, polo buttoned at the neck.” Very stuck out her tongue. “But Twitch loves the geeks.”

“Aw, did she miss her chance with the dirty old man at the bar?” Emily pretended to snap her fingers. ”Surely we can do better than that.”

Very took a sip of her drink. “Well, her starting point is a scar-faced cheater with anger management issues. The bar is fucking low.”

“He who shall not be named.” Sofria tipped her drink to Very’s.

“Don’t. I know you guys don’t have the best opinion of Finn, but you didn’t know him before. You don’t know how he used to be.”

“Because you won’t tell us!” Emily chided.

Very agreed. “Talking about it helps. We need all the facts so we can determine how big of a jackass he is on the Ryan Gosling to Ike Turner scale.”

“What’s wrong with Ryan Gosling?” Sofria asked.

“Oh, here we go.” Twitch slid a slice of flatbread onto her plate.

“Don’t get me started with Ryan fucking Gosling.” Very took a healthy swig of her drink. “Nobody is that perfect. He kicks puppies or is a flat-earther or photoshops his abs. Trust me. There’s something.”

Emily stared at Very in amused disbelief. “I think we’ve lost the thread. Twitch? Will you tell us the whole story about Finn?”

“All right, all right, but we need Calliope. Do you want to come over for dinner one night? I’ll make chili.”

“I don’t even need the Finn story if you’re making Red Barn chili.” Very ate the orange slice out of her drink. Red Barn chili was Twitch’s secret recipe from her maternal grandfather, a Texas rancher.

“I’ll grab corn muffins from that bakery on Newcastle,” Emily added.

“I have to be back at Langley tomorrow. Promise to tell me the story, though,” Sofria said.

“I promise,” Twitch said, her eyes once again wandering to the front of the restaurant. On the street, a man who must have been the person Very had described from the bar stood on the sidewalk staring into the building—staring right at her. When Twitch’s gaze met his, the man turned and walked away.

Her rational mind dismissed the encounter, yet she couldn’t stop herself from placing a protective hand over her belly.


Tags: Debbie Baldwin Bishop Security Mystery