“Colt –”
“You come, it could be me buyin’ you a drink, it could be me talkin’ my woman into givin’ you a job. I’m not makin’ any promises but there’re far worse places you could be for either.”
“I –”
“Either way, it won’t take much of your time and it’ll be worth it.”
“But I –”
Colt cut her off. “In the meantime, I want you checkin’ in.”
“But –”
“Regular.”
“To you or the Feds?”
“Both.”
She hesitated again before she said, “All right.”
“See you in J&J’s.”
“Yeah.”
“Take care of that kid.”
“Always.”
“And yourself.”
“Not so good at that.”
“You’re young, you’ll learn.”She didn’t answer so Colt said, “Later.”
“Colt?”
“Yeah?”
There was another hesitation before she said, “Thanks.”
Then she disconnected.
“Who’s that?” Feb asked and Colt, who was twisted to put his phone back in his suit jacket pocket. He turned to see she was standing behind the bar right in front of him and he could tell by her face that she was preparing for whatever his answer would be, benign or malignant.
“Cheryl.”
“Cheryl who?”
“Cheryl one of the names at the bottom of the list of people Denny Lowe fucked over.”
“Oh,” Feb muttered, her eyes gliding away, her thoughts unhappy, malignant it was and it was lucky she prepared, “that Cheryl.”
“She’s safe in Ohio with her kid but her boss canned her for takin’ an unscheduled vacation.”
Feb’s eyes shot back, her unhappy thoughts gone, new unhappy thoughts in their place, she leaned forward so close she had to put her forearms on the bar and she hissed, “But she’s on the run from a murderer.”
“Don’t know any but not sure men who run strip clubs worry about that shit. Think they worry more about losin’ money.”
Feb leaned back slightly and snapped, “Oh my God, that sucks.” Her eyes were on his and the feeling behind them, mostly anger, was intense. “She’s got a kid! And she’d just been royally screwed! What a dick.” She shook her head and looked away, saying, “Poor Cheryl, she just needs this to deal with after learnin’ about Denny.”
Colt was finding it hard not to laugh but he didn’t try not to smile.
“Good you feel that way, honey, since I essentially told her, she gets back and comes in, you’ll give her a job.”
Her gaze cut back to him then her brows drew together, she still looked pissed but he figured she wasn’t pissed at some unknown strip club owner anymore.
Then she asked, “You did what?”
“Your monthly expenses are gonna change, movin’ in with me. Morrie’s overhead is gonna reduce significantly, bein’ back home, and you need the help.”
“Dee’s gonna be comin’ in.”
“And Dee’s gonna wanna work until three o’clock in the mornin’ about as much as I’m gonna want you doin’ it.”
“Cheryl’s got a kid, how’s she gonna work until three?”
“Baby, she was a stripper.”
He had her there. He knew it because she straightened, put her hands to her hips and stared at him without saying a word.
Then she found the words she wanted to say. “You gonna offer a job at J&J’s to every stray that wanders your way?”
“Only the ones been fucked over by Denny Lowe.”
He had her there too. Like it or not, Cheryl was in their club. A club they didn’t ask to join but they were stuck together in it all the same.
Feb proved he had her when she asked, “She know how to make a drink?”
“She doesn’t, reckon she can be taught, same as Dee.”
“She got her shit together?”
“Does Darryl?”
Feb’s eyes slid to Darryl then they hit the floor and she whispered, “Fuck me.”
“That’s later.”
She looked at him and her face cracked. She didn’t want to smile and she didn’t want to laugh but she was having a hard time not doing either.
When she won her struggle against her humor, she declared, “I take her on, then you’ll owe me.”
“I’ll pay.”
She shook her head before she tipped it to his beer. “Ready for another?”
“When Shanghai gets here.”
“All right, babe,” she said and turned away and again Colt watched her ass when she did.
*
It was after they shared their food while sitting in the office and shooting the shit during Feb’s break, all of which lasted less than twenty minutes.
It was after the crush hit the red zone, everyone in town buzzing and wanting to be out. Spring was there, weather was turning warmer, days were longer and dead bodies were being found. It was time, if you were alive, to be alive and get your ass to J&J’s, have a drink, see your friends and neighbors and have a good time.
It was when Colt was feeling a fatigue he hadn’t felt in a long time, with stress and broken sleep, all through riding an emotional roller coaster. He just wanted to go home and go to bed with Feb and, yes, with her damned cat draped on their feet.
It was when he thought this that he saw Feb slide through the crowd toward the jukebox. She found her song, put in a coin and pressed buttons. He’d seen her do that on occasion in the last two years. She did it more before, when she would be home visiting and wasn’t working.
It was when she turned and headed toward a table where they were calling her name, Colt decided he could stay awhile. If Feb was in the mood for some of her music then Colt wasn’t too tired to sit on a stool, drink his beer and watch her enjoy it.
It took five songs for Feb’s to come on. She was behind the bar at the other end but Colt still knew it was hers. It wasn’t what he was expecting or anyone would expect. The music came loud because the box was set loud, but it wasn’t rowdy Friday night bar music by a long shot.