Small Town Spin by Walker LynDee

Author:Walker, LynDee [Walker, LynDee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, high heels mysteries, Humor, Cozy, british mysteries, amateur sleuth, Cozy Mystery, murder mystery books, english mysteries, traditional mystery, women sleuths, chick lit, humorous mystery, female sleuths, mystery books, mystery series
Publisher: Henery Press
Published: 2014-04-03T00:00:00+00:00

A tall man in jeans and a red plaid button-down was next in line, and she leaned across the bar and asked for his order a second time when some of the guys started hooting. I looked to the stage and found a new dancer in a black bikini with silver sequins and a pair of precious open-toe silver stilettos with bows at the ankles. Maybe the dancers did have better shoes.

I turned back to find the bartender pulling a mason jar full of clear liquid from under the counter. She poured three fingers of it into a highball glass, screwed the lid back on, and stashed it back out of sight. Captain flannel tipped his white straw cowboy hat, dropped a few bills into her tip jar, and took his drink back to a table full of guys.

Hot damn. My eyes stayed fixed on the spot where the jar had been, Bobbi’s comment about buying everything she possibly could from local folks running through my head on fast forward.

“Honey, what can I get you?” The bartender’s pitch was high and irritated, like she’d asked the question more than once.

“Sorry.” I smiled. “Just a glass of iced tea, please.”

“At least you’re easy,” she smiled, filling a tall glass with ice and grabbing a pitcher.

“I know a couple guys who would disagree with that,” I said.

She put the glass on the bar and I downed half of it in one gulp. Seriously. Like liquid crack. She refilled it. “It’s all about finding the one who’s worth it,” she said. “Not easy to do when you work in a place like this.”

“This place is fairly tame when you think about what it could be,” I said.

“Bobbi runs a tight ship, no joke.” She picked up an order chit and turned to grab a couple of bottles, pouring both liquors and some sour mix into a clean shaker. “But still. When this is what you see of men all day...”

“I hear you,” I said over more hooting, thinking about the glassy look that had even come over Parker. I could imagine a girl would get jaded pretty quick. I scanned the crowd for our waitress, who was now across the fifty-yard line, but stopped at another table, and turned back to order Parker a Sam Adams.

Glasses in hand, I stepped away from the bar, the mason jar bouncing around my thoughts. I stole a look at the cowboy and his friends. They were all drinking beer, except him.

He tossed his glass back as he watched the show, setting it on the table empty.

I stared, halfway wanting him to slump over and solve the case for me, then feeling like I was going straight to hell for having such a thought. He kept laughing and talking. I watched for so long one of his buddies noticed, and the guy turned and winked at me when his friend elbowed him and whispered something in his ear. I felt my cheeks heat and smiled, scurrying back to my table to gather Parker’s jaw from the floor.

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