Black Hollow: Lister & Lore Book 1 by S. K. Gregory

Author:S. K. Gregory [Gregory, S. K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I need a drink and since my motel room doesn’t have a minibar, I decided to head to O’Malley’s. A few vodkas and cokes will help me sleep tonight. Hopefully, I won’t dream about random naked men in my room again.

Well, never say never.

Slipping onto a bar stool, I wave to the bartender and give him my order. The bar is quiet tonight, with only a handful of people in it. I’m glad about that. I don’t want anyone talking to me or asking me any questions about Lister.

Downing the first drink, I order another. At least I got a lot done today regarding Lister’s funeral. I appreciated Artie’s help. He is the only person in this town I even want to talk to and the only one who cares enough to check on me.

A man sidles up to me, a beer in his hand. I’m expecting a cheesy pick-up line, but instead, he says, “You’re the sister of that bitch who died, right?”

“Excuse me?” Did he just call Lister a bitch? Who the hell does he think he is?

“Yeah, you look like her. Never done sticking her nose where it wasn’t wanted. Good riddance, I say.”

“Don’t talk about her that way. Who the hell are you?” I snarl. I don’t recognize the jerk, but he certainly seemed to know my sister.

“That little bitch got my business shut down. Runs in the family, I guess. Your grandpa used to hassle my father for coming onto his land when he owned that old farmhouse on the edge of town.”

It dawns on me that I do know him. And his father. “He chased you off his land for poaching, asshole.”

The man pulls a face. “Guy’s got to live. But that’s not good enough for you lot. Calling the cops on me. You know I could be looking at five years if it goes to trial?”

What the hell did he do? Nothing legal, so no wonder Lister reported him.

“That’s not my problem.”

He slams a hand down on the bar, making the bartender look our way. “If I end up in jail, I’ll come for you. That I promise.”

“Hey!” the bartender calls. “Out!” He points toward the door.

The man glares at him, knocks back his drink, and swaggers out. The bartender comes toward me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

But I’m not. Why is he threatening me when Lister called the cops on him? Is that guy the one who killed her? Getting him arrested would certainly be a good motive. Damn, I need to tell the Sheriff about this so he can look into the guy and check for an alibi on the night Lister died.

Grabbing my phone, I call the Sheriff. It takes a few minutes to be connected, but when he answers, I blurt out what happened. The trouble is I don’t remember the man’s name, so I have to describe him instead.

“Miss Tate, please slow down,” he says.

I take a breath, still angry over the things he said to me. “You need to check this guy out.

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