Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Yes.” Helene leaned against the bar. She had delicate features and pale skin that looked luminous with her dark hair. She had to be in her mid-twenties? Maybe a bit older? “That was owned by your fiancé, correct?”
The troopers both straightened.
“Yes,” Amka said, sighing. “All right. Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll answer all of your questions at once?” Yeah, this might not look too good. “But you all need to know right now that I didn’t see the explosive device, but I heard it blow. I did smell an accelerant and watched the fire spread quickly, but I have no idea who would’ve done something like this.”
Not one of them appeared like they believed her. Just fantastic.
Chapter 17
The tequila burned down Amka’s throat, sharp and fast, and she set the empty shot glass on the counter with a dull thud.
May snorted, shaking her head. “Seriously. As your doctor, I have to advise against shooting booze.”
Amka slid her a look. “As my friend?”
“You drink, girl.” May cupped her hands around her cheerful red mug.
The liquor had burned nice. After three hours of answering the same ten questions from the suspicious troopers and insurance agent, Amka still had a headache carved into the side of her skull. Her ribs ached, deep and low, the bruises stiffening every time she moved. Now she was at the bar with her doctor, drinking tequila like it might fix something.
The tavern sat mostly empty, lit low, in a quiet night. One table in the back still had coasters on it, damp with ringed ghosts. The jukebox twinkled but held its silence. A couple stools stood crooked near the end of the bar, nobody claiming them. The air carried the mix of lemon cleaner, old wood, and bourbon—the open-bottle kind, not the high-shelf stuff.
Ace had slumped into the leather chair by the fireplace hours ago. Bottle of bourbon gone. He’d drained the whole thing and hadn’t moved since. His chin was tipped down, eyes closed, arms limp at his sides like the fight had gone clean out of him. So much for him being a bodyguard tonight.
Amka kept one eye on him. “You think he’s breathing?”
May looked over, her brow pulling. “His chest is still moving. He passed out again.”
“That was a full bottle,” Amka said, quieter this time.
“Yeah, it was.” May's forehead wrinkled and something passed through her eyes, but she turned back to her mug of coffee and drank deep.
Daisy rinsed a couple glasses at the sink, somehow tapping out a song with her foot at the same time. “It’s a pity. That’s one fine looking man, but his liver is taking a beating.”
Amka leaned toward her, one hand pressed to the edge of the bar for balance. “Do you mind watching the place for about an hour? Then close on up?”
Daisy didn’t look up. “Not at all. Where you going?”
“I have a raging headache,” Amka said, still watching Ace. But she also had a plan. Possibly a stupid one.
May straightened up, slow. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
Well, Amka couldn’t drive. Not like this. Besides, she had an idea. “I can't drive, and I'd love a ride home.” That hadn't been her first shot of the night. “You good, Daisy?”
“Absolutely,” Daisy said, jerking her head toward the fireplace. “Let’s not wake him.”
Ace hadn’t moved. His legs were sprawled out now, boot toe pointed at nothing. A low snore rattled from somewhere in his throat, just enough to prove he was alive.
Amka watched him for a beat longer. She really was starting to get an idea, and she didn’t want him knowing a thing about it.
May shook her head. “He shouldn’t have had all those drinks.”
“He likes to pass out in the bar,” Daisy grumbled. “Make sure you charge him.”
“No worries,” Amka said. “It’s definitely on his tab.”
Daisy dried her hands on a threadbare towel.
Amka reached for her coat and slid it on, her shoulders still stiff from either the fire or from ducking down after getting shot at. Who knew? She and May eased toward the door, pushing it open just wide enough to slip out without letting in the chilly air.
“I’m parked down the street.” May scanned the dark stretch of road. “Should we be looking for snipers?”
Amka spotted Trooper Jeb down the way. “No. The troopers have been patrolling all day and night. We’re safe.”
The world outside remained dead quiet since the rain had stopped. Gravel, snowmelt, the soft groan of wind sliding off the mountains lent a lonely air to the night. One streetlight flickered near the end of the road, casting a long shadow across May’s dark blue truck.
Amka bolted to it, pulling the passenger door open and jumping inside.
May followed at a jog, slipped in, and shut her door with a quiet thud. “Why do I have the feeling that I'm not just taking you home?”