“And then he asked you out?”
“Yeah, it’s real casual. Just some appetizers and drinks at the Shady Lady.”
She screwed up her face. “That’s not a great first-date location.”
I shrugged and slipped my ID, a couple twenties, and a credit card in my jeans pocket. “Like I said, it’s pretty informal. But listen, I’m sorry. I totally spaced our movie night. Can we do it tomorrow?”
Guilt washed over me. Not only did I hate lying to Vera, but it made me feel awful to break our movie-watching plans. We’d talked about watching a documentary on cults, which was one of our favorite genres.
This effort was all for her, though. Eventually, I’d tell her everything, once her name was cleared.
She waved her hand in the air and smiled. “No worries. You go have fun. I’m just glad you’re not sitting around and wishing you were still with whatshisname in Boston.”
“Lawrence? Who hated my love of genre fiction?”
She rolled her eyes. “Literary Fiction Larry. God, his writing was insufferable. Dry. And he couldn’t write a sex scene to save his life.”
I was going to retort with a snarky comment, but I refrained. “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous. Way better now that you have some Florida color in your cheeks. You no longer look Goth like you did when you came home six weeks ago.” She climbed to her feet. “But don’t get into any fistfights at the Shady Lady. Who knows, you might have to fight off other women with a stick, once they get a look at Jack and his biceps.”
We both giggled. “Come on. He’s not that good-looking.”
She snorted. “Yeah, he is.”
“Then why didn’t you snag him?” I asked.
She pursed her lips into a pout. “Maybe I’ve got something else in the works.”
I thought back to the cheesy note in the flowers from Tyler. “OK, Miss Secretive. You tell me about your love life when you’re ready.”
We walked out, and I noticed she ignored my statement.
“Call me if you drink too much,” she said, leaning to kiss my cheek. “I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m really sorry about ditching you tonight.”
She yawned. “Don’t apologize. I’m going to bed early.”
I walked out the back door and to Jack’s cabin. I knocked twice and he opened the door. He was in a similar outfit as earlier, except he’d changed into a different black T-shirt. This one had a band name on the front. His hair was slightly damp and a fresh, soapy smell surrounded him.
“I’ll drive,” he said.
We climbed in his car, a Prius. I gave him instructions on how to get to the Shady Lady.
“It’s at the end of Main Street. Across from the Catholic church.” I pointed. “It’s the oldest bar in Wahoo, by the way.”
“A slice of history.”
“It’s what passes for history here,” I said. “Well, that and the original Kentucky Fried Chicken building. It was the first KFC in Florida.”
We found a parking space in back and walked slowly to the front door.
“What’s the plan?” he said.
I shrugged. “I figured we’d have a beer and try to talk up anyone who looks like a regular. And the bartender, especially if it’s a woman.”
“We doing the good cop, bad cop thing again?”
