“Just a beer. You’ve got some of that Red Arrow, right? And a vodka soda.”
Jeff starts pouring a pint of the local beer. “Sounds good. So, you’re finished now. Learn anything useful at school?”
“Sure did. I’m not sharing with you, though. Trade secrets and all, you know.”
He laughs as he mixes Aura’s drink. “Probably wouldn’t help me run this place, anyway. You were learning about dirt and animals and what not, right?”
I shake my head. “Sure, whatever you think.” Nobody seems to really understand the value of my agriculture degree.
He slides the drinks over with a couple of cocktail napkins. I pass him the money with a thank you.
“No problem, you have a great night Quint, and…”
He looks at Aura again, but I ignore the question, leading her back through the crowd to a free high-top on the opposite side of the stage. It’s partially hidden by shadows, and I have a feeling she’s feeling a bit too exposed right now.
Aura toys with the straw, stirring her drink with slow circles.
“I think we should go.”
“But we just got our drinks.” She stares at my throat as I tilt my head up to take a long sip of my beer. The bitter hops hit my tongue in a refreshing burst.
She shakes herself out of the trance, taking a small sip of her drink through the tiny black straw.
“Yeah, but everyone here knows you, and they’re all getting curious about me. It’s only a matter of time before someone recognizes me and blows my cover. I can’t afford that.”
Never thought I’d be pissed to be so popular. Nerdy ten-year-old Quint would be slapping me silly. “Okay. Want to at least finish our drinks first?”
She shakes her head, glancing over my shoulder. “No, I just want to get out of here. Sorry.”
The noise level in the bar eases as the singer finishes her song and announces she’s taking a break. Seems as good a time as any to split.
Chris is still maintaining order like she has been for the last thirty years since she took over the bar. Although from what Jeff was saying, it sounds like she might be starting to pass the torch to her son. It’s nice to see that. Too many family businesses are getting sold off or shut down these days.
Back in the truck, I point us in the direction of the Lone Pine. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to move in at the ranch?” The closer we get to that dingy hotel, the more I’m worried about her spending another night there.
I can see her fiddling with her silver ring out of the corner of my eye, and I wonder what it means to her. “I need a little more time to think about it.” It’s progress. She doesn’t sound as set on a ‘no’ as before.
“Like I said. Just let me know.”
The urge to ask again rises when we pull into the pothole-ridden parking lot and there’s a police car parked out front. My grip tightens on the gear shift as an uneasy feeling settles over me.
“Bye, see you tomorrow.” She hops out before I can walk around to open the door for her.
“Wait up. I’ll walk you to your room.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
“I insist.”
The sliding glass doors stall and start closing when we’re halfway through them, and Aura cries out.
“Did that hit you?” I look around the lobby for someone to complain to, but there’s no one there. The shabby front desk is sitting there empty like a bad omen in a horror movie. The one that tells you to turn back before you do something incurably stupid.
“It was just a bump. I was more startled than anything else.”
The elevator makes an alarming clanking sound as it descends, and I hesitate stepping through the door. It jerks to life to take us to the third floor, and I know there’s something wrong before the doors glide open. We can hear the shouts even through the thick metal.
Aura turns to the left, then freezes. Two officers are standing there. One is restraining a middle-aged man whose face is so red I think he might pop the vein pulsing in his forehead. He’s cuffed but still struggling. The other one is trying to deal with an equally red-in-the-face woman.
