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Chapter15
Jax
It’s almost midnight by the time I get to Rocky’s bar on Menville. I called the unknown number on my father’s phone again a few times on the way here, but as I’d known it would be, it’s still out of service.
The place is almost empty when I walk inside. A few guys sit at the bar and a couple sit in the corner kissing, while another group of kids barely out of college shoot pool. There is only one guy serving, and I assume it’s Rocky junior. This was his old man’s place, but he died a few years back from lung cancer.
He tips his chin at me when I take a seat on one of the worn leather stools. “Can I get ya?”
“You know Harvey Decker?”
“Nope,” he says with a shake of his head.
I suppose he might not. I mean, back in the day when the place was owned by his old man, my father was one of their best customers, but since he got sober ten years ago, he doesn’t frequent such establishments any longer.
Still, I find it hard to believe that anyone in this town hasn’t at least heard of my father. It’s a small place where far too many people know each other’s business.
“The guy who got busted up outside your bar earlier?” I jog his memory.
“Oh, that guy?” he nods his head. “Never seen him before tonight.”
“And you saw him in here tonight?”
Rocky junior smirks at me and my hand immediately balls into a fist. I am in exactly the right mood for beating the shit out of someone, and he might just be the lucky recipient. “Maybe. What do you wanna know for? You a cop?”
“Do I look like a cop?”
“Naw,” he shakes his head.
“So, did you see him or not, dipshit?” I snarl.
He narrows his eyes at me, sizing me up and wondering if I’m worth making an enemy of. Even if he doesn’t know my name, I have half a foot and fifty pounds of muscle on the guy. “Yeah. He sat right there. Ordered a club soda. Drank it and then he left.”
“Did he talk to anyone?”
“Not that I saw, but I wasn’t eyeballing the guy all night. I got customers to deal with,” he says with a shrug.
“Anyone follow him when he left?”
He smirks and shrugs again and the lid blows off my temper. Reaching across the bar, I grab him by the throat. “I asked you a fucking question, fuck-face. Did anybody leave behind him?”
He shakes his head as much as he can now that I have him by the throat. “No,” he croaks.
Glancing around, I see we’ve drawn the attention of everyone in the bar and I let him go.
“Heard some folks say it was son responsible though,” he adds, rubbing at the red skin of his neck.
“What?” I frown at him.
“Hates him by all accounts,” he says.
I’m seconds away from smashing his face into the solid wooden bar when that jackass Sheriff Hicks sits on a stool beside me.
“Trouble here, Rock?” he asks, giving me a side-eye.
I glare at Rocky, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“This guy was just asking about the incident here tonight,” Rocky says.
