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“Well, it’s a bar, and yeah, you know there are lots of weirdos in St. Roses.”
“That is true,” he laughed. “Okay, fine. When are we leaving?”
“Well, she left about an hour ago, so I think we should leave as soon as possible.”
“Okay, and you have the disguises ready? What are we wearing?”
“I figured we could wear overalls.”
“Overalls?” He shook his head. “No way, man. I know we live in Montana, but—”
“But what?”
“I ain’t no country dude.”
“Oh my God, Wyatt,” I laughed. “You’re too much.”
“I know. That’s what Sadie tells me all the time.”
I groaned at him. “Come on. Let’s go and put on the outfits I’ve got ready for us.”
“You’ve already got outfits ready for us? You just asked me if I was going to go.”
“Well, I had a feeling I could persuade you.”
“Uh-huh. Why do I think this is not going to be a good idea?”
“Trust me. It’s going to be fine.”
We pulled up outside the club about an hour later. I looked up and down the street. “This place already is giving me bad vibes,” I said to Wyatt as we got out of my truck.
“Why? We haven’t even gotten inside yet.”
“It just looks seedy.”
“I guess. So exactly how are we going to do this?”
He looked at me and I looked back at him and we both laughed. We had on big cowboy hats, fake mustaches, sunglasses, and overalls with cowboy boots. I didn’t recognize him and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t have recognized me.
“Let’s just go in and we’ll see if she’s behind the bar or if she’s waitressing or whatever. We just want to keep an eye on her. We’ll sit in the corner.”
“Okay. Whatever you say, Chet.”
“Just follow me,” I said, as I took the lead and walked inside the bar. I looked around and saw about ten different groups of men. It was pretty packed here. I couldn’t lie, a lot more packed than 12 Point Buck Bar usually was. I didn’t see Arya, though. I sighed as I looked back at Wyatt, who was fiddling with his mustache.
“Don’t touch it, dude. It’ll fall off.”
“Okay,” he said rolling his eyes. “So where should we sit?”
“Let’s go over there,” I nodded to a table at the back. We headed to the back where a couple of older women stared at us.
“Hey, there cowboy,” a woman with long red hair said to me. “You want to join us?”
She gave me a wink and I shook my head. “No, thanks.”
I hurried back and took a seat. Wyatt followed behind me.
“Well, I think one of us is going to have to go up to the bar,” Wyatt said, “because I don’t see any waitresses in here.”
