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“But?”
Jim grimaces and glances at Terry who takes over. “She was a horrible drunk.”
“Aggressive?”
“Sometimes. But usually justsloppy, you know? She’d hit on a guy who wasn’t interested and when he rejected her, she’d cause a scene. It kinda got to the point where we’d see her coming in and prepare for drama.”
“Were there any altercations with her that you remember?”
“Nothing that could have gotten her killed,” Jim says. “Our bouncer, Tyrone, always escorted her out before it got to that point.”
“Tell us about the night of the tenth.” Sade drags out a barstool and sits, deliberately making herself seem smaller, less threatening. I keep standing.
“Like I told you before, Elizabeth came in early. Earlier than usual. Maybe around six, six-thirty?” Jim looks at Terry.
“Yeah, about.”
“She started drinking right away. Didn’t stop until she left with the guy she picked up, just after midnight.”
“Midnight?”
“It had to have been. I was just getting back from my break when they asked to close out.”
“Was she meeting the guy here?” I ask. “Did she know him?”
“I don’t know. I was serving, and when I came back around to this end, he was sitting down already. I didn’t see them greet each other.”
“But they hit it off quickly?” I clarify.
“Oh, yeah. He bought her drinks the entire night, even bought a few rounds for the bar. Paid in cash.”
“And then they left together?”
“Yes. I mean, I think so. Last I saw them they were heading for the door.”
“Anything else that way?”
“The restrooms branch off down the hallway there,” Jim replies.
“Did Elizabeth seem as if she was leaving willingly?” Sade asks, her voice quiet.
Terry and Jim exchange a quick glance.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Willingly,yes.” Jim crosses his arms over his chest, unconsciously defensive. “But she was probably too drunk to have argued if she hadn’t wanted to go. He was practically carrying her out.”
Taking the photograph of Lizzie and the bald man off the counter, I show it to both of them. “Do you know this man?”
“Is that…” Jim leans closer.
“Gerry Munson—Gerard,” Terry supplies.
“Yeah,” Jim affirms. “He owns Pagan Hospitality. The tiki bar over in Santa Monica.”
“Is this the man Elizabeth was with that night?”
“No,” Jim and Terry reply at the same time.
