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“You’re working as a cop again?”
“Temporarily.” Despite himself, he took a sip of beer.
“So, I’m guessing this isn’t just a social visit?”
He smiled. “Maybe I just missed your face.”
“This face? No.” She eyed him curiously. “Mostly I don’t like to lose regulars. But some…it’s for the best.”
“Well, in that case, I guess this is business. Were you here the night before last?”
She stubbed out the cigarette. “I’m here every night. Can only afford a couple of staff on the weekends.”
“So, you were here on Friday the 10th too?”
“Yup.”
Tucker held a twenty out. “If you can answer a few questions, I got some more dollars.”
She plucked the twenty from Tucker’s fingers. “What d’you want to know?”
“I need to know if a man was in here two nights ago. Around forty. Dark hair, disheveled.”
“Well, that’s about fifty percent of our clientele.”
Tucker wished he’d got a photo of Nathan. “His name is Nathan, and he has tattoos—a black patch on each of his knuckles.”
Margot’s grin faded. “Oh yeah, I know him.”
“You sound like you’d rather you didn’t.”
“Well, I know he was in here a couple of nights ago because he gave me twenty dollars to tell anyone who asked he was definitely in here on Friday, November the 10th.”
“Was he?”
“Nope.”
Tucker chuckled. “Okay. So, you don’t like him. Why?”
“He got overfamiliar with my staff a few times. Asked one of them if he wanted to go to his truck with him. Even offered him cash.”
Interesting. “The staff member take it?”
“He’s a nice boy. He politely declined.”
“That the last of it?”
“I had some words. Nathan backed off. Then he found himself a new friend. They’d sit and have a drink then disappear outside for a while. To his truck, I guess—and I don’t think they were checking the oil.”
“This a regular hook-up?”
“Regularish. Maybe once a week over the last few months.”
“What did he look like, this hook-up?”
“Young, long blond hair, pretty.”
Tucker felt unease stir in his stomach. “You got a name?”
