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“That’s really not fair,” Joy noted. “She can make all the noise she wants during the day and no one can say anything about it.”
Life wasn’t fair. Emmett knew that. He’d seen good people lose everything they had. He’d seen a sure thing fall flat and wipe out someone’s life savings. Shit happened. He certainly wasn’t going to cry himself to sleep over a childish battle with the stuck-up chick across the street.
“Any way we could plant a dead rat in the bakery and report her to the health department?”
Joy looked sweet, like Tinker Bell or something, but she was a devious little thing. He needed to remember that and not give her a reason to use her skills on him. “I like the way your brain works, Joy, but I don’t think it calls for that yet. In the meantime, I’m going to drink a cup of coffee and perk up. You better go over and see what Curt and Jesse want to drink.”
She reluctantly returned to work, leaving Emmett alone at the bar. That wouldn’t last. He glanced down at his watch. It was almost time for the crowd. Jesse and Curt tended to lead the pack. He started filling pretzel bowls and making sure the chill chest was stocked with bottled imports.
People started filing in not long after that. From there, it was a steady pace of drinks and a steady roar of voices. Before he knew it, the band was there to set up. Their first set would start at nine, so they’d have a solid hour of playing before the cops shut them down. Considering Madelyn was already in bed, possibly asleep, the sooner they could start playing, the better.
The band was definitely a draw. By the time they started to play, the bar was wall-to-wall people. Every seat was taken and a crowd had filled the dance floor to stand in front of the stage. Joy could hardly keep up with orders, and with so many people, they had to cash out all the tabs and just have people pay as they drank. Emmett was filling glasses as soon as he pulled them out of the dishwasher. It was an amazing turnout and he was thrilled.
Until he saw Officer Chamberlain come in the door. The Chamberlain brothers were no strangers to Woody’s. Despite Madelyn’s protests about alcohol, her three brothers frequented the place fairly often. But Simon rarely arrived in uniform. It was just Emmett’s luck that his nemesis would have a police officer in the family. That gave her an unfair advantage. He didn’t have any family in Rosewood, and had only a few friends—if you could call them that. There wasn’t really anyone who would bail him out of jail, much less help him get someone else arrested.
Emmett glanced at his watch again and noticed it was only nine forty-five. His gaze followed Simon as he weaved through the crowd of people to get to the bar. He squeezed in between a couple of guys and waved to get Emmett’s attention.
“Evening, Officer Chamberlain,” Emmett said. “You’re early.”
Simon snorted and shook his head. From what Emmett understood, Simon was one of the youngest of the family. There was another sister who had just gone off to college at the University of Alabama, but she was obviously too young to be in Woody’s. Even at his young age, Simon looked tired. As many times as he or Sheriff Todd had been by the bar in the last few weeks, he understood how they felt. Simon worked the night shift lately, so despite Woody’s being on the wrong side of the law, Emmett and Simon were kindred spirits of a sort.
“Well, I was driving around and I noticed what time it was. I figured since it was so busy tonight, I should go ahead and come this way, get a parking space, and settle in for the call from dispatch.”
“Can I get you a soda or something?”
Simon nodded. “Something with caffeine would be great.”
Emmett poured him a Coke and handed it over. The noise level in the bar went down a touch as the band opted to take a short break. He wanted to talk to Simon, but the end of the set meant that everyone would be scrambling for refills. “I’m about to get slammed. I’ll be back.”
Emmett watched Joy make a beeline
to join him behind the bar and they teamed up to pour and ring up orders. The rush faded after about ten minutes, letting him return to Simon for some quiet conversation without the band’s screeching amplifiers in the background.
“Need a refill?” he asked.
“Nah, I’m fine, thanks,” Simon said as he turned to look around the bar. “You’ve got a full house tonight.”
“Everyone’s really excited about the band. I’ve got it turned down as low as it makes sense, but the crowd’s got to be able to hear it over the sound of everyone in here.”
Simon nodded wearily. “I know. Believe me, I know. And Sheriff Todd knows, too. We’ve never gotten a single complaint about Woody’s until Maddie started in. I get that she goes to bed super early, but she should’ve known what she was getting herself into.”
“Are you guys going to do something to help me out or are you just going to fine me until you have enough money to buy a couple of new police cruisers?”
“I don’t know what to do. We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Technically, I need to keep fining you, but it seems stupid. Maddie just has a bee in her bonnet about this place and she’s not going to let it go.”
The crowd applauded as the band returned to the stage and prepared to start their second set. Hopefully a set that would last longer than . . . Emmett looked down at his watch again . . . seven minutes. “So, you can go ahead and write me another citation,” he said. “But I’m not telling the band to give up early. They drove all the way here and a lot of people came out to see them. If you’ll let me go until eleven, I’ll keep karaoke night down tomorrow.”
“I understand. Eleven sounds pretty reasonable for a Friday night. I’m just going to stay around here unless I get an emergency call. I figure Maddie will call the station a second time if the music doesn’t stop, so there’s no sense in me leaving. They’re really good, actually.”
Emmett watched Simon turn and listen with interest to the band. Even though he was a police officer, it was easy to forget that he wasn’t even twenty-three yet. He’d probably much rather be listening to the band and trying to get laid like every other kid his age instead of playing the role of spoilsport because of his sister.
He refilled Simon’s soda and poured a couple of beers for customers. The band was about halfway through the second song when the radio on Simon’s shoulder chirped.
“We’ve got another sound complaint at Woody’s Bar. Car twenty-eight, can you respond? She’s your sister.”
Emmett smirked as Simon rolled his eyes. “Copy that. This is car twenty-eight. I’m at the bar and will address the issue.”
He expected Simon to stand up or do something official, but instead, he smiled, took a sip of his soda, and turned back to watch the band.
