smiled sheepishly. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a gentleman’s dispute.”
“Yeah,” said Kyle, “we’re okay.”
“Just shootin’ pool,” said one of the players.
Tracy digested that a moment, carefully studying all the looks of innocence. Finally, she smiled. “Then one of you liars get me a Coke.”
Laughter broke the tension. Tracy sat on a bar stool, and every man returned to his place. Levi sat down to finish his lunch, but Steve remained where he was, still in defense mode. A glare from Doug served as a reminder that the trouble, though contained for now, still remained.
Charlie brought Tracy a can of Diet Coke. She popped it open, then turned. She looked at Steve with a smile that bordered on amusement. “Why don’t you have a beer, Professor Benson?”
Professor Benson? Oh. She was one of them now, and he was the outsider. “I already have one,” Steve said and took his seat again, with all eyes upon him. He could see Clark County Sheriff’s Deputy Tracy Ellis was enjoying this. This was her turf, her big, wide comfort zone where she knew the ropes and had the authority and Steve didn’t. Well, go ahead, little lady, and play your game. I don’t need to. Steve took a swallow of beer because he wanted to, not because she had suggested it.
“So, Charlie, how’s the fishing?” Tracy asked, and Charlie began to report on conditions up and down the Hyde River. One of the pool players gave his input on which flies were working and where, and Paul at the end of the bar boasted about a twenty-five-inch cutthroat he’d landed just above the mill, wherever that was. Things were lightening up, and Steve could guess that was exactly Tracy’s intention. She was fitting right in, deftly handling the local subject matter and even the level of the language. She and these hunks must have all gone to school together.
Doug was the only one who wouldn’t join in. He downed the last suds from his beer, slammed the bottle down, got to his feet, and strode over to the cash register to settle up with Charlie. Then he left without a word or a look back. Tracy kept talking to the others, but Steve noticed that her smile seemed forced.
Then she set the Coke can down so hard it crinkled. “Back to work,” she ordered herself. She got off the stool and came over to Steve, speaking in a voice all the patrons would hear. “Dr. Benson, if you’ve finished your beer, I’d like a word with you outside.”
That seemed to have the desired effect on the pool players. Steve was in trouble, and they were smiling about it.
She turned to Levi, who was just finishing his lunch. “Levi, isn’t that your Dodge truck out there?”
“Yeah, still is.”
“Your license tags are expired. I’ll have to proceed on that. Come on.”
Levi got up from the table, left a tip, and put on his big cowboy hat.
The pool players snickered.
Tracy stopped short. “Something funny?”
They turned dumb and couldn’t seem to think of a thing.
Steve and Levi went to the cash register without a word, and Charlie rang them up.
Tracy leaned close while Charlie counted out change. “Charlie . . .”
“Eh?”
Tracy stole a glance at Carlotta and Kyle. Carlotta was sitting very close to Kyle, her hand on his forearm. Tracy spoke quietly, but that didn’t hide her anger. “You’re the one responsible for what goes on in here. If Carlotta wants to ply her trade, then I’d better not see it, because if I see it I have to do something about it, you understand?”
That threw Charlie off balance. He looked at Tracy, then at the couple at the table, and then back again. “Uh, sure, Tracy. I understand.”
“Outside, gentlemen.”
They went outside.
“Steve, wait here.”
So now he was Steve again. He waited by his camper. She was the cop, and after all, she’d saved him a bruising.
LEVI WALKED along not saying a word, and Tracy was glad of that, for now. She needed time to figure out how she could talk this guy out of
“Yeah,” said Kyle, “we’re okay.”
“Just shootin’ pool,” said one of the players.
Tracy digested that a moment, carefully studying all the looks of innocence. Finally, she smiled. “Then one of you liars get me a Coke.”
Laughter broke the tension. Tracy sat on a bar stool, and every man returned to his place. Levi sat down to finish his lunch, but Steve remained where he was, still in defense mode. A glare from Doug served as a reminder that the trouble, though contained for now, still remained.
Charlie brought Tracy a can of Diet Coke. She popped it open, then turned. She looked at Steve with a smile that bordered on amusement. “Why don’t you have a beer, Professor Benson?”
Professor Benson? Oh. She was one of them now, and he was the outsider. “I already have one,” Steve said and took his seat again, with all eyes upon him. He could see Clark County Sheriff’s Deputy Tracy Ellis was enjoying this. This was her turf, her big, wide comfort zone where she knew the ropes and had the authority and Steve didn’t. Well, go ahead, little lady, and play your game. I don’t need to. Steve took a swallow of beer because he wanted to, not because she had suggested it.
“So, Charlie, how’s the fishing?” Tracy asked, and Charlie began to report on conditions up and down the Hyde River. One of the pool players gave his input on which flies were working and where, and Paul at the end of the bar boasted about a twenty-five-inch cutthroat he’d landed just above the mill, wherever that was. Things were lightening up, and Steve could guess that was exactly Tracy’s intention. She was fitting right in, deftly handling the local subject matter and even the level of the language. She and these hunks must have all gone to school together.
Doug was the only one who wouldn’t join in. He downed the last suds from his beer, slammed the bottle down, got to his feet, and strode over to the cash register to settle up with Charlie. Then he left without a word or a look back. Tracy kept talking to the others, but Steve noticed that her smile seemed forced.
Then she set the Coke can down so hard it crinkled. “Back to work,” she ordered herself. She got off the stool and came over to Steve, speaking in a voice all the patrons would hear. “Dr. Benson, if you’ve finished your beer, I’d like a word with you outside.”
That seemed to have the desired effect on the pool players. Steve was in trouble, and they were smiling about it.
She turned to Levi, who was just finishing his lunch. “Levi, isn’t that your Dodge truck out there?”
“Yeah, still is.”
“Your license tags are expired. I’ll have to proceed on that. Come on.”
Levi got up from the table, left a tip, and put on his big cowboy hat.
The pool players snickered.
Tracy stopped short. “Something funny?”
They turned dumb and couldn’t seem to think of a thing.
Steve and Levi went to the cash register without a word, and Charlie rang them up.
Tracy leaned close while Charlie counted out change. “Charlie . . .”
“Eh?”
Tracy stole a glance at Carlotta and Kyle. Carlotta was sitting very close to Kyle, her hand on his forearm. Tracy spoke quietly, but that didn’t hide her anger. “You’re the one responsible for what goes on in here. If Carlotta wants to ply her trade, then I’d better not see it, because if I see it I have to do something about it, you understand?”
That threw Charlie off balance. He looked at Tracy, then at the couple at the table, and then back again. “Uh, sure, Tracy. I understand.”
“Outside, gentlemen.”
They went outside.
“Steve, wait here.”
So now he was Steve again. He waited by his camper. She was the cop, and after all, she’d saved him a bruising.
LEVI WALKED along not saying a word, and Tracy was glad of that, for now. She needed time to figure out how she could talk this guy out of
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