Death By Sunken Treasure (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 2) by Kait Carson Page B

of us. “Caridad will be here soon. She’s the night bartender. Good to see you.”
    I took a deep draught from my beer. The cold liquid soothed my dry throat. I preferred wine, but Mallory’s choice was good. This seemed like more of a beer place.
    I brought Mallory up to date while we sipped our beers. After telling her about my trip to the sheriff’s office, I fell silent, lost in my own thoughts and not finding them comforting.
    Mallory gave me a nudge. “Penny for your thoughts.”
    “Not worth that much.” I looked around. This was a bar made for drinking. Not one of your usual trendy tourist attractions. The majority of the patrons dressed in the attire of working fishermen. It was a place to come to forget your troubles. “Ever been in here before?”
    “Nope, but you make interesting choices.” She drained the last of her beer and put the mug on the bar.
    “Would you like another?” a soft-voiced woman with a heavy Spanish accent asked.
    “Please, and can we get menus?” Mallory asked.
    Her request startled me. Mallory rarely drank and watched her weight like a ballet dancer. I lifted an eyebrow in her direction. She shrugged a reply.
    The young woman handed over menus as a group of men at the end of the bar burst into song. One of the men stood and held his mug in the air. “To Mike Terry, may he rot in Hell.” The rest burst into laughter. Jake came out of a back room, pulled himself a beer, and toasted them back. The barmaid glanced over, made the sign of the cross, said something in Spanish I couldn’t understand, and then took Mallory’s order.
    When the food arrived I nearly regretted my decision not to order. The burger looked good. Almost as good as my favorite Key Colony Inn burger, despite that, I still wasn’t hungry enough to change my mind. I glanced at Mallory, who offered me a French fry from the basket that sat in front of her. The noise at the end of the bar disturbed me. From what filtered down to us, it sounded like a backwards wake. A celebration of a death well deserved, not a life well lived.
    When seats opened up at the far end of the bar, I suggested we move down. Mallory, her burger and fries finished, brought her napkin to her lips. “If we’re diving tomorrow, I think it’s time we headed out. Ready?”
    She had to shout the last bit when the men at the bar broke into song. The lyrics sounded like “for he’s a jolly dead fellow.” Raucous laughter followed and the buzz of voices kicked up a notch. I hesitated. “I’d like to stay a while. You go.”
    She looked troubled. “No, that’s okay. I’m not leaving you here alone, girlfriend.”
    “I’m fine, really,” I said with more bravado than I felt. Mallory really did look tired.
    After some back and forth between us, Mallory hoisted herself off the barstool. I watched her until the door closed behind her. Then I motioned to the barmaid and indicated I was moving down to the end of the bar. She came over and picked up my half-full beer.
    “Down there?” She furrowed her brow.
    I nodded and slid off the stool. “Do you know those men?”
    “ Sí , they all worked for the owner on the treasure boat.”
    That was exciting news. I filed the information away and moved down to sit near them, eager to listen to their conversation. One man picked up his mug and gave me a slight salute. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Devon talking to his stepfather, Jake.
    Jake pulled a pitcher and put it in front of the group. They rapidly topped off their beers all the while talking about what a lousy boss Mike had been. One of the men called out to the barmaid. She went over, glancing in my direction. She came back, picked up my beer, brought it over to where the man sat, and refilled it from the pitcher in front of him. Then she brought the full mug back to me.
    “Never saw you here before, missy,” the man said. “But you are a pretty enough sight to give my last beer to.” I felt flustered when he held up the now