Downward Facing Death by Michelle Kelly Page B

didn’t think Ben had any more idea than she did.
    â€œBloody useless, the local police. Can’t find their arse from their elbow,” Ted muttered sullenly into his beer. Clearly a man angry at the world, Keeley thought, still trying not to take his comments personally.
    â€œIt’s not like it’s any great loss, though, is it?” his brother said, and Keeley looked at him, interested now.
    â€œDid you know him?”
    The Glovers shrugged, again almost in unison.
    â€œOnly for the betting,” Dan said.
    â€œBut he would always try and cheat you, if he could. Never liked paying up, either.”
    â€œThough he was quick enough to complain if you owed him money.”
    They both nodded at Keeley, her sins obviously forgotten for the moment while they had a new target. Then Ted, clearly the more dominant of the two, drank back his beer in one long gulp and nudged his brother.
    â€œWe need to go. Be seeing you,” he nodded to Jack, not even bothering to address Keeley. Dan at least nodded at her before he drank back his own beer and left. Keeley watched them go, suppressing a shudder of distaste.
    â€œDon’t mind them,” Jack said, as if reading her thoughts, “they don’t like most folks.”
    Keeley turned to him, placing her palms flat up in her lap as if beseeching. Bambi sniffed them, licked one of them, and then looked disappointed when he realized she wasn’t offering a tasty tidbit.
    â€œJack, is everyone going to be like this? Honestly, I thought…” She trailed off, embarrassed to feel tears stinging her eyes.
    â€œDon’t go upsetting yourself.” Jack patted her knee awkwardly. “Most of the younger folk will probably come flocking to you. It’s the older ones, we’ve got set in our ways, that’s all.”
    Keeley nodded, though she didn’t feel convinced. Her enthusiasm for questioning Jack about Terry had waned in the face of the Glovers’ rudeness, and she suddenly felt she didn’t want Jack to think she was snooping. He was one of the few friendly faces she saw.
    Instead she excused herself and took her tonic water over to the bar, feeling glum. She had discovered precisely nothing about Terry Smith so far other than the fact she already knew: that he was pretty much solidly disliked by every other resident of Belfrey. A distinction Keeley herself felt close to acquiring. Tom was polishing glasses, looking as faraway as usual.
    â€œI think it sounds pretty interesting,” he announced, surprising her, “this yoga stuff.”
    â€œReally?” Keeley perked up a little. Though she did have to suppress a giggle at the thought of Tom doing an inversion or upside-down pose. Would his beard get tangled in his nose ring?
    â€œYeah, I saw this clip on YouTube of a naked yoga class. It was hot.”
    Keeley nearly choked on her tonic water. “That’s not quite the same as what I do,” she said, but Tom continued, his eyes becoming even more glazed over.
    â€œThere was this one girl, she did this thing with her hips—”
    Keeley finished her drink in one quick gulp.
    â€œFascinating. But I’m not sure that’s yoga you were watching, Tom. I’d better be going.” She slid off her barstool, only to pause at his next words.
    â€œTerry was in the diner last week.”
    â€œOh?” Keeley slid back onto the stool, although given her height, or lack thereof, getting back on was rather less graceful than getting off.
    â€œYeah, I heard you asking Jack about that too, the other day.”
    â€œIs that unusual, though? I mean, it is a diner.”
    â€œI reckon so. The thing is—” he lowered his voice and leaned over the bar toward her, “—she was giving him money. Out of the till. Not like change, but a wad of notes.”
    That did seem odd. It didn’t fit with Keeley’s theory that Raquel could have been dating Terry for his