Shot Girl by Karen E. Olson

understood. I tried a smile on for size. "You should’ve seen him doubled over."
    But he wasn’t amused. "Yeah, sorry I missed that." He paused. "I walked around the building. Near the parking lot."
    I knew what he was looking for now, but I had to turn this around to something else. "So if you were there, why didn’t Tom round you up, too, to question you?"
    Vinny studied my face for a few seconds. He was on to me. "He doesn’t know I was there."
    I hadn’t seen him, either, except after, when he was standing behind the crime-scene tape with all the other curious passersby.
    "You were in the back room, watching that show," Vinny reminded me, reading my mind. "No men allowed, remember? When I saw you come out and talk to Ralph, I moved out of sight."
    "So were you watching me or him?"
    Vinny licked his lips, and I could tell he was thinking about lying. But he must have changed his mind, because he said honestly, "Both of you."
    "So since you knew he worked there and I was going to be there, were you trying to get some sort of clue about how I’d be around him?" I thought it was a fair question.
    Vinny ran his hands over the stubble on his face. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t jealousy.
    "Jesus, Vinny, did you think I was in some sort of danger?"
    It was like someone hit a switch, and the smile was back, his eyes twinkling. "You, in danger? I know you can take care of yourself."
    Yeah, right.
    The waiter slipped the bill onto the table, and Vinny pulled out his credit card, putting up his hand as I opened my mouth to protest. I usually argued, but decided not to this time. I wasn’t in the mood, and the belly dancer was sashaying closer to our table, jingling as she moved. The sooner we could get out of here, the better.
    We stepped out of the restaurant and crossed the street, where twenty-somethings were spilling out the door of Bar. I heard the rhythmic thud of a bass from somewhere within. I was too old for this, but the news about Ralph and my curiosity about Felicia had grabbed hold of me, and Vinny had grabbed hold of my arm, and within seconds we were swimming through a sea of firm, nubile bodies.
    I wondered if I looked as old as I felt.
    "Excuse me, ma’am," I heard from behind as a young man in a Boston Red Sox T-shirt squeezed past.
    Yeah, I looked as old as I felt.
    I tugged on Vinny’s hand. "Let’s get out of here. We really don’t belong here."
    He wasn’t paying attention to me. I held his fingers lightly as we wove through the crowd. The music was so loud, I thought I’d gone deaf: Mouths were moving, I saw people laughing, and a chair skidded across the floor, but I heard none of it, my eyes taking in everything, my ears nothing.
    I tightened my hold on Vinny’s hand, squeezed. He turned to me, smiling, indicating someone behind me. I turned to see a tall brunette with blond highlights wearing a tight camisole and short skirt, legs stretching down into stilettos. I had a flashback from the other night, when I wore something similar. But I wasn’t in my twenties. I must have looked like an idiot.
    I wondered if this girl was the mysterious Felicia, but I remembered the health and science photo. The hair was the right color, but it was straighter and I didn’t remember highlights.
    My hand was cold. Vinny was gesturing, talking with the girl, who held a tray of test tubes filled with a clear liquid. He handed over a few bills and took two, handing me one, leaning in toward her, and saying something in her ear before turning to me and shouting, "This is Ashley. She’s a friend of Felicia’s."
    I nodded in what I hoped was a polite way before taking the test tube. I didn’t even sniff it; I downed the tequila shot and put the tube back. Vinny and Ashley were grinning at me, Vinny indicating he would buy me another. I shook my head and pointed back the way we came, not waiting for him, moving toward the door, then finally back out into the sauna outside.
    A car passed, and I heard its