back.
“Look here, Doc,” yelled Patti in her hoarse voice as she elbowed Reid Hampton out of the way, “have you got a right to serve or not serve whoever you want in this dump or not?” Before Doc could answer, she pointed a painted fingernail at her daughter. “Let’s start with her. She doesn’t have a right to mix with decent people like the rest of us! How about dumping her out in the gutter where she belongs?”
Doc’s mouth set in a rigid line, the type of expression he used on patients who wouldn’t take their medicine. “Button it up, Patti. You don’t know your backside from a hole in the ground.”
“Yes, she does,” said Janet Driggers, who had come up to the bar to get a new pitcher and some snacks. “It’s the one on the left, obviously.”
Doc broke into a grin, and Patti whirled around, her anger diverted. But Janet was so outrageously blunt that only the most mean-minded Alpiner could be annoyed by her. Patti started to say something, then saw that Reid Hamptonwas heading back to his table. “Hey, you!” shouted Patti. “Come here! I want a word with you, Mr. so-called-movie producer-director-whatever-the-hell-you-are!”
But Reid Hampton ignored her. Patti started after him, but Milo again resorted to his strong-arm technique. “Come on, Patti, sit down, go eat some of that popcorn with the Driggers. Let’s not turn Loggerama into a war zone. I had more peaceful evenings in Nam.”
Patti glared at Milo, then realized that his hand was on her waist and gave him a coquettish look. “Hey, sheriff,” she cooed in a sudden shift of gears, “did anybody ever tell you you got terrific eyes? Soulful, or something like that.”
Milo didn’t flush this time, but he steered Patti away from the bar and into the care of a bemused Al and Janet Driggers. If Al was at a loss, his wife wasn’t: “Sit down, Patti. Tell us if it’s true about you and Jack doing it on the donkey engine up at Carroll Creek.”
Cody was back on his box, looking like a floppy doll. Marje fussed over him, checking his bruised chin and offering him a fresh beer. Dani Marsh had finally joined Matt Tabor at the other end of the bar. Reid Hampton was allowing Doc Dewey to pour him a beer while a fuming Jack Blackwell served Milo. Patti had settled in with Al and Janet Driggers. I had to wonder why Patti and Dani had been driving around in Matt Tabor’s fancy car Thursday night. How had they not managed to gouge out each other’s eyes? I gave myself a shake, feeling as if I’d been involved in an old-fashioned Hollywood Western barroom brawl.
Back at the sheriff’s table, Honoria looked composed, her head moving on her graceful neck as her serene gray eyes surveyed the aftermath of the mayhem. She caught me looking at her and gave me a conspiratorial smile.
Drat
, I thought,
I might get to like this woman
.
“This is fun,” exclaimed Carla to Ginny. “We should come here more often. It’s a lot more exciting than the Venison Inn.”
“So is gang warfare,” I remarked, wondering how much longer I could hold out.
Luckily, Ginny wasn’t as taken with the Icicle Creek Tavern’s floor show. “Frankly, I’ve got a headache from all this noise. Why don’t we grab a pizza and then head home?”
Carla’s face fell, but she rebounded quickly. “Double cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms, anchovies, and onions? Okay, we can eat it at my place. Want to get a video or catch the end of the Miss Alpine pageant? Emma?”
I shook my head. “Count me out. I’ve got a whole weekend to cram into half of tomorrow. Don’t forget the parade and the banquet and the fireworks.” Fortunately, my presence was required only at the banquet. Carla would cover the parade; Ed had volunteered to take pictures of the fireworks.
Carla finished her wine, and Ginny took a last sip of beer. My schooner had been empty for a long time. I asked Doc for our tab and insisted on treating my employees.
“Quite a night, eh, girlies?” asked
“Look here, Doc,” yelled Patti in her hoarse voice as she elbowed Reid Hampton out of the way, “have you got a right to serve or not serve whoever you want in this dump or not?” Before Doc could answer, she pointed a painted fingernail at her daughter. “Let’s start with her. She doesn’t have a right to mix with decent people like the rest of us! How about dumping her out in the gutter where she belongs?”
Doc’s mouth set in a rigid line, the type of expression he used on patients who wouldn’t take their medicine. “Button it up, Patti. You don’t know your backside from a hole in the ground.”
“Yes, she does,” said Janet Driggers, who had come up to the bar to get a new pitcher and some snacks. “It’s the one on the left, obviously.”
Doc broke into a grin, and Patti whirled around, her anger diverted. But Janet was so outrageously blunt that only the most mean-minded Alpiner could be annoyed by her. Patti started to say something, then saw that Reid Hamptonwas heading back to his table. “Hey, you!” shouted Patti. “Come here! I want a word with you, Mr. so-called-movie producer-director-whatever-the-hell-you-are!”
But Reid Hampton ignored her. Patti started after him, but Milo again resorted to his strong-arm technique. “Come on, Patti, sit down, go eat some of that popcorn with the Driggers. Let’s not turn Loggerama into a war zone. I had more peaceful evenings in Nam.”
Patti glared at Milo, then realized that his hand was on her waist and gave him a coquettish look. “Hey, sheriff,” she cooed in a sudden shift of gears, “did anybody ever tell you you got terrific eyes? Soulful, or something like that.”
Milo didn’t flush this time, but he steered Patti away from the bar and into the care of a bemused Al and Janet Driggers. If Al was at a loss, his wife wasn’t: “Sit down, Patti. Tell us if it’s true about you and Jack doing it on the donkey engine up at Carroll Creek.”
Cody was back on his box, looking like a floppy doll. Marje fussed over him, checking his bruised chin and offering him a fresh beer. Dani Marsh had finally joined Matt Tabor at the other end of the bar. Reid Hampton was allowing Doc Dewey to pour him a beer while a fuming Jack Blackwell served Milo. Patti had settled in with Al and Janet Driggers. I had to wonder why Patti and Dani had been driving around in Matt Tabor’s fancy car Thursday night. How had they not managed to gouge out each other’s eyes? I gave myself a shake, feeling as if I’d been involved in an old-fashioned Hollywood Western barroom brawl.
Back at the sheriff’s table, Honoria looked composed, her head moving on her graceful neck as her serene gray eyes surveyed the aftermath of the mayhem. She caught me looking at her and gave me a conspiratorial smile.
Drat
, I thought,
I might get to like this woman
.
“This is fun,” exclaimed Carla to Ginny. “We should come here more often. It’s a lot more exciting than the Venison Inn.”
“So is gang warfare,” I remarked, wondering how much longer I could hold out.
Luckily, Ginny wasn’t as taken with the Icicle Creek Tavern’s floor show. “Frankly, I’ve got a headache from all this noise. Why don’t we grab a pizza and then head home?”
Carla’s face fell, but she rebounded quickly. “Double cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms, anchovies, and onions? Okay, we can eat it at my place. Want to get a video or catch the end of the Miss Alpine pageant? Emma?”
I shook my head. “Count me out. I’ve got a whole weekend to cram into half of tomorrow. Don’t forget the parade and the banquet and the fireworks.” Fortunately, my presence was required only at the banquet. Carla would cover the parade; Ed had volunteered to take pictures of the fireworks.
Carla finished her wine, and Ginny took a last sip of beer. My schooner had been empty for a long time. I asked Doc for our tab and insisted on treating my employees.
“Quite a night, eh, girlies?” asked
Similar Books
