Page 54 of The House Beyond the Dunes

Nothing about him screams local, but he could be a homeowner who visits regularly. “How’d you find us?”

“I’ve known about this place for years.” A muscle pulses in his jaw.

“It’s not always been Joey’s, has it?”

“Used to be the Salty Dog.”

“Okay.”

He sips, falls into silence. He’s said all he’s going to say for now.

I catch the waggle of a glass in my peripheral vision. “Duty calls.”

“You’re on your own tonight?” he asks.

“Joey has had a hell of a time finding someone. The girl that worked with me ghosted us.” I don’t say Nikki’s name. He sips his drink, and his eyes never waver in the slightest.

He doesn’t react to news of a missing woman. But the best predators are successful for a reason. They can hide in plain sight as they sniff out not just the weak but also those willing to do anything to please. That describes Nikki.

The empty glass waiting for me requires a vodka refill. The customer is also ogling me. Yes, he’s horny, but he doesn’t give off a dangerous vibe. His type wants a drink, attention, and a bendable ear with a pair of tits. That makes me the complete package.

I fill his glass, then chat him up about his summer, the weather, and the song “Born to be Wild” playing on the sound system. He likes the attention, but soon I’m moving on to the next empty glass. It’s all a numbers game for me. Drinks equal tips.

A woman approaches Bourbon, and she’s smiling as she sips white wine. Bourbon is engaging, but he doesn’t seem into her. If I had to guess, and I’m generally spot on, she’s too aggressive for him. Her gaze is direct, her entire demeanor too bold. He likes women he can control.

The night drones on, customers get drunker, sloppier. Bourbon continues to chat up White Wine, and they are warming up to each other. She might not be his ideal, but she’ll do for tonight.

The conversations get louder, happier, and a few times angrier. Once when two men push away from their table and send chairs toppling, Joey reaches for my bat, which is never far. He stalks toward both and shoves them away from each other. A few of their buddies separate the guys, giving Joey the space to wedge my bat between them. Joey announces they’ve had their last drink here tonight. Time to leave.

It’s close to one in the morning when I collect the empty glasses, accept a few extra tips, smile, and wipe down the bar. Bourbon drains the last of his glass and holds it out for me as White Wine exits the ladies’ room. As I take the glass, I let my fingers brush his, but I’m careful not to make eye contact.

“Have a good night, Stevie.” A smile rumbles under his deep voice.

My name reverberates in my head as I settle the glass into a tub filled with empties. “You too, Bourbon.”

“Bourbon?”

I smile. “In my line of work, you get to know people by their drinks. Easier that way.”

An amused brow raises. “That’s very efficient. Do you know everyone’s drink here tonight?”

For some reason I want to prove I have an excellent memory. “Point to someone, and I’ll tell you what they drink.”

Bourbon nods toward a man downing the last of a tumbler. “That guy.”

I look over my shoulder and see a tall, burly man with a beard and shoulder-length hair. “Gin and tonic.”

“Really?”

“He likes a twist of lemon instead of lime. Had a rough Fourth of July. Ordered five, no, six drinks.”

“Shouldn’t you have cut him off?” Bourbon looks amused.

“His limit is around ten. He was going easy tonight. And he’s Ubering back to his cottage.”

“What about the short guy walking out of the restroom?” he asks.

“Tequila. Neat.”

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