Page 87 of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Dixie nodded her approval, then ordered a margarita. Brandy turned to me.

“I’m surprised to see you out here,” I said. “You’re usually behind the bar.”

She thumbed toward the bar. “Wendy called in sick, and Nash is here, so I’m covering the floor until Christy shows up.”

I took a look at the bar, and sure enough, Nash Jackson, the new owner of the Jackhammer, was standing behind the counter, intently watching me.

An uncomfortable feeling crept over me, so I turned back to Brandy. “I’ll take a beer.”

“And we’ll take an order of chicken wings,” Dixie added. “And some fries.”

“Got it,” Brandy said, then headed to the kitchen.

The band started to play, and we watched them for several moments as Belinda asked Dixie about filmingDarlingInvestigations. The events of the afternoon were weighing on my mind.

Lila Brewer had murdered a boy, and no one had ever suspected. Then again, no one suspected Chuck of murdering Bethany either, only that hadn’t happened the way I’d imagined it. How had Lila and Rachel kept the secret for so long? How could the police work have been so shoddy that they hadn’t realized Bethany’s body had been moved?

I knew I should call Luke, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet anyway. I didn’t want to tell him about Rachel’s involvement, and I wasn’t sure I should tell him about Lila. But the one thing still bothering me was that Chuck’s brother might never know what happened to him. Would he prefer to have his brother still missing, or find out what a horrible person he’d been?

I excused myself to go to the bathroom. After I finished my business and washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, still unsettled. I’d helped Magnolia find closure, but I wasn’t sure she felt much better knowing her mother had killed a man. Then again, Magnolia didn’t look all that surprised. I couldn’t help wondering why Belinda had stayed behind, though. I didn’t know her well, but this seemed out of character. I couldn’t help but think there was something more she wanted from us, and apparently, she needed alcohol to boost her courage to ask.

I walked out the door and was starting down the hall when I came face-to-face with Nash. He was standing in the middle of the hall, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was waiting for me.

Nash was fairly new to Sweet Briar. He’d just bought the bar a few months ago from Rudy, an older gentleman who was loved by all. I’d only been in the Jackhammer a couple of times since I’d almost been killed last June in the parking lot, but last I’d heard, some patrons weren’t handling the transition well—despite the fact that Nash hadn’t changed a thing, except for adding bottled water to the menu after I’d made the suggestion back in June.

Nash and I hadn’t gotten off to a great start after our first meeting last summer, when I’d been chased by an alligator on his cousin Rick’s property, and he’d nearly gotten bit trying to save me from being eaten. Our relationship hadn’t improved much over the next couple of days. Still, he’d gone to some trouble to save my life a second time when Nash’s cousin had tried to kill me, and then he’d sent his cousin toward awaiting police. Rick hadn’t survived the gunfight. But Nash and I hadn’t made up after all that. If anything, we’d been even more at odds. While he’d saved me, he hadn’t seemed all that happy about it.

I’d thanked him that night, but it hadn’t been the sincerest of thanks. It occurred to me that I owed him more than that.

The looks he had sent my way earlier hadn’t been the friendliest, but I was determined not to lash out first. I could be the bigger person.

“Hey,” I said, coming to a stop a few feet in front of him.

Surprise flickered in his eyes, probably because I hadn’t come out swinging. He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “Hey.”

“I never properly thanked you for what you did for me…you know. With your cousin.”

Irritation flashed in his eyes. “I only did what any decent human being would have done.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I said with a shrug.

Something shifted in him, his jaw hardening. “Come to think of it, I couldn’t let Rick wipe out Sweet Briar’s cash cow, now could I?”

My mouth dropped open and my hands fisted at my sides. “Are you calling me acash cow?”

The animosity in his eyes had spread across his face. “Are you denying the town’s makin’ bank from your TV show? Besides,” he said, scorn dripping from his words, “it was meant to be a compliment.”

I was still struggling to get a grip on the fact that he’d called me a cow, which I couldn’t quite accept as a compliment.

“I suppose the showishelping to boost the economy,” I ground out.

He shrugged, as if to say,That’s what I already said.

He stared at me for several seconds, and I couldn’t help noticing how handsome he was, in a rugged sort of way…if women were attracted to that sort of thing. Which I knew they were, but not me. No, I was attracted to Luke.

I realized we’d been staring at each other for several seconds, so I broke the silence and asked with a whole lot of attitude, “Was there something you needed, Nash?”

“No,” he said, shifting his weight and moving to the side so I could pass. “I was on my way to the storeroom. You just happened to be blocking my path.” He didn’t waste any time walking past me and opened the back door.

---