Page 10 of Blood Moon

“Bring you one?”

“No, thanks. I’ve had my limit for the day.”

Mitch gave him a knowing look, but John didn’t need a reminder of the period of time when his limit had been dangerously high. “Make sure the fridge door closes all the way. You have to push on it.” He stepped over Mutt and plopped down on the center cushion of the sofa.

From the kitchen Mitch said, “I’m over my quota, too. Had to pretend to guzzle longnecks all day.” He returned with a bottle of water, uncapped it, and almost emptied it with one long drink. Then he sprawled in an easy chair. “God, this feels good. Played pool till I wanted to impale myself on the cue. High point of my day was when you sauntered in. Couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I turned around and saw that you were the smart-ass. Not that you aren’t one. You’re just not the smart-ass I expected.”

His friend toasted John with his water bottle. “You played it well. No reaction except that steely-eyed glare of yours. Ten seconds of it had me shivering in my shoes. I was thinking, ‘Shit, I hope he recognizes me.’ Nearly peed myself when you stormed back in and belted me in the gut.”

John laughed. “Well, you’d flipped me the bird. I took it as an invitation.”

“It was, but I wasn’t sure you’d pick up on it. Sorry about the black eye, the jaw, but laying into you won me points with those guys.”

“Only one pitched in to help you.”

“My new partner. He didn’t know you, bought our act, too.”

“Did you tell him later?”

“No. I thought we needed to show the dirtbags how we’d do in a fight.”

“You did all right,” John said, working his jaw from side to side.

“So, mission accomplished. Thanks for the sacrifice. I owe you a favor.”

“Thanks for not pulling your knife on me.” John knew Mitch carried one in an ankle holster. “How close are you to nailing them?”

“Close, I think.”

“Be sharp, Mitch.”

“Always.” He downed the rest of the water, then set the bottle on the floor. “What the hell were you doing in that place?”

“Having a Coke.”

John knew the quip wouldn’t satisfy his intuitive friend, and he was right. Mitch squinted one eye and stared him down.

John leaned against the back of the sofa and linked his fingers over the crown of his head, trying to look casual and indifferent. “Just killing a Saturday afternoon. Went for a drive through the boonies. Thought about fishing but was too lazy to get the gear out. Got thirsty and stopped at the next place I came to, which happened to be that bar.” He shrugged.

“Uh-huh.” Mitch continued to look at him through his squint.

John rolled his eyes. “She was just a woman.”

“I noticed that right off. I’m smart that way.”

John thought of dropping it there, but curiosity wouldn’t let him. “How long had she been there ahead of me?”

“Fifteen minutes. Thereabouts.”

“Did she talk to anybody?”

“Except to order her drink, no. Sat over there all by her lonesome until you showed up. Is she someone special?”

“Special?Mitch. I never laid eyes on her until today. It was totally random. You saw. She paid for my Coke. I went over to thank her. We chatted. She said she had to go. I saw her safely past you reprobates and to her car.”

“A perfect gentleman.”

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