Page 26 of Lone Star

“Like us,” Michelle said, with a snort of her own, dragging the tines of her fork through her salad.

“We looked a helluva lot better than him, let me tell you.”

Darla stabbed at lettuce with short, agitated movements, mouth drawn in a tight line. “I don’t like that he was in here. What if he planted a bug?”

“He didn’t,” Jenny said, firmly. But her gaze lifted and swept across the common room, anyway. “He wasn’t that slick, and he was watched the whole time.”

“Don’t care: I still don’t like it,” Darla said, spearing a tomato forcefully.

Michelle didn’t either, but she was trying not to sound paranoid.

Candy and Jinx had headed off to look into something, and the others had drifted away in ones and twos: to make a run with the wrecker, to go shake metaphorical trees and see if any information fell out of them.

The clubhouse seemed too quiet with just the three of them – four of them, if you counted Nickel. The kids counted, she supposed. TJ was down for his nap, and Jack, kept out of preschool for the day after their traumatic morning. But kids, Michelle felt a bit guilty for having learned, felt like soft spots in these situations. Like vulnerable points. It wasn’t just about watching her own back anymore, but about protecting her child: she didn’t resent that for a second, but she felt less capable than she had as a single girl with a knife and a gun.

“…Michelle?”

She started, glancing up from her plate. “I’m sorry?”

Darla and Jenny both studied her with furrowed brows.

It was Darla who’d spoken. “I asked if anything weird’s happened at the bar lately. Anything to worry about?”

Michelle knew she was asking if there had been any creepy customers. Any guys acting suspicious, hitting on women who didn’t want their attentions; anyone who’d needed bouncing, who was lingering out back, being generally suspicious. But the thing that popped into her head, and made its way out of her mouth was: “Pacer’s sister came by last night.”

“Oh,” both women said at once.

Jenny set her fork down with a quiet click that seemed deafening in the suddenly-silent room. Nickel had stopped sweeping, and hastily resumed, head ducked, when Michelle glanced his way. “So you met Melanie,” Jenny said, without inflection, face carefully blank.

Like she wasn’t sure how Michelle would react. Like she was trying not to upset her, or give away her own feelings on the matter.

It shouldn’t have, but that small gesture annoyed Michelle. “Yes,” she said crisply. “I met her. Are the two of you friends?”

Jenny eased back in her chair a fraction; maybe Michelle had been a littletoocrisp. “No. We’re not. You’ve never seen her here before, have you?”

Touché.

“We used to hang out some,” Jenny said, softening a little. “Back in the day, when Pacer was still trying to prospect. That’s how she and Candy met. She was always too…” She frowned. “Bubbly for me. But in a really aggressive way, you know? You met her. She takes that Southern friendliness thing and turns it up to eleven – and feeds it speed or something. I dunno. She’s alright.

“But,” she added, head tilting to an emphatic angle. “She and Candy were awful together. Just terrible. It was like they didn’t even like spending time with each other. And she was always after him about the club. Total mismatch.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re just trying to make me feel better?”

Jenny shrugged and picked her fork up again. “What’s there to feel bad about? They broke up ages ago, and he’s married to you. Becauseyou guysare great together.” She gestured with her fork, a stabbing motion through the air between them.

Michelle snorted.

“What did she want, anyway?” Jenny asked, resuming her lunch.

Michelle looked down at her salad – a beautiful creation of Darla’s, with grilled chicken, mandarin oranges, sugared pecans, blue cheese, and homemade dressing – and decided eating any more would be unwise, given the way her stomach was flipping. “She said she was worried about Pacer. That he was more upset than she’d ever seen him.” She pushed her plate away for good measure, and Darla sent her a sympathetic look. “She wanted to ask Candy if he knew anything yet.”

“She couldn’t pick up a phone?” Jenny asked, shaking her head.

Michelle’s stomach tightened another fraction. “I guess she didn’t have his number.”

Jenny and Darla traded a look.

“What?”

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