Page 87 of In Cold Blood
Dax came out of the back, a white towel slung over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said, rising and crossing the room. It was busy that evening. Cutlery clinked. The tables were full of patrons of all ages. The aroma of fresh food permeated the air. A pretty waitress brought out a trolley with sizzling meat and threaded around tables to a booth. The High Peaks Pub and Brewery had a good reputation for serving top-rated food at affordable prices and because they brewed in-house, their selection was on another level. Noah noticed several people with tasters in front of them. Five small glasses of beer. Laughter erupted from another table as a youngster in their early twenties encouraged a friend to chug down a pitcher. He was wearing a birthday hat. Some of them had college sweaters on. He smiled, remembering what it was like to be that age.
“Dax.”
He appeared from behind the bar where he was emptying a tray of fresh glasses onto a shelf. “Oh hey, Noah. So, you managed to swing by.”
Noah immediately noticed Dax was sporting a fresh shiner.
He frowned. “What happened to the eye?”
“Oh, you know, lost a battle with the door,” he said, motioning to double swinging doors that took the staff out into the kitchen. “Where’s that furry beast?”
Noah pointed to a sign that read: NO DOGS ALLOWED. “Outside in the Bronco having a nap,” he said.
He chuckled. “A Bronco? Weren’t you driving a truck last time I saw you?”
“Long story.”
“So, you’re here alone?”
“No, I’m with…” He thumbed over his shoulder and Dax peered around him.
“Ah, the deputy. So, you found her in the end.” He leaned forward. “She’s hot, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
Dax laughed. “You never were one for saying it like it is.”
“Hey, um.” Noah brought a finger up. “Harry around?”
“No. He’s not. It’s his Friday off.” He laughed. “And he tries his best to avoid working on the weekends. Our busiest nights are Friday and Saturday. Gets pretty wild. Everyone is run off their feet.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Hey, uh, you never got back to me. I left a message on your phone.”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Cyrus Keller worked with you?”
Dax cleared his throat, turning to put a few more glasses away. It was clear he was uncomfortable. Noah recognized that look. It was the same one he had the day he sat him down to talk about Luke. “He does work here, doesn’t he?”
“Um. Well. Yeah.” Dax nodded, still looking away and loading glasses onto the shelf.
“Doing what?”
“A little of everything. Bartending occasionally.”
“When was he last in?”
Dax rose. “What is this, Noah?”
“I’m just curious to know his schedule. He’s a hard man to pin down. The number we had on file for him is no longer in service. I just found out he worked here and figured that maybe I could speak with him or get his address from Harry.”
“Well, he hasn’t been in for a while.”
“When was he last here?”
“The night of…” He tilted his head back and then locked eyes with Noah. “The night Luke died.”
“That’s right. He got into a brawl.”
