Page 35 of Wham Line
“What happened?Who did it?”Panic flashed across his face.“It wasn’t me!”
A matronly woman who had donned earmuffs for the occasion was watching us with beady bird eyes.Two young women were whispering to each other.An old man who, if he’d had a mustache, would have reminded me of a walrus was leaning toward us; he’d overextended himself and was about to topple.
“This town,” I said under my breath.In a slightly strained voice, I added, “Can we talk over there?In private?”
The bartender didn’t look too sure about that, but he let me lead him away from the crowd.We ended up near one of the sun-filled windows giving onto the ocean, where the water was restless and tipped with gray teeth.
“This place is cursed,” the bartender said.“Two deaths?That’s got to be a ghost, right?”
“Ghosts aren’t really my area of expertise.I wanted to ask you about the woman who died, Sparkie.Did you know her?”
He shook his head.“We’ve only been open a couple of days.Today’s the first day I saw her.”
“You weren’t working last night?”
Another shake of the head.
“Let’s start at the beginning.When she came in, was she alone?”
The bartender screwed up his face in concentration.“Yeah.Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay—”
“But not for long.I remember I was mixing a drink when she sat down, and then I went over to help her.But by then, a guy was sitting with her, and they were talking.She waved me away.”
“Older guy?The one she was arguing with, the one with the bristly hair?”
“That’s him.”
“Did you hear what they were arguing about?”
“Nah.It’s been busy today.”
Another thought occurred to me.“Do you think someone sitting next to them might have heard?”
“Maybe.”He shrugged.“It was loud, and they were talking pretty quietly.The only times I heard them were when she raised her voice, and it wasn’t much.”
“All right.When did she finally order her drink?”
“After that guy left.”
“You’re sure?”
The bartender nodded.“I checked on her a couple of times, but she was still talking to him, all intense-like.Then, when he left, she wanted me to get her a drink right away.”
“What did she have?”
“Uh, a negroni, I think.Definitely a cocktail.”
“Do you remember if any of the bottles looked tampered with?”
He gave me that wide-eyed look again.
“Never mind,” I said.“What about food?Did she have anything to eat?”
“Yeah, fish and chips.”
“Before that?”
