That’s the part I had some issues with. I hadn’t officially come up with my reason for needing the bathroom. Reed and I didn’t agree on the best approach. “Why am I the one getting sick?”
“Are you still having issues with the fake puking?” he asked, and I swear he lifted his brow with the question, but we were too far past the streetlight to be sure. “Can you handle it?”
“Oh, definitely.” I narrowed my eyes for good measure and then opened my mouth and made a fake gagging gesture. But then… right on cue, like my other practice measures, thinking of the fake puke, sent my stomach into a tumble and the reflexes in my throat went into overdrive. We were no longer in drill territory. I clamped my mouth shut and sucked in a slow deep breath through my nose to quiet the panicking muscles.
“You okay?” he asked, slowing his steps. “Maybe we should go with the other bathroom issue.”
My cheeks heated, and I picked up the pace, leaving him behind for a full stride until he easily caught up.
How horrifying.
I wasn’t going to stand on Bay Street talking about poop with an insanely hot guy.
“Absolutely not,” I said and crossed my arms over my chest while keeping my quick pace. We needed to hurry and get there so the nightmare of this situation ended. “I have everything under control. I’m just really lifelike. It’s superior acting skills.”
From the way he tilted his head, raised one side of his lips, dipped his chin, and then turned his attention to the street, he did not believe my lie. That made two of us.
That meant I had to show him. I’d be the best fake puker anyone in Savannah had ever seen. I’d fake puke myself right into the bathroom where they’d found Lisa’s body, and we’d do the best investigation Death Finds You First ever recorded. They’d probably make an award for our journalism prowess.
“It’s weird how quiet it is compared to this afternoon,” I said as we slowed our steps. Our destination had a small black awning right in the middle of two big windows. The multistory building had the name Savannah Brewing, displayed in big black letters right across the front between floors two and three.
We both stopped in front of the building and let our gazes travel upward to stare at the sign before meeting one another again.
“Savannah Brewing,” Reed said as he read the sign. “Are you ready?”
I tried to stare inside the bar for a hint of the madness we’d walk into but couldn’t make out the figures. The place was said to be a big tourist draw, so I expected a crush of people past the doors. “Let’s do this.”
“It’s go time.” Reed held the door open for me but casually glanced inside and frowned. “What the heck?”
“What in the world?” I asked, walking in and then stopping dead in my tracks to stare at the area around us.
The place was empty. Well… not empty, empty. A huge wooden bar took up a sizeable chunk of space in the middle. Wooden booths covered the areas in front of the large windows. It looked just like a bar should except for one important piece.
The people.
“Are you here for the overnight paranormal investigation?” a man asked as he walked out from a back room. The way he wavered his voice at paranormal investigation seemed like he was mocking us. Sure, I wasn’t here to fight ghosts, but making fun of paying customers wasn’t a smart business plan. Plus, we didn’t want to anger the dead if the place was truly haunted.
“That’s us,” Reed answered.
The guy nodded. “We’re just closing up now. The rest of the tour will be here soon. Grab a place at the bar and get something to drink if you want, but the kitchen is closed.”
What bar in a popular tourist area closed before 10 p.m., even on a Tuesday? Maybe mocking the customers wasn’t their biggest issue. Even empty, the place had a weird… feel to it. Was it the ghosts or the grime on all the wooden surfaces? Why in the hell was this Casey’s favorite place? Did Lisa have a sense of humor?
Reed walked toward the bar but stopped and turned back toward me. “There’s no one here.”
“Right.” We’d visually established that.
He widened his eyes. “There’s no one here, meaning there’s probably no one in the bathroom if you wanted to go.”
His point hit me like a bowling ball, taking out the last pin. “Ohhhh. Right. The bathroom.”
We were basically free range.
I never expected an empty bar, so he didn’t plan for it.
Reed pointed at a red sign hanging against the back wall advertising bathrooms. He gave one quick glance behind us before we both slipped past the women’s door.
“Here’s what we know,” I said, stopping in the middle of the three-stall bathroom. “Lisa left Casey a note saying they had to talk and to meet at his favorite place. Since that meeting never happened and she died here, this has to be it. Right?”
