“Help yourself.” Hector leaned back against the counter and took a long sip. He didn’t tend to drink a lot of coffee, but that first cup in the morning was mandatory, especially if he wanted to keep from strangling people.
“Okay, what signs?” he asked again once his brain started functioning on more than sleep deprivation.
“I received several phone calls this morning from people heading into town, enough that it warranted me coming out to check. And the reports were right. From the edge of your driveway all the way to the Rusty Nail there are signs about every half mile.”
“Saying what?”
“Most of them talk about the fact that the Rusty Nail is closed for business until further notice, but a few of them say Harvey’s been doctoring his booze and selling cheap shit labeled as expensive shit.”
Hector grunted. That would explain the lack of customers the previous night. “You need to talk to Harvey about this. He’s been having issues with one of his suppliers. The old man had a heart attack, and his bonehead kid took over. We noticed the fake labels last week. Harvey said he took care of it.”
“Well, someone seems to have it out for the Rusty Nail, and they’re laying the blame at your feet. The signs start at the end of your driveway.”
Hector shrugged. “Don’t know why. I found the fake labels, but Harvey was the one who dealt with it. I’m just a bouncer.”
“No idea why someone would be singling you out?”
“I toss a lot of drunks out of the bar, but I seriously doubt they even remember me by the time they sober up.” It was the only explanation he could think of.
“Anyone specific?”
“No one that stands out.”
“What about here at the house? Any problems?”
Hector thought about the ten-dollar bill he’d found taped to his fridge when he got home from work last night then shook his head. “Nothing that sticks out, Sheriff.”
He didn’t know why he kept that bit of information from the sheriff, but, as weird as it was, he didn’t believe it had anything to do with the signs.
“All right, I’m going to remove the signs and then go talk with Harvey. If you see any more, give me a call. I’m not real sure what’s going on here, but I’d like to put a stop to it before it gets out of hand.”
“I’m sure Harvey would appreciate that. We hardly had anyone come by the bar last night.”
A frown wrinkled the sheriff’s forehead. “Do you think this could be someone wanting to take Harvey’s customers?”
“Who?” Hector asked. “The Rusty Nail is the only bar in Cade Creek.”
“Maybe I need to go down to city hall and see if anyone has gotten any business licenses to open another bar.”
Hector had no idea what was going on, but he could feel the sheriff’s worry. He had the same concern. “Check building permits, too. If someone is trying to take Harvey’s customers, they might be starting now to drum him out of business with the intention of building something to replace him once he’s gone.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“If there’s nothing else, Sheriff, I’d really like to get back to bed.”
Sheriff Riley chuckled. “Okay, Hector.”
Hector started leading the sheriff back toward the front door, but the man stopped in the entry and glanced around.
“I never dreamed this place could look this good. You’ve done quite a good job, Hector. It doesn’t even look like the same place.”
“It’s coming along.”
“Oh, believe me, it is. I remember the few times I was out here to deal with the previous owners. It looks totally different. The O’Brians never kept it this nice.”
“You knew the former owners?”
“In a manner of speaking. Happy was born just up those stairs.” The sheriff pointed to the newly refurbished staircase. “He lived here with his mother and grandparents until he moved in with my deputy.”
