By the time he was changing clothes in the locker room at the end of his shift, he texted Evy.
Drinks tonight?He had to work the next day too, but it was a night shift so he could deal with a sore head in the morning.
Tripod at seven or nine? How much booze and talking to you need? You decide.
Mark chuckled at the message.
Erin, who was coming out of her corner of the locker room in her civilian clothing—that was what passed as women’s changing room in Acker—looked at him with fake shock on her face. She put a hand on her chest and gasped theatrically.
“What?” he grumped, but couldn’t help but smile anyway. The Peters sisters were some of the nicer people he knew and right now that seemed to be exactly what he needed.
“You laughed. Out loud.”
Mark rolled his eyes at her. He couldn’t help but to blurt out, “If you must know, I’m going out to drinks with your sister.”
For a moment, Erin just stood there, but then she smiled slowly. Her expression was almost fond, which seemed odd to have directed at himself, but then maybe it was for her sister instead.
“Good. I’d join you, but I have a feeling that it’s less about socializing, right?”
Damned cops and their intuition. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad, Mark, really.” She looked as though she wanted to say more, but instead, she walked past him, squeezed his shoulder, and went on her merry way.
So, drinks with Evy Peters it was. Geez. He shot out another text.I think seven is fine.
* * * *
The fun thing about living in a small town like Acker was that people got creative with their businesses. Stuart and Leah’s Tripod was one of those. There was the diner downstairs and they made good enough specialty coffees to be able to call themselves a café when the tourist season brought in people with fancier tastes. They also had the upstairs that could loosely be called a bar and restaurant.
It had the same food as downstairs, pub food in a way, because of the context, and a nice bar with genuine leather booths and sometimes, live music. Makai had redone a bunch of the furniture and tonight, the “church ladies” were playing what decidedly was not poker with real money in a public space. The table they played on was a card table, also made by Makai. It was a gorgeous piece of furniture, and Mark felt oddly good about its maker having means to support himself in Acker.
He tipped an imaginary hat to the ladies who tittered and nudged each other. Only one of five looked worried about a deputy seeing what they were doing, the others didn’t seem to mind.
There wasn’t a church in Acker, the closest was in Mercer—or so Mark thought, he had never been religious—but they were still called the “Church Ladies” by everyone in town. He was pretty sure their ages fell somewhere between seventy-five and ninety.
Each of them was perfectly coiffed, wearing their best clothes, and there was plenty of makeup and perfume too. Mark turned away and walked toward the bar before they could talk to him. He wasn’t there for their company, after all.
Once he hopped onto a bar stool, he noticed that there was nobody tending the bar. Soon enough, a clattering sound came through the swinging door to the back of the bar, and Stuart bustled in.
“Hey Mark, what can I get you?” He smiled as he dropped a couple of wooden bowls of pretzels on the bar.
“Evening. I’ll have a beer and a cheap whiskey, thanks.” He’d walked into town from home and knew that he could probably get a ride from someone. There wasn’t a taxi company in town, but there were always deputies at work, and tonight, the sheriff himself was on evening shift.
Calling for your boss to drive your drunk ass home was a bit… much. Mark hoped that someone else would end up coming in, being sober, and having a car.
“That kind of night?” Stuart asked, having turned around to get him his drinks from the bar.
“Oh yeah. Sort of. Meeting Evy.”
“Ah.” That was all Stuart needed to say. One little syllable and it became obvious in his tone that he also thought Mark was doing a good thing.
“Hey, I could be on a date for all you know,” he said reflexively.
Stuart turned around and looked at him with a brow raised. “Just for that, the first round’s for free, buddy. I’m not letting you pay for your own delusions.”
“What does that even mean?”
“She’s not your type. Besides, she’s taken, despite her girlfriend being in Puerto Rico still.” Stuart’s tone was so matter-of-fact that it almost made Mark recoil.
