“Not that you’d want to drink.” He reached under the bar and drew out a cold, brown bottle of Huckleberry Shanty from Wallace Brewing, which was located just beyond Silverville. Taking off the cap, he slid it across the bar to me. No beer mugs or coasters at Dunphey’s.
“Thanks.” I took a deep drink, letting the sweet brew relax me. “You going to the family barbecue tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said easily, positioning the now somewhat clean glasses to the shelf behind him. “Quint is debuting his new love. Hope she’s up to handling the family.”
I nodded. “She is. I’ve met her and really like her. Heather is sweetly thoughtful and she adores him.” Their romance had started fast and wild, and I thought it’d last. “My bet is engagement by February.” I leaned toward him. “Any gossip?”
“Yep. Bosco is seeing a woman named Marlie but doesn’t seem to know he is, and my bet is they’ll be married by July.” He grinned.
Oh, good gossip. I hopped happily. “What about you? What ever happened to you and Serenity?” They’d dated for two years and had seemed close to making it permanent, and then nothing.
Rory’s movements didn’t slow, but a light tension poured from him. “We had a misunderstanding, and I’ve given her until after Christmas—maybe until New Year’s—to deal with it.”
I twirled the beer bottle in my hands. “Then what?”
“Then I’m dealing with it,” he said, his smile one of danger.
Interesting. “Well, if you need a lawyer, which it sounds like you might, give me a call.”
“Legal counsel is the last thing either of us will need when I’m finished,” he said smoothly.
I didn’t want to know more than that. “Any word on who killed Santa?” Perhaps he had his ear to the ground working at Dunphey’s.
He poured tequila into a glass and tipped it back like it was water. “Rumor has it the ex-wife inherited a shitload of money, and considering she was seen canoodling with her ex at the Elk’s Christmas party last weekend, things aren’t looking good for drunk-ass Santa over there.” He eyed the bottle like he wanted another drink.
I paused. That was good gossip and yet another thing Bernie hadn’t told me about. I slid off the stool. It was after midnight and had been a long day. Awaytoo long of a day. “I should probably take my client somewhere…else.”
Rory reached under the bar again and handed over a buck knife. “Took this off him earlier before he could lose one of his fingers. He’s not armed otherwise.”
I slipped the knife into my bag. “Thanks.”
“Yep.”
The door opened, and Hoyt Forrest stomped inside, scattering snow. Two friends flanked him, and his gaze searched the entire bar, landing on Bernie.
I sighed.
Rory planted one hand on the bar and bounded gracefully over, landing sure-footed by my side. “Guns at waist and left leg,” he said beneath his breath.
I set my stance. “Someday you’re gonna have to tell me what you really do for a living,” I muttered.
“Huh,” he returned, already moving for the men. “Take your weapons back out to your rigs.” Without breaking eye contact, he nodded to the sign by the door. “No weapons in Dunphey’s. You gents know that.”
Hoyt measured Rory, apparently decided to use his brain, and exited as quickly as he’d arrived.
Rory lazily returned to the bar, leaning back on his elbows against it, right next to me. Waiting.
Hoyt returned with his buddies—sans the weapons this time. The buddies moved for the bar and Hoyt moved for Bernie.
I stepped forward.
“Want me to handle it?” Rory asked casually.
“No.” I wanted to sit both men down and figure this out. “I’ve got it.”
Rory, as my cousin, was just as overprotective as the rest of them. Having been kidnapped as a child had somehow set me up with a vulnerability that my family couldn’t let go of—or maybe the vulnerability was theirs. Either way, he cleared his throat. “Hoyt? Anna is going to sit with you and Bernie over there. Don’t make me kill you.” He jumped back over the bar and thus missed Hoyt’s faltering and big swallow. Like big enough that his entire Adam’s apple moved wildly.
I’d never considered Rory all that scary, but I guess he’d never threatened to kill me, either. He sounded legit. “You know Hoyt?”
