“Wow, that was fast.”
“Ang said they’ve been trackin’ searches on me and whatnot. I don’t know how all that works. They liked the timin’, with all the press. Decided jumpin’ on the wave was more important than pre-release publicity.”
They walked in silence for a while, crossing the narrow bridge over the river. There was barely space for a vehicle and a pedestrian to cross together, and if the vehicle was a truck, forget about it. No traffic just then, though. It was a quiet night, not too warm, not too muggy, with crickets singing up a storm and the shallow river rushing below.
She said, “I was thinking Fourth of July weekend for the grand opening,” she said after a while.
“That’s only eight weeks, though.”
“Biggest holiday in the window,” she said.
A car passed so close he could feel the engine’s heat and the rush of displaced air. “You think we can be ready?” he asked.
“Hell, yes, I think we can be ready. If you can get us some acts.”
“It’s short notice. People will be booked.”
“Then get some local bands and perform yourself.”
Music came spilling from a slab-sided building that didn’t look like much more than a lean-to. Neon beer signs hung in the two front windows. Parking was in back.
They headed up to the entrance, through a set of batwing doors, and into the din. The place smelled like beer and sounded like a good band with bad amps. Ethan caught cigarette smoke and a whiff of something stronger. He put his arm around Lily’s shoulders, because he had an excuse, as they wound through the barroom. It wasn’t packed, but there was a decent crowd.
When they reached the bar, he held up a hand and the barkeep saw it easily. One of the benefits of being as big as he was. He held up two fingers and pointed to the taps.
The barkeep nodded, reached for beer mugs, filled them up, and slid them along the hardwood. Ethan handed one to Lily, then replaced his arm around her, and guided her back away from the bar and through the crowd of locals.
“Table!” Lily said, pointing to where two people were rising, pulling on their jackets, and picking up their possessions. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward it, stopping short to give the occupants room to exit. Then she pounced, putting her beer on the table and sliding into the chair.
“You’re good at that.”
“I’ve got some experience,” she said.
That made him look at her quickly. “Have you, now?”
“Yep.”
“Date a lot, do you?”
“Every chance I get,” she said. “I know what I want, and I’m not gettin’ any younger.”
He was supposed to ask her what she wanted, but he wasn’t walking into that minefield. Time to change the topic. “I assume you had a good reason for stopping me from mentioning our squatter’s car? Or what we think is our squatter’s car?”
“I did,” she said. “There was brown paint on the dead crook’s fancy Caddy.”
He frowned. “Brown paint,” he repeated.
“The driver said it was from a fender bender earlier in the week, but it would be a heckuva coincidence. And nobody’s seen him since.”
“So you think our squatter…what, committed vehicular homicide?”
“Well, that would be a leap.” She shrugged. “But I do think we oughtta find out before we give up that piece of information.”
“Even to Willow? She’s family.”
“But it’s Gringo Sombrero! He’s never caused anybody any trouble. He just sits there and minds his own business. He helped my brother when Maria’s ex beat him bloody. He helped me, when Manny had his heart attack. And we don’t know the guy even did anything. Shouldn’t we at least make sure before we go pointing the police his way?”
“That’s what the sheriff’s department is for, Lil.”
