Page 25 of Sting

Font Size:

Page 25 of Sting

Joe’s heart skipped.

Hick stopped pecking on his iPad screen and raised his head.

Joe cleared his throat. “You sure?”

“About the scar? Yeah,” the bartender replied. “I noticed because it cut through his scruff. Oh, does that count as facial hair? He’d gone two, maybe three days without shaving.”

“Describe the scar.”

“Well, as I was facing him, it was…” He used Joe’s chin as a means of remembering correctly. “On the left side. Sort of curved, like the letter C, only backward,” he said, drawing one in the air inches from Joe’s face.

Without taking his eyes off the bartender, Joe asked Hick, “Got a picture handy?”

Joe’s heart had resumed beating and now thudded with dread as Hick went through the necessary steps to open his photos file. He brought up a mug shot, zoomed it into a close-up, and turned the screen toward the bartender, who happily exclaimed, “That’s the guy. No question.” Then, gauging their expressions, his white smile wavered. “Not good?”

Joe turned away and reached for his cell phone, saying to Hick over his shoulder, “I gotta alert the office.”

Hick was left to answer the bartender’s question. “No. Not good. Especially for Jordie Bennett.”

Chapter 7

Well?” Shaw demanded.

“What is that?”

Holding the scrap of food wrapper by both ends directly in front of Jordie Bennett’s face, he stretched it taut so she could better see what had been scrawled on it. “A phone number. Local area code.”

“That was in my pocket?” She looked from the strip of paper into his eyes. “I don’t know anything about it.”

He unsnapped the breast pocket of his shirt and stuffed the paper inside. “Right. And the jerk in the bar was also a total stranger.”

“He was.”

“You didn’t cry foul when this stranger started rubbing your ass.”

“I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“You made a scene when you walked into that place.”

“I told him to take his hand off me or else. I didn’t know he was slipping something into my pocket.”

“Convenient, that he had the number already written down. Like he knew you’d be there and planned on sneaking it to you.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know anything about it.”

“Next you’ll be telling me that you’re a regular customer, that you go there every night for your glass of white wine.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he tilted his head. “Well? Had you ever darkened the door of that place before tonight? Had you ever even driven past it?”

She said nothing.

“Thought so.” He closed his hand around her elbow and nudged her forward. “But you went there tonight and let that jackass fondle you.”

“Exactly. He was a jackass. Why would I want his phone number?”

He drew up short and faced her. “I never said it was his.”

Her breath caught. They stared at each other for a ponderous few moments, then she blinked several times and said, “Who else’s would it be?”

He leaned in and whispered, “You tell me, Jordie.”


Articles you may like