chapter 14

The front door is open to the evening air, spilling the mouthwatering scent of fried food and beer into the lot. I bypass a large group standing around just inside the doors, all of them with glasses in hand, then weave through a sea of high top tables to get to the bar.

The bar’s magnificent—dark, heavy wood that’s as aged as a fine wine. The same rich wood lines the wall behind the bar, planks intersected by mirrors and shelves holding rows and rows of liquor. It gives the whole area a kind of rustic, pirate ship feel.

I’m not even seated on one of the high-backed stools before the bartender comes to greet me. He’s a tall, lanky man with limbs that seem too stretched for his body and a head full of thick gray hair. His name tag declares him “Joe.” The owner, maybe.

He tosses a white rag over his shoulder and gives me a lopsided smile that seems more genuine than I’m used to. “You look like a whiskey girl.”

Just the word whiskey sends fury racing through me.

It’s an immediate, viscer