Lee Barnett was the first person Issie saw when she walked into Joe’s Place that night. She told herself that she hadn’t gone there to see him, that she just wanted a drink to unwind after the funeral, but that didn’t explain the elation she felt when he spotted her and patted the empty stool next to him. She felt like the high school cheerleader who had a crush on the town’s bad boy.
As she took the stool, he ordered her a glass of wine, the same brand she’d been drinking the other night. “How’s it going there?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said, trying to seem nonchalant about seeing him.
He grinned. “Don’t pretend you’re not glad to see me. You know you are. I could see it in your face when you came in.”
Something about that bold appraisal charmed her. “You’re pretty confident for somebody in a lot of trouble.”
“I’m not in trouble,” he said. “Haven’t you heard? I met with Celia’s husband. Convinced him I’m a Boy Scout. ’Cause I am, you know.”
She smiled. “Yep. That was my first thought about you. A real Boy Scout. Especially the other night when my preacher had to rescue me from you.”
“Another few minutes, and I’m the one would’ve needed rescuing,” he said.
She started to tell him he had a lot of gall, but she hadn’t exactly been fighting him off. Besides, she liked gall in a man.
She sipped on the wine Joe put in front of her, and decided to change the subject. “So did you hear about Aggie Gaston?”
“Who?”
“Celia’s aunt. She died. She was buried today.”
“Arsenic poisoning?” Lee asked.
Issie frowned and shook her head. “No, she had a heart attack.”
Lee nodded. “Good.”
“Good?”
“I mean, I’m glad it’s not arsenic. There’s a little too much of that going around, if you know what I mean.”
Issie supposed he was right.
Across the crowd of people, R.J. sat at the back table pretending to read the paper. He knew he wasn’t fooling anybody. Lee Barnett had seen him come in, and he knew he was being watched. Still, he kept up the pretense, if not for Barnett, then for everyone else in the room. His cellular phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his hip pocket. “Albright.”
“Where are you?” It was Sid’s voice.
“Joe’s Place.”
“Albright, are you drinkin’ on the job?”
“No,” he said, shoving the empty beer bottle across the table as if Sid could see through the phone.
“Where’s Barnett?” Sid asked.
“Right here. Got my eye on him. Thing is, he knows I’m watching him.”
“Well, that’s a big help.”
R.J. bristled at the sarcastic tone, as if he didn’t have enough police savvy to do the right thing. “I was just fixin’ to leave,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me how to do my job, Sid. I think I can handle it.”
He clicked off the phone and dropped it back in his pocket, then left the paper on the table and got up to leave. Barnett, who was bantering flirtatiously with Issie Mattreaux, winked at him as he left. R.J. felt like throttling him. He didn’t like being taunted, even silently. He went out across the street and headed to his car parked in the police parking lot. He could see the front door from there. With the aid of his binoculars, he could watch Barnett come out, then follow him to wherever he went. Fun detail, he thought sarcastically. It was going to be a long night.
Two hours later, Lee Barnett had had too much to drink. Once again, he’d passed his limit, and he knew it. But he was doing so well with Issie Mattreaux. The knockout brunette was laughing and flirting, and he knew that he had a much better chance of getting her to go home with him tonight than he’d had the time before, and he’d been really close then.
He leaned into her, too close, he knew, but she allowed it. He reached out and stroked her arm.
“Hands off,” she said in a teasing voice. “I’m not into public displays of affection. The town’s already buzzing about Issie spending time with Celia’s ex-con.”
“How about private displays?” he asked against her ear.
She didn’t say no, so he took that as a yes.
“Come on, Issie. Who are you kidding? You know you want to go home with me.”
“You’re awfully cocky for somebody who’d let a preacher knock him down.”
She was still teasing, but he was less amused. “Hey, I can take on the preacher.”
“Yeah, if you’re not drunk, maybe.”
“I ain’t drunk,” he argued, sliding one hand under her hair to cup the back of her neck. “I’m in love.”
She laughed then. “In love? Is that what you call it?” She took his wrist and removed his hand.
He grinned. “If you don’t want me touchin’ you in public, then let’s go someplace private. I’m gettin’ tired of these games.”
“I’m thinking about it,” she said.
He put his heavy arm around her and pulled her too roughly against him. He knew instantly it was a mistake because she fell off her stool with a clatter. Quickly, he helped her right herself and she got back on the stool. The look on her face had changed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking her back. “I didn’t mean—”
“I think she told you to let her go.”
The voice of the man sitting next to Issie thundered over his own voice, and Barnett didn’t like it.
“Stay out of this, pal. This is between me and the lady.”
“You ain’t treatin’ her like much of a lady,” the guy said.
Issie looked over her shoulder and tried to calm the guy down. “It’s okay, Billy, I can handle it.”
“Yeah, she can handle it, Billy,” Barnett said, jerking her against him again to make his point.
Billy dove from his stool, and his fist came across Lee’s jaw, knocking him back against a table. The people around it stood up, and a woman screamed.
Humiliated, Barnett got to his feet and lurched for the guy. But Billy was ready for him, and they wound up on the floor, wrestling like children. Barnett found himself with his thumbs against the guy’s throat, and it brought back a memory. A memory of something that had landed him in prison for five years. Quickly, he let go of his neck.
He hadn’t realized how long he’d been struggling with the man until the door burst open and the cop who’d been there earlier came in. He broke up the fight and pulled Lee to his feet. “You’re under arrest, Barnett,” he said. “You have the right to remain silent…”
“No, man!” Lee said. “I ain’t goin’ back to prison. Man, I served my time. I didn’t do nothin’. I was sittin’ here mindin’ my own business.”
“Save it for somebody who’s interested,” the cop said and dragged him out of the establishment in handcuffs.
As the cop half-dragged him across the street to the jail, Lee thought how ironic all this was. He couldn’t believe it. It was just too stupid to be true. He was too stupid to be true.
After they’d booked him and thrown him in the jail cell, he stood nodding his head. Yep. He deserved to be exactly where he was. He kicked the cot, almost breaking his foot, then hopped around cursing venomously until the others in the jail began cursing back at him.