Logan J. Kilkorn had a son about Asa’s age—maybe a little younger and who was going through a divorce. One thing Asa knew was that men loved to talk about themselves and complain about their exes. It was easy enough to find out his favorite watering hole—the Chevy Chase Inn, one of the oldest dive bars in Lexington.
Asa strolled in wearing tight black jeans and a silver top displaying ample cleavage with her brunette hair cascading softly over her shoulders. She seated herself at the bar and ordered a white wine spritzer, surveying the patrons while draping her bag over the back of the bar stool. Needless to say, heads turned.
A middle-aged, balding man ambled over to her. “May I buy you a drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m waiting for my husband.”
“Oh.”
“No really, thank you. It was nice of you to ask.”
The man leaned against the bar. His hands looked sweaty. “Well, maybe I should keep you company until he gets here.”
Asa smiled. “I don’t think you want to do that. My husband’s a cop.”
“Oh.”
“See you around.” Asa got up and sat in a booth, nursing her drink. After forty-five minutes, Micah Kilkorn walked in and sat at the bar, ordering a vodka and cranberry juice. Asa was relieved Micah was somewhat nice-looking and didn’t have a potbelly flopping over his belt. He was wearing high-quality clothes and had recently shaved. She caught a whiff of his aftershave lotion. Sizing Kilkorn up, Asa noticed he still had his boyish looks although she detected a little weakening under the chin. She thought Micah was awfully young for that, but maybe he drank too much.
She got up and put some coins in the jukebox, making sure she was noticed. Micah didn’t follow her with his eyes like most of the men in the bar did, but she was sure he saw her. She went over to the bar and stood next to him, looking at his drink. “What are you drinking?”
“Vodka and cranberry juice,” he replied.
“No bourbon?”
“Don’t like bourbon,” Micah answered.
Asa thumbed at his drink to the bartender and said, “I’ll have what he’s having.”
The bartender answered, “Sure thing.”
“Nice night, isn’t it?” Asa inquired of Micah.
Micah looked at Asa squarely and said, “Are you trying to pick me up?”
“Is it working?”
“It might. Want to tell me your name?”
“Billy with a y,” Asa lied.
“Billy with a y? That’s how boys spell it.”
“It’s my name.”
“Are you a boy?”
Asa leaned over a bit showing off more of her cleavage. “Do I look like a boy?”
“Just checking.”
“What’s your name?”
“Micah.”
Asa extended her right hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Micah.”
Micah shook her hand. “Is there a last name after Billy?”
Asa teased, “Aren’t you forward? You haven’t even bought me dinner yet and here you are asking personal questions like that.”
Micah motioned to the bartender and asked, “Is the kitchen still open?”
“They’re cleaning up now, but I’m sure the chili is still hot.”
Micah turned to Asa. “You like chili?”
Asa requested, “Can I get some hot sauce and crackers with it?”
The bartender replied, “You bet. Micah?”
“I’ll have what the lady’s having and put it on my tab, Sid.”
Asa picked up the vodka and cranberry drink placed before her, hopping off her stool. “Want to sit at a booth? We’ll be more comfortable.”
“Sure.”
They turned around but saw all the booths were taken. Asa grinned and slid back onto the bar stool. “I guess we’re laying claim to this piece of real estate.”
Micah scooted his bar stool closer to Asa. “Are you new in town? I haven’t seen you before.”
“I came back to visit my mother. She’s been having health problems.”
“Sorry to hear that. Do you always go to bars without your husband?”
Asa pointed to her empty ring finger. “What is this? Twenty questions?”
“Sorry.”
“You apologize a lot.”
“Sorry.” Micah grinned sheepishly.
Asa flipped her hair back. “I’ll tell you. I used to come to this bar a lot when I was in college.”
“You went to school at UK?”
Asa nodded and lied, “Yep.”
“I went to school here, too. What was your major?”
“There you go again. Being personal. Just be friendly, Micah, if that is your real name.”
The bartender brought two large bowls of chili with all the fixings—extra onions, cheese, and sour cream.
Micah thumbed at the bartender. “Sid, tell this lovely lady my name.”
Sid answered, “He’s Micah Kilkorn. Do you need anything else, folks?”
“No, we’re fine. Thank you,” Asa said, pouring hot sauce on her chili.
Micah said, “Hey, watch that hot sauce. How am I gonna kiss you with your mouth on fire?”
“First of all, who says I’ll allow you to kiss me, and what’s wrong with being on fire?”
“You are one beautiful dangerous lady,” Micah said, his eyes glittering.
“You have no idea,” Asa replied, blowing him a kiss. “Come on, now. Let’s eat this chili. It smells divine.”
“Sure. We’ll both have bad breath then.” Micah crumbled crackers in his chili. “What do you do, Billy with a y?”
“I appraise art for insurance companies.”
“Oh, really. That must be interesting.”
“I like it. What do you do?”
“I’m in the equine business.”
“Who isn’t in the Bluegrass,” Asa replied.
“My family owns a horse farm.”
“Sure, they do.”
“No, really. We do.”
“Then you must be a trust fund baby.”
Micah bristled a bit. “My family is well-off, but I work just like every other Joe.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Micah relented. “How can I be angry with such a beautiful woman?”
“Do you live on the farm in a big antebellum home like Tara in Gone with the Wind?”
“There you go again. Being snotty. What have you got against rich people?”
Asa giggled. “Only that I’m not one of them.”
Micah smirked. “If you must know I live in the pool house behind my parents’ home, and yes, it’s a big antebellum house with the Corinthian columns and wide porticos.”
“Okay. I’ll back off. Let’s eat and talk about more pleasant things.”
“I’m fine with that.”
Nodding, Asa plowed into her food. She was really hungry and ate the chili with gusto.
Micah dropped a paper napkin and bent over in his chair to retrieve it.
Asa took advantage of this distraction to put a few drops into Micah’s chili from a little vial she had hidden in her cleavage. “Here, Micah, use a clean napkin. Don’t use that one. It’s touched the floor.” She pulled several from the napkin dispenser on the bar.
“Thanks,” he said, wiping his mouth with a fresh napkin. He took several more bites of the chili.
They chitchatted for several minutes until Micah winced.
Asa asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I suddenly feel nauseous and light-headed.”
“You don’t look so well. You’re sweating and your color is off.” Asa motioned to the bartender.
“Maybe I have food poisoning?” Micah clutched his stomach in pain.
“I think I should take you to the hospital,” Asa said.
“No. NO! I just need to get home.”
The bartended strode over. “Micah. You don’t look so good. What’s going on?”
“I think I have food poisoning,” Micah complained.
Asa reiterated, “I had the same chili and I feel fine. I think you really need to see a doctor.”
“I just want to go home. No doctors.” Micah grimaced again in obvious pain.
Asa asked the bartender, “Where does he live?”
“On a horse farm out Parkers Mill Road. You can’t miss it. Big metal gate with the initials LK.”
“Okay, I’ll take him home.”
“That might be best. I’ll call his home and let them know he’s coming.”
Micah reached up and tugged on Sid’s arm. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want my old man to know I’m under the weather. Okay?”
“I think I should call your old man, Micah,” Sid said.
“No, please. This would give him one more reason to call me an idiot. He’s always on my case.”
“Sure, Micah. Anything you say.”
Asa took note about Micah and his father. “Can you help me get him into his car?” Asa asked, grabbing her bag.
Sid reached into the booth, pulling Micah up and helping him to his car. Before Sid slid Micah in the passenger seat, Asa rooted through his pockets and retrieved the 1962 Alpha Romeo Spider blue convertible’s keys. He didn’t notice Asa putting on a pair of black leather gloves.
“Thanks, Sid,” Asa said getting in the driver’s seat of the sports car after putting her bag in the trunk. “I’ll make sure I get him home.”
At that moment, Micah leaned over and vomited on the pavement. Disgusted, Sid gladly shut Micah’s door. “Good luck, lady,” he said, before walking away.
Asa turned on the convertible and pulled out of the parking lot as Micah slid down in his seat, groaning. She patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Micah. It will be all over in a few hours. You’ll be good as new.”
It wasn’t long before Asa was racing down a winding country lane toward Parkers Mill Road.