Maybe his wife divorced him recently and he just wanted some companionship. Waddling his bulk around the bar, the newcomer chose a stool two places from Crystal. She rolled her eyes, but not so the man could see.
Ben put down a cocktail napkin and guessed the man would order scotch and soda with a twist.
“Bourbon, neat," he said. No smile. No eye contact.
Ben nodded and took a step down the bar to make the drink. Wrong again. Good that he didn't bet or he'd lose most of his paycheck. Setting the drink in front of guy, he decided the bourbon drinker was a cop. “Four fifty."
The money appeared with a meager tip and Ben went back to his paper. The customer didn't want to be disturbed. Once again, no eye contact. No smile.
When a voice broke the silence, Ben looked up.
“Hey, Red," the ne
