Chapter 7

3558 Words
The Barb Goffman Presents series showcases the best in modern mystery and crime stories, The Barb Goffman Presents series showcases the best in modern mystery and crime stories,personally selected by one of the most acclaimed personally selected by one of the most acclaimedshort stories authors and editors in the mystery short stories authors and editors in the mysteryfield, Barb Goffman, for Black Cat Weekly. field, Barb Goffman, for . byStew Davis almost sobbed when he crested the hill and spotted the Last Chance Saloon down below. The gray wood building looked about ready to fall over. Tumbleweeds, for God’s sake, were piled against one side. The hill behind the building shimmered in the heat like a moonscape. But at least a neon “Beer Here” sign was blinking, albeit sporadically, in the window. The blinking reminded him of the fiancée he’d dumped this morning. She had blinked just like that every damn time she put her contacts in. Stew stopped and emptied a rock from his shoe. He’d been walking this road for the past four hours. Except it wasn’t much of a road—barely more than a cow trail. Getting lost in Wyoming this morning and having his beloved 1966 Mustang stolen with all his belongings was just the effing froth on the beer of his life. Stew still couldn’t believe it. He’d been out of his car maybe two minutes. On a deserted road—granted it was one with a lot of weird rock formations. Stew was relieving himself behind a boulder because God knows there wasn’t a bathroom or sign of civilization anywhere around. Next thing he knew, his car was roaring off. How was that possible when he hadn’t seen another car or person for miles? His Italian shoes had rubbed a blister over a mile ago. His designer suit and silk tie were coated in a fine dust that wouldn’t brush off. And the wind blew with a fury. Dark clouds hung on the horizon. Stew trotted forward, twisted his ankle in a rut, and cursed. Patience, buddy, he told himself. In a couple minutes he’d be in the saloon, calling for help, and drinking a cold one. Last chance my a*s. He had dumped the old ball and chain and would start a new life in Nevada, once he finally got there. This would be a first chance for Stew. Patience, buddyLast chance my ass The air conditioner hiccuped like it always did when someone came into the Last Chance Saloon. The regulars turned to squint into the late afternoon sun to see who had broken their peace. Lily lifted her head from her worn paperback, pages yellowed, spine cracked. It didn’t take long to know this guy didn’t belong here. He wore a suit instead of old jeans. His fancy shoes were covered with dust, but his hair was as pretty and shiny as an ad in a grocery-store magazine. Tousled, just like you saw on movie stars. “Help you?” Lily asked after he approached the bar. “Someone stole my car. And I’m lost.” His smile lit his cheekbones, ones that looked like God himself had hewn them. A man who could smile during adversity. Now that was something. A man who could smile during adversity. Now that was something.“You gotta be lost if you ended up here.” Lily smiled back. It had been a while since someone had made her smile. “I’m Stew. Stew Davis.” He held out his hand to shake. “I need to call the police to report my car.” Lily took his hand, warm and soft against her dry, rough one. He seemed to hold it a second longer than necessary, sending tingles around parts of her that hadn’t had a lot to tingle about lately. “I’m Lily. And it’d be the sheriff out here. Not the police. I’ll call for you.” Lily walked over to the wall phone, putting a little more sway in her hips than normal. It had been a long time since a stranger had shown up—and a handsome one at that. She winked at old Luke as she swished by. Luke looked cockeyed at the stranger, ignoring Lily completely. Locals didn’t take to strangers here. Especially the regulars. Lily would have to be on her guard. She didn’t want any trouble. Lily dialed the number she knew by heart, talked for a moment, and went back over to Stew. “Might as well make yourself comfortable. Harry’s on the other side of the county. It’ll be a couple of hours before he gets back.” “Is there anyone else you can call?” Stew asked. A snort came from the back corner of the room. Belle. Lily hoped she would behave herself. Belle was already three shots of whiskey in, and even on her best day wasn’t one to hold her tongue. “Sorry,” Lily said. “There’s a reason this place is called Last Chance. He’ll make sure everyone is keeping an eye out for your car though.” She smiled at him again. Glad she’d washed her hair and left it loose, tumbling around her shoulders. She’d even put on a pair of clean shorts and a tank top that showed a little more cleavage than normal. Almost like fate had told her something special was going to happen to her today and she’d better be prepared. “Can I get you something?” She watched Stew check himself out in the mirror behind the bar. He ran a hand through his hair, and he brushed at the lapels of his suit coat. His shoulders went slack as he sat on the round barstool. “Sure. A beer. Something local if you have it.” Lily opened the cooler, grateful she’d picked up some local beers last time she’d driven to Laramie. The bottle cooled her hand and made a satisfying whoosh when she opened it. She tipped a glass and poured the beer smoothly so only a skiff of foam sat on the top of the glass. Lily placed it in front of Stew. When he reached for it she noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Didn’t even have a white mark or indentation showing he’d worn one recently. Lily opened a Coke for herself and drank it straight out of the icy bottle. whoosh“How’d you end up this far from the highway?” she asked. “I get tired of highways. I like the back roads. But this may be a little too back road even for me.” Lily laughed. “I hear you.” “But you stay anyway?” he asked. “Family. They need me. I’m their last chance.” She winked before moving off to check on the others. Gave them all warning looks. Don’t be rude to the stranger. Maybe if they were friendlier more people would come in. And then Lily wouldn’t be so lonely. An hour later, when Stew went to the bathroom, Belle raced up to the bar. “Who is he?” She tossed her red curls back with a practiced motion. Belle was a couple of years younger than Lily and had rodeo-queen looks. Hell, she’d been the rodeo queen and never let Lily forget it. “Leave him alone,” Lily said. “You owe me.” It was amazing she could stand having Belle in here, what with Belle having stolen the very first boyfriend she’d ever had. But Lily was a forgiving sort. And, with a little distance, she had realized she could never have lived with a man who was so deadly earnest. She shook her head, thinking about the way he had talked about love, yammering about how it was all about sacrifice and compromise. That boy could suck the fun out of any situation. But that hadn’t made it right for Belle to steal him away before Lily had had the satisfaction of breaking up with him. “Come on. It’s always cowboys and old men in here. It’s been a long time since someone swept me off my feet.” Belle gave Lily the sad look she’d always used. But Lily had become immune to it. “Not this time,” she said. The bathroom door rattled open. Lily shooed Belle away. The rodeo queen slunk back to her seat, tossing a come-hither look over her shoulder at Stew. Lily was pleased—more than pleased, she was downright excited—that Stew ignored the look, then settled back on the stool in front of her. Time for the charm offensive to start. “What are you doing in Wyoming anyway?” Maybe he was moving to the area. But he really didn’t look the part. No matter. It might just be time to shut this place down, ride off with a handsome man. “It’s a sad tale,” Stew said with a half-grin. Lily opened another beer for him and refilled his glass. “I’m used to hearing sad tales. Goes with the territory when you own a bar.” She c****d her head to one side. “Go on.” “My mom’s not doing so well, so I’m heading to Nevada to take care of her.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” Her heart fluttered a little as she thought about finding a man who cared about his mother. “And I had to dump my fiancée this morning. It’s been a hell of a day.” So he was a free man. Although using the word “dump” was a bit disconcerting. On the other hand, it didn’t sound like he was nursing a broken heart. She’d mopped up enough of those with other men, foolishly hoping for the beginning of something but winding up with just a night or two on the rebound. “Breaking up is hard to do.” Lily thought of the song Belle loved to play on the rare days the jukebox worked. Another dig at Lily. “Tell me about it. But dumping her was for the best. She was a total shrew.” Lily stiffened. She’d been called that once. But maybe his fiancée really was a shrew. Lily needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he loved his momma. “How so?” Stew took a long drink of his beer. Lily watched his Adam’s apple bob, checked out the slight stubble of his beard, and flushed with embarrassment when Stew noticed her looking. “Lily, have you ever tried to be the best partner you could be but it just didn’t work out?” “Sounds like every damn relationship I ever had.” She leaned forward a little to give him a shot of her cleavage. He took a quick glance and looked away. Lily relaxed. He’d passed another test. Stew was a gentleman. “I guess we have that in common.” “I love too much. Give too much.” Stew shook his head sadly. “And then they don’t appreciate it.” Lily knew how he felt. “Exactly. The nagging starts. The questions if I stay out too late or don’t come home at all one night.” Stew took another long drink. “A man needs respect.” Lily grabbed a towel and wiped at a spot on the bar so he wouldn’t notice her agitation. She looked around. All the regulars were openly watching them now. “But surely a woman has the right to ask a question if her man stays out all night.” She was throwing him a lifeline. Lily always did. “Does she, Lily? Shouldn’t she trust me? Let me be the head of the family? Make the decisions?” A couple of the regulars got up and left. Chickens. They were afraid of a woman who asserted herself. Belle stayed though. Lily knew she had always enjoyed a good show. Chickens.“How much longer till the sheriff gets here?” Stew asked. “Let me give him another call.” Lily dialed the phone and talked, then sauntered back over to Stew. “Bad news. They have a hostage situation over on the other side of the county. Every resource they have is there.” “Damn it.” “Worried about your mom?” Really, maybe his love for his mom was redemption enough. “No, that’s not it. I’ve got a couple of days to get out there and stick her in a home. Then I’ll make my fortune at roulette. My luck is changing, Lily. I can feel it.” A home? Lily had taken good care of her mother. Wiped her brow. Spoon-fed her when she grew too weak to feed herself. That’s how you ought to treat your loved ones. But not everyone was cut out to be a caretaker. her“I wanted to get to a pawn shop in Rock Springs to cash in this ring.” He pulled a dark velvet box out of his pocket and flipped it open. Lily almost gasped. The ring was least two carats, as sparkly as the sun on raindrops. “You didn’t let her keep it?” Another regular got up and left. Lily glanced at Belle. Even she was starting to look pissed. Belle getting mad at a good-looking man was a rare thing. But Lily was starting to think he wasn’t that good looking after all. His eyes were a little narrow and his forehead a bit broad. His recently dumped fiancée was probably better off without him. “Why would I?” he asked. Thunder rumbled, shaking the building. Lily smiled. “Why indeed?” By the time Stew finished his fourth beer, he was obviously feeling no pain. “It gets a little boring around here,” Lily said. “I’ve got a shooting range out back. Want to give it a try? Or are you one of those city boys who’s afraid of guns.” The boyfriend with the earnest eyes had taught Lily to shoot. All his love nonsense had eventually turned to bickering. But Lily would always be grateful to him because he’d taken her to the g*n range, where she’d realized she had a gift for shooting. “I’m not afraid of guns,” he said. “It’s been a while, but let’s go shoot.” Lily opened the bar the next morning. The regulars drifted in. Stew came too. He looked a little worse for wear. But then they always did. The sheriff had yet to show up. Lily expected him to come soon though. Him or one of his deputies. Someone always came by to check on her after a storm like they’d had last night. She wasn’t sure if they’d be happier if they found her safe or if the building had washed away. Deputy Sheriff Tom Jerkins bumped down the road to check on Lily. He worried about her being out here all alone. Last night there’d been one hell of a storm, with flooding from Cheyenne west to beyond Laramie. Tom came over the rise to see the building still standing. Barely. But then that had described the building for years, according to his parents. A neon sign winked at him. “Bee Her.” A couple of the letters had burned out since the last time Tom had been out this way. He parked, hitched up his belt, and opened the door to the bar. Once inside, he had to wait a minute until his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Cobwebs hung from every corner. Dust lay thick on the tables. He really hated coming in here. But at least the bar was polished and clean. The lights that dangled from strings above it reflected in its scarred surface. “Lily?” A door swung open, and she came out. Good lord, she’s wearing a tank top and Daisy Duke shorts. The skin on her arms sagged in an alarming number of wrinkles. Age spots marred her face. The altitude and sun were unforgiving friends in Wyoming. Tom would reapply sunscreen when he got back in his patrol car. Lily had dyed her thin hair a bright shade of blond. It clumped around her shoulders. She looked like one of the creatures at the haunted house in Laramie that he’d taken his ex-girlfriend Molly to last fall. Not very charitable, he told himself. She’s just an old woman. Good lord, she’s wearing a tank top and Daisy Duke shorts.Not very charitableShe’s just an old woman.“Hey, Lily. Thought I’d check on you after the storm last night.” Lily batted her eyelashes at him, at least what was left of them. Tom repressed a shudder. “Why, that is so sweet of you,” she said. “That storm was something. Want a beer?” “Nice of you, but I’m on duty.” “A Coke then?” She gestured toward an old Coke cooler that clunked and choked and sputtered. “Sure.” Lily got two Cokes out, opened them, and passed one over. She wore a large diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. Was she engaged? That didn’t seem possible. Tom leaned on the bar. The stools looked so rickety, he didn’t trust them to sit on. “You seen any strays out here?” he asked. “The sheriff found a ’66 Mustang smashed up over in the Vedauwoo recreation area near the campground. There’s no sign of the owner. Registration says it belongs to a guy named Stew Davis.” “You don’t say. Haven’t seen anyone. Just me and the regulars.” Tom wondered who the hell the regulars were. It was like a ghost town in here. “How’s that sweet girlfriend of yours?” Lily asked. “What was her name again? Mary?” “Molly.” Tom took a long pull on the icy bottle of Coke. “We broke up a few days ago.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Getting dumped is never easy.” “I was the dumper not the dumpee.” “How come?” Lily asked. She’d known Tom a long time. His parents too. He put his life on the line every day for the folks who lived in this county. Well, more often than not he probably wasn’t in any danger, but you never knew. Maybe that was enough for redemption. Everyone deserved a last chance—until it was lost. She looked around at the regulars. Stew glared at her from a table in the back near Belle. “So you didn’t call the sheriff yesterday,” Stew said. Belle had tried flirting earlier, but Stew took no notice. He was a changed man. didn’tLily gave him a quick shrug as a reply. She didn’t want to answer him out loud, lest Tom think she was odd. She wasn’t. Lily could just see and hear folks other people couldn’t. Ghosts. The regulars. Each one of them had a bullet hole through the forehead and another through the chest. Some might disapprove, but Lily had a heightened sense of right and wrong. She wasn’t afraid to set things right. That’s why folks in town thought the boy with the earnest eyes and Belle had run off together. Lily might have helped that myth along when she “found” a note she told everyone Belle had written. She’d given every last one of them a chance for redemption. Even her sister Belle. Tom set down his Coke. “She told me she wanted to get married. I’m not ready to settle down.” That didn’t sound so bad. Tom couldn’t be much over twenty-five. Young for settling down. “Well, that’s a shame.” Tom looked down for a moment. “Not really. I met someone else a few weeks ago. She had car trouble out on I-Eighty. We hit it off. I’d been working up the courage to end things with Molly. Trust me, dating two women at the same time isn’t as fun as people make it sound.” Well, that was a shame too. He should have had the courage to end the relationship right away instead of leading poor Molly on. “Have time for a little shooting at the g*n range out behind the bar before you head out?” Lily asked Tom. “Sure,” Tom said. “I’ve got time.” “Run,” Stew shouted. “Run!” He waved his arms frantically, but they didn’t even stir the air. Lily looked at him and then Tom. She smiled. Last chance lost. Sherry Harris is the Agatha Award-nominated author of the Sarah Winston Garage Sale mystery series and the Chloe Jackson Sea Glass Saloon mysteries. Sherry is a past president of Sisters in Crime and a member of the Chesapeake Chapter of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America. Sherry loves books, beaches, bars, and bargain hunting—not necessarily in that order. You can find Sherry at https://sherryharrisauthor.com/.
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