Three weeks later
Roy was still careful when he came on shift at four each afternoon. He made sure the back door was locked and checked to be sure no one was hiding in the restrooms. Sometimes he felt a little foolish to be so paranoid, but better to be cautious than dead.
Sunday afternoons were pretty slow. Someone had to be there, but he didn’t need a cocktail waitress or a second bartender like Friday and Saturday often demanded. Keeping half an eye on the two men at the bar and the couple at one of the small tables, he also watched the baseball game on TV. It wasn’t a very exciting game, but it was better than watching a fly drown in a discarded beer glass and a hell of a lot better than remembering the shots and the blood.
The door always squeaked a little when it opened. If there
