I watched with amusement as Helen leaned across the bar and waved the bartender over. She stood about five-foot-eight, with long, thick brown hair and a firm build. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties.
Helen handed her some sort of card and waved her hands in front of her. I couldn’t see her face, but I imagined her mouth was keeping pace with her flying arms. If she kept it up, she might lift off of the ground.
Rita drummed her fingers on the table, a twinkle in her eye. "She"s handing out business cards with a picture of the sheriff standing by the river with his shirt off. It"s like she"s trying to sell him like a piece of prime beef at the butcher"s shop. The front lists his weight, height, eye color, and his favorite recreational activities. I bet it even includes his choles
