Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [21]
Vince sipped at his beer and pretended to watch the football game on the TV to his right at the end of the bar. The first Thursday night game of the new season had just begun. The ladies swung on their stools to watch the kickoff.
“Don’t it seem like football starts earlier every year?” Connie asked no one in particular.
“That’s a fact.” Vince nodded without turning around.
“I like football,” Dolores was saying. “Used to watch it with my dad and my brother when I was a kid. God rest their souls.”
“To be sure.” Connie nodded solemnly and made the sign of the cross in concert with her companion.
“Who do you like this year?” Vince asked the bartender, still careful not to pay too much attention to the ladies.
“Dunno. Too early to tell.” Frankie stared at the screen for a moment, then turned to Vince. “ ‘Nother beer?”
“Sure. And one for the ladies, too.”
“Aw, you don’t have to. . . .” Dolores protested.
“Aw, thanks, that’s so nice.”
“Hey, we’re gonna watch the game together, we have to toast the start of the new season, right?” He turned to them now for the first time and smiled his easiest smile.
“Right. To the new season.” Connie lifted her glass and leaned forward just slightly to get a better look at Vince.
“To the season.” Dolores did likewise. “To the NFL.”
“Long may she wave,” Connie giggled. “And long live those spandex pants.”
“Shhhh,” Dolores whispered to her.
“Hey . . . hey, what’s your name?” Connie called down to Vince.
“Vinnie. Vinnie Daniels.”
“Hey, Vinnie, you think those guys’ pants are made from spandex?”
“Not sure what they’re made from.” Vince pretended to be amused.
“You hush, Connie. He’s gonna get the wrong idea about you.”
“What, that I’m interested in those big thighs and those big butts and those big—”
“Connie!” Dolores slapped a hand over her friend’s mouth. “That’s enough.”
Red-faced, Dolores turned to him. “You have to excuse her, Vinnie. She gets a little mouthy when she drinks beer on an empty stomach.”
“Then let’s get some sandwiches out here.” Vince signaled the bartender. “Your sign out front says you got the best burgers in town. Let’s have a few of them while we watch the game.”
He turned back to the two women. “My treat, ladies. To celebrate my first day in Carleton.”
“Oh, you’re new in town?” Dolores asked.
“Just arrived this afternoon.”
“Where you from?”
He paused. Where was he from?
“Delaware.” He had no idea where that came from but it sounded okay.
“Oh, where? My sister lives in Delaware. At the air force base in Dover,” Connie said.
He avoided the question. “She in the air force?”
“No, her husband is. They been there for two years now. I should get down there one of these days for a visit.”
“Hey, look at that! A touchdown already.” Vince raised his glass. “Here’s to the first touchdown of the season.”
“Amen.”
“Cheers.”
Before the first quarter had ended, their burgers had been served. By the time his burger had been eaten, he knew everything he needed to know about Dolores Hall.
She lived alone.
She had no family in town.
She was a hairdresser who, along with Connie, owned a salon.
She had just broken up with her boyfriend.
She wasn’t too bright.
She was relatively passive, for all her mouthing off, and she was emotionally needy. He could tell just by the way she was looking at him that she had him pegged as a possible replacement for the now-scorned Mr. Doherty.
She was just the woman he was looking for.
All in good time, of course. For tonight, he’d buy her and her friend beers, watch the game, and make small talk. He wouldn’t come on to her—nah, he’d wait maybe even a whole week before he even asked her out, and then he’d take her to dinner. Someplace other than here. Someplace where he’d have to pick her up at her house and take her home, where he could come in and get the lay of the land. By then he’d be a new regular at the Dew Drop. He’d have a pattern established, an identity that no one would have reason to question. He’d no longer be a stranger, a loner. He’d give them information about himself, and