Heads You Lose - Lisa Lutz [38]
Lacey felt a shiver run up her spine. She wanted to smash a beer bottle over Marv’s head, like you see in the movies. Instead, she bought him a beer, laying her money on the bar.
“How about a peace offering,” Lacey said. “A pint on me.”
Tate poured the pint and slid it in front of Big Marv. Lacey got up from her barstool, and as she tossed on her coat, she made sure her arm swung in the perfect angle to knock over the glass and let the beer fall on Marv’s substantial lap.
“I’m so sorry,” Lacey deadpanned. She tossed another bill on the bar. “Let me buy you another.”
Big Marv’s face turned bright red. If Lacey had been a man, you could bet another headbutt would have been in the cards. Despite what women will tell you, there are more than a few perks.
Lacey took in a deep breath when she stepped outside. She held her hands up and watched them shake. She walked to her car, counting her drinks, wondering if she should call Paul and what state she’d find him in.
“There ain’t no way in hell I’m letting you drive home.”
Lacey spun around in the Timberline parking lot, which was really just an amoeba-shaped patch of gravel. Deputy Doug, in his off-duty denim and plaid, nodded in the direction of his pickup truck.
“Whether you spilled that drink on purpose or not, you’ve had a few too many.”
Lacey hopped into his truck without any argument. At the moment, she didn’t have any words left in her. But Doug had a different agenda. He started up the truck and turned onto the dark Mercer road.
“You okay, Lacey?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”
“Unlikely.”
“If you change your mind.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. Anytime.”
Lacey grunted some acknowledgment that’s hard to spell. Doug remained silent until they reached the Hansen home. He had almost run out of material. But he hung in there as long as he could.
“I’m sorry about Hart. That must be hard.”
“Thanks.”
“But maybe it’s for the best,” Doug said. “I always thought you could do better.”
“Not every thought in your head should be spoken, Doug.”
Lacey reached for the car door before Doug had pulled to a complete stop. The door was locked from the driver’s-side panel.
“Can you unlock the door, please,” Lacey said.
“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” Doug said, not unlocking the door.
“Do what?”
“Have a drink sometime.”
“We weren’t having drinks together.”
“Well, we could.”
“Anything’s possible.”
“You know me, Lacey. I’m a nice guy.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“We could go to a movie, maybe.”
“Are you going to unlock the door?”
“Maybe just something simple. Like dinner.”
Lacey reached across the cab, pressed the lock release, and jumped out of the truck.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, deciding to end on a polite note since she’d already made one enemy that night. Something was up with Doug; she just didn’t have the energy to contemplate it. She pushed the door shut with both hands.
Blaring music from the radio and a blinding light flashing on his eyes woke Paul. Lacey studied the solid welt that had formed and concluded that her brother was in danger of a concussion and needed to be awake. Plus, she had some things on her mind and needed to talk.
“Big Marv said something strange to me,” Lacey said.
“My advice to you would be don’t talk to Big Marv,” Paul replied.
“What happened, Paul?”
“I tripped outside of Diner and fell on my head.”
“What were you doing at Diner?”
“Eating fries.”
“Alone?”
“Uh . . . yes.”
“If I went into Diner and asked if you were alone, would the employees corroborate your story?”
“You’re going to start investigating me now?”
“If you keep lying, I will.”
“Lacey, we have got to let the cops do their job and just mind our own business, all right? I’m sorry Hart is dead. But he spent a lifetime making enemies. It’s not so hard to believe that one of ’em finally killed him.”
“A long time ago, I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with him, and now he’s dead. I just need to know who did it.