Sleight Of Paw

24

We repeated the process at the next bar, The Hilltop, only with a waitress and with the same result. Now that I knew my role as cuckolded girlfriend, I played it up a little, looking morose and sighing. Apparently Maggie thought I was turning it up a bit too much. She elbowed me in the ribs. Hard.

It didn’t matter. The place had been deadly quiet Wednesday night and Eric hadn’t been in.

At Barry’s Hat, which was more of a jazz place than a dive bar, Maggie charmed the male bartender. It was a side of Mags I’d never seen before. I couldn’t exactly figure out what she was doing. It was nothing blatant.

The guy had gone from businesslike to goofy in about three minutes. By now I had the wronged-woman routine down pat. When Maggie pulled out Eric’s photo, all I had to do was think about the quick glimpse I’d gotten of Mary starting to undo the laces on the front of her corset, and my cheeks burned.

We weren’t any luckier at Barry’s Hat. The smitten bartender even had one of the waitresses look at the picture. No one remembered seeing Eric on Wednesday night.

As we were standing up to leave, the bartender asked, “Have you tried the after-hours club back that way?” He pointed the way we’d come. “The Drink,” he said, and rolled his eyes. “Really creative name. Your guy might be doing his drinking there.”

He gave Maggie directions and she gave him a smile that probably made him forget his own name for a moment. “Come back in sometime,” he said.

“I just might,” she said.

“Where did you learn to flirt like that?” I asked.

“I wasn’t flirting. I was just talking.”

“Of course you were,” I said, pulling on my gloves. We hadn’t found out anything about Eric, but I’d had an educational night. I’d learned that Mary had some smooth moves as a stripper, and Maggie had some smooth moves period.

“You want to go check out this Drink place? We’re going to pretty much be driving by it, anyway.”

I leaned my head against the back of the seat. “Why not?”

The parking lot of the Drink was jammed with cars. Maggie squeezed the bug in at the end of a row. I hoped she’d be able to back it out when we were ready to leave.

The Drink was noisy, smelled like smoke and bodies and was jammed with people. Maggie scanned the space.

“How are we going to do this?” I shouted.

She turned toward me but kept her eyes on the people dancing and drinking. “I don’t know.” Then something caught her eye. She started to smile. “This is going to work,” she said. “This is going to work just fine. Come on.” She started making her way through the crowd.

I kept my eyes on the back of her head and followed. She stopped beside a young woman with hair the color of lime Jell-O and a nose ring. “Jamie?” she asked.

The young woman, whose little apron marked her as a staff member, turned. When she saw Maggie, her face split with a huge grin. “Hi,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Maggie tipped her head toward me. “Helping a friend.”

After Barry’s Hat she’d put Eric’s photo in her pocket. Now she pulled it out. “Were you working last Wednesday night? Was he here?”

“What did he do?” Jamie asked suspiciously.

“It’s more like who,” Maggie said. She looked from the waitress to me and back again.

Jamie looked at me and shrugged. “Sorry.” Then she took the picture from Maggie. “He was here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah. He was a good tipper and he got really, really drunk.”

Maggie and I exchanged looks.

“But he wasn’t with any girl. He came in by himself.”

My heart sank.

She gave me an apologetic half smile. “He seemed really nice. Way nicer than his jerk of a friend.”

Maggie held up a hand. “Wait a second. I thought you said he came in by himself.”

“He did,” she said. “His friend was waiting for him.”

“What did the friend look like?” I asked.

“He was cute.” A guy two tables away snapped his fingers at her. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she called. She turned back to us. “Like I said, cute. Bit of stubble, dark hair all slicked back in a ponytail and one of those jackets sailors wear.”

Maggie looked blankly at me.

“A peacoat?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’s it. But he was a jerk. Figured he knew way more than me because I’m just a dumb waitress. And he stiffed me on a tip.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” Maggie said. “Any time you want to come for a few classes, they’re on me.”

She gave Maggie a one-armed hug. “Thanks. I might do that.”

Finger-Snapping Guy was at it again. Jamie made a face. “Your guy’s nice, you know, for what it’s worth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Thanks.”

We elbowed our way back out and slid across the parking lot to the car.

“How do you know her?” I asked Maggie.

“Jamie? She was in my tai chi class last winter. She has great balance. I think her hair was blue then, though.”

I waited while she negotiated the car out of the cramped parking spot before I said anything else. “Any idea who the other guy was?” I asked.

“No,” Maggie said. “I was hoping you did.”

“Problem is, whoever it was doesn’t even have to live in Mayville anymore. All Susan knew was that Eric used to be our mystery guy’s sponsor.”

Maggie nodded. “Stubble, a ponytail and a peacoat isn’t much to go on.”

“Maybe Roma will come up with something as far as the trucks,” I said.

“What if you just laid it all out for Eric?”

“He won’t tell Susan who he was with,” I said. “What makes you think he’ll tell me? And when I did talk to him I didn’t get anywhere.”

“What kind of support group is this where you can cover for someone who’s committed a crime?” Maggie asked, flicking the switch for the heater up a notch. The inside of the car began to get warmer.

“I think it’s more Eric’s thing than any group’s thing,” I said thoughtfully. “Have you noticed how important loyalty seems to be to him?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, eyes glued to the road. A few flakes of snow were blowing around.

“Look at the staff of the café. He hires the same students in the summer. His regular staff’s been there for years. He’s done the library barbecue forever, according to Abigail. Even the year Susan was pregnant with the twins and couldn’t get out of bed.”

“Good point,” Maggie said.

I sighed and shifted in the seat. I couldn’t wait for Susan to talk to Eric. “Maybe if he understands this is going to help Ruby . . .”

We talked about Winterfest the rest of the way home and how the rumors about Roma and Eddie Sweeney wouldn’t die. But I was really giving the conversation only half my attention. I kept rolling Jamie’s description of Eric’s friend around in my mind. It could have been anyone. Anyone.

So why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I should know exactly who it was?