Strung Out to Die by Tonya Kappes Page A

kind of kooky.

Chapter Eleven
     
    “I’ll help you clean up.” Cheri picked up a couple of the bead boards off the table, being careful to stack the Diva’s projects on top of each other. Briefly, she paused and stood in front of me. “I think we should go to the Livin’ End together. Tonight.”
    “Tonight?” I looked up at the clock on the wall behind the counter. “It’s 10:15pm.”
    “I bet things are really getting started about right now.” Her eyes lifted. “People have already had a little time to get a drink or two in them. And you know that saying about alcohol and talking.”
    I shook my head. “No, I don’t know any sayings,” I confirmed.
    “You should know it.” She bit her lip as though she was searching her brain for something. “I don’t know what it is, but my aunt, who is about your age, used to say it.” She tapped her chin. “Something about having loose lips.”
    I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know. I thought that you could go and report back to me. Not me go with you.”
    That was the plan. I wanted her to do her sweet college girl thing and fast-talk to get what we needed to get.
    “Come on. It’ll be fun.” She pleaded, following me back to the storage room.
    One-by-one I took the boards from her and stacked them back on the shelf for the next meeting.
    “I can’t do that. Everyone will know what I’m up to.”
    “I was thinking that you could dress differently.” She cast her eyes up and down my body. “I have some stretch pants and a really cool top you can put on. I also have this great wig that we can disguise you in.”
    “No.” I shook my head continually. “That doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”
    “Are you kidding me?” Her mouth formed an O and she stomped the ground. “That’s a great idea. Think about it. We can be sitting there like two college girlfriends and you bring up the subject. Instead of me trying to come up with questions on my own, you can ask the questions that you need the answers to.”
    She did have a point. Just say that I did go in disguise, I could ask any questions and get the information first hand, not second, which was what would happen if Cheri went on her own.
    “Fine,” I agreed.
    “Come on!” Cheri grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the storage room. “Get Willow and lock up. Meet me upstairs.”
    “Okay. I’ll lock up.” I showed her out the door, and then went back to the counter.
    Placing my hand on the phone, I knew I needed to make a phone call, but wondered if Noah had put a tap on it. Still, I needed to get a hold of Sean. He hadn’t returned any of my calls, which made me believe it was a little suspicious.
    Before I really had time to think about what I was doing, we were walking into the Living’ End. She was right. The bar was hopping.
    Cheri wove in and out of the crowd like a true champion. She scored a couple of bar seats at the far end. By the time I waddled over, she had already ordered our drinks and was talking to the guy next to her.
    “Here she is.” She put her hands out like she was Vanna White and showing me off. “This is Steve. He’s a regular here.”
    Steve nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off of Cheri.
    “Nice to meet you.” I planted a half grin on my face, afraid to smile too much or all the makeup Cheri had put on me would crack off in chunks.
    He still didn’t look at me. I wouldn’t look at me either. There was nothing worse than feeling like a stuffed sausage link, except for looking like one. My legs definitely looked like one, especially with the size-six ankle boots she made me wear, when I wear a size nine shoe.
    Pulling the “cool” shirt, which was a cropped sweater with a long tank underneath, down to cover what little it did, I plopped on the bar stool.
    “What can I get you?” The bartender asked. He didn’t recognize me. Usually he would ask how Sean was, but he didn’t this time.
    “I’ll have water,” I stated confidently in my new