Strung Out to Die by Tonya Kappes Page B

accent.
    Cheri wagged her finger in front of me. “No she won’t. She’ll have a bourbon and coke.” She shooed the bartender off and turned toward me. “What’s wrong with your voice? Be cool. Ask questions. Don’t make it complicated.”
    Eric Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight echoed all over the bar, and the smoke hung over the pool tables like an early morning fog. I didn’t recognize anyone, which I guess was a good thing.
    “You come here much?” The guy next to me asked. His button down was untucked and the two top buttons were undone, not to mention it was a little wrinkled. It looked like he had a small stain on the thigh of his khaki pants. The bar light reflected off his bald head.
    “No,” I stated.
    “What are you drinking?” He leaned closer and titled his glass so the ice would clink against the sides.
    Cheri elbowed me, giving me the eye.
    “I just ordered a bourbon and coke.” It was painful to fake a smile. I wasn’t good at flirting. I never had been and never would be. Sean and I had known each other for years, so it was a comfortable relationship where I didn’t have to try so hard. Maybe I should’ve. “Do you come here a lot?”
    “Not really, but I do love a cute redhead.” He fluttered his eyebrows like Groucho Marks.
    “What?” I drew back, thinking this man was crazy.
    “Your red hair.” He pointed to the wig that I had completely forgotten I was wearing. “I like your hair.”
    “Oh, it’s so loud in here that I can hardly hear you.” I brushed the edges of the short fake strands with my fingertips. “Thank you so much.” I drew out the ‘you’ in my best southern accent.
    I had always heard that men loved southern women, so why not throw that in.
    “Cheers.” I held my glass up and let him think that I was all into him. I leaned a little closer, and cozied up to him. If I was going to get some information, I was going to have to do this flirting thing. “Did you hear about that big brawl that took place here the other night where one of the men ended up dying?”
    “Darling, I sure did hear about that.” His lips parted into the widest grin. “From what I hear, there was a little tension between the two. In fact, I’d bet he was having an affair with that bead store owner.”
    “No he wasn’t!” I jumped up, knocking the stool on the ground. Cheri bounced off her seat, ready to pounce.
    “What’s wrong?” Cheri came nose-to-nose with the guy. “Did you say something to my friend?”
    “Cheri?” Someone called from behind us. “Is that you?”
    We both turned around. Bernadine stood with her hands on her hips, red hair flowing over her shoulders, and her mouth gaped open. Amusement flickered in her eyes when she noticed me.
    “Holly?” Her eyes darted back and forth between me, Cheri, and the guy. “Ernie?”
    “Ernie?” Cheri and I asked in unison.
    “Yes.” He turned completely around on his stool, bald head shining like the North Star.
    “I think I’m going to need a drink for this explanation.” She pushed her way between us and planted her tush on my stool. Putting her finger in the air, she ordered, “Whiskey sour, please. And make it a double.”
    “This is Ernie?” My voice dripped with disgust. “He believes that I’m having an affair with Doug.”
    I glared at him, not taking my eyes off him for one second.
    “Was.” Ernie lifted his brows, exposing his beady little eyes. “He’s dead. Remember?”
    “Oh!” I lunged toward him, Cheri pulled me back and my wig went flying off and smacked him square in the face.
    “I knew you weren’t a real red head.” He threw the wig on the bar floor and turned back around in his seat.
    “Aw, shut up.” I took another seat at the bar. There were plenty to choose from because my little fiasco had scared everyone off. The bartender shot my glass down the bar with a look of death. “Sorry.”
    “What is going on here?” Bernadine got off her stool and grabbed the wig. “If I knew