The Last Quarry by Max Allan Collins

heard?”
    Connie’s grin was unkind. “He’s telling his friends he fell down the stairs.”
    “So, he, uh, didn’t...go to the police or anything?”
    Connie’s eyebrows hiked. “Oh, now you have to tell me!”
    Janet shook her head, then froze in mid-shake, and said, “Excuse me, Con...”
    “Why? What...?”
    And something unnerving happened.
    Janet’s eyes caught mine in the mirror.
    Quickly I looked away, and said something inane to the brunette bartender, who complied by saying something equally inane.
    I heard Connie yelling, good-naturedly, “You are definitely not excused! Janet—you come back here and dish, or else! ”
    I felt the finger tap my shoulder.
    I winced, then swung easily around on the bar stool and glanced at her as casually as I could.
    “Oh hi,” I said.
    “Oh hi?” Her smile went up a little more on one side than the other, creating a nice dimpled effect. “I guess I owe you a drink.”
    “You don’t. Really.”
    “I do. Really.”
    The stool next to me was vacant; it would be. She took it. We looked at each other in the mirror again, this time on purpose.
    She said, “Why do I think you’re checking up on me?”
    “Why do you?”
    For several long seconds she studied me in the mirror, then she said to my reflection, “Well...I imagined I saw you in a booth at Denny’s this morning.”
    “Some imagination you have.”
    Her eyes were smiling, too. “ Wasn’t it you?”
    “That was me. But I wasn’t looking for you.”
    She raised one eyebrow. “You were just there for that delicious Grand Slam breakfast, right?...And now you’re here, Guardian Angel, seeing if Rick’s had the good sense to...”
    “Take a hint?”
    Her smile went up on both sides, this time, andushered in some laughter. Shaking her head, she said, “I really do owe you one....Have a drink with us.”
    I didn’t want to join her and Connie, and give the other librarian a closer look at me. But I was cornered. Turning Janet down would have been suspicious. Or so I told myself.
    Whatever the case, I was soon sitting on Janet’s side of the booth as she and bubbly Connie chitchatted, both of them nicely at ease around me, Janet revealing a new self-confidence.
    Connie licked some beer foam from her upper lip and, just the tiniest bit drunk, said, “That little prick Rick? He’s been a bully since grade school. But he always gets away with it, ’cause his family has money.”
    “Fuck him,” I said. “His family hasn’t given me any money.”
    They both laughed at my naughty talk.
    Making reluctant eye contact with Connie, I joined in on the chitchat. “You’re from here?”
    “Born and raised, and too dumb and untalented to get out.” She smirked at Janet, good-naturedly. “What’s your excuse?”
    Janet shrugged and said, “Destiny. Which is to say, answering an ad.”
    Connie, suddenly quite serious, locked eyes with me. “This little girl’s gonna be head librarian one of these days. Just you wait and see.”
    “Really,” I said, and narrowed my eyes and nodded.
    Amused, Janet said, “Don’t pretend to be impressed—doesn’t suit you....And, so, Jack—what is it you do?”
    “I’m in sales and service,” I said.
    Janet, apparently the designated driver, was drinking a Diet Coke. “What kind of sales and service?”
    “Veterinary medicine.”
    “That sounds...interesting.”
    I smiled a little. “No it doesn’t.”
    Connie, frowning, asked, “Do you sell vets that stuff they use to put animals to sleep?”
    “Afraid so,” I said.
    Connie made a face. “Dirty job but....”
    “I’m sure,” Janet says, “he sells plenty of things that make the animals feel better.”
    “I try,” I said.
    Janet and Connie exchanged looks. Connie’s smile at her friend told me I’d passed the test—for at least one night. Saturday at Sneaky Pete’s, the options were limited.
    Janet gave Connie a glance that I didn’t at first understand, until Connie straightened herself, her