Wish Upon a Christmas Star by Darlene Gardner Page B

jukebox. “I thought Alex Suarez was about to
pop a vein when it went up.”
    That was the guy who’d hired Kayla, the one the rookie private
investigator had a crush on.
    “How about Mike DiMarco? What did he say?” Maria didn’t expect
that the bar owner would recognize the name but watched him carefully for a
reaction. Every now and again long shots paid off.
    He frowned, his brows knitting together. “Can’t say I know
anybody by that name.”
    Maria pulled out the age progression and placed it on the bar.
“He’s probably going by another name. Do you recognize him?”
    The bar owner looked down at the photo, then back at her. “What
are you? A reporter?”
    This was one of those times Maria wouldn’t gain any ground by
telling him she was a private investigator. “I’m his older sister.”
    “The family’s lost track of him,” Logan interjected. Until now
he’d stood silently by, heeding Maria’s instructions to follow her lead. “She’s
worried.”
    “I hear you.” The bearded man addressed Logan. “I’ve got a big
sister, too. She’s always checking up on me. Says she can’t help it.”
    Maria pushed the paper toward him. “Somebody told us he might
be one of your regulars.”
    The bar owner studied the image intensely. “This isn’t a photo.
What is it?”
    “An age progression,” Maria said. “My brother’s been missing
for a while.”
    His mouth twisted. “Kind of looks like Clem.”
    “Clem?”
    “Don’t know his last name. He shows up a couple times a week.
Offers to play his guitar for beer. Sometimes I let him.”
    Maria’s heartbeat quickened. This dovetailed with the tip Logan
had received. Not only that, Mike had taken up the guitar during the last year
he’d lived at home. Sometimes he’d even jammed with friends. Once he’d claimed
he was getting good enough to play in a band.
    “Does Clem come on any particular night?” she asked.
    “Not Friday or Saturday,” he said. “I’ve already got live music
scheduled then. He usually comes in on Wednesday or Thursday.”
    Today was Wednesday.
    “What time?” Maria could barely contain her eagerness.
    The bar owner thought about it. “Sometimes early, sometimes
late, sometimes not at all.”
    “Hey, barkeep! Shut your trap and fetch me a beer,” yelled a
large, broad-shouldered woman a few seats away, thumping the bar for
emphasis.
    “Hold your horses,” he yelled back. To Maria and Logan, he
said, “That’s my big sister.”
    He left them to get her a beer, a smile on his lips. Another
time, Maria might have been amused at their interaction. Not now. Excitement
bubbled in her chest. Very soon she could be face-to-face with the brother she
thought she’d never see again. It was almost too much to process.
    “I hope you didn’t mind my stepping in like that and backing up
what you said.”
    She should. It was the second time he had done something like
that, the first being with the clerk at the post office.
    “I didn’t mind,” she said. “Surprisingly, you’ve been a big
help.”
    He laughed. “Surprisingly, huh? Well, I’ll take the faint
praise wherever I can get it.”
    She felt her lips curl into a smile. Maintaining coolness
toward him was too hard when her hopes were so high. “Enjoy it while it lasts. I
can’t promise praise will keep coming.”
    “Noted.” He tipped back his mug, his throat muscles working as
he drank the beer. He set the glass down on the bar. “What now?”
    “Now,” she said, “we wait.”
    * * *
    T WO HOURS LATER L OGAN sat across from Maria at one of
the outdoor tables adjacent to the street as a waitress from The Flying Monkey
served them slices of key lime pie with dollops of whipped cream.
    He’d suggested they have dinner while waiting for the guitarist
to show up, but Maria had barely touched her cheeseburger and fries. He hoped
she’d get something into her stomach, not only to soak up the wine she’d drunk
but to fortify herself for the blow that was