Page 31 of Hot Chicken

Walking into The Wild Shrimp, I look about the place for Charlene. It’s definitely tourist season. It’s Friday night and so crowded it’s hard to see the people seated at the bar.

As if she has mental telepathy, an arm pops up through the crowd and waves. I’d recognize those multicolored neon nails anywhere.

“Hey, what took you so long?” she greets.

“Sorry. I’m trying to itemize everything I need to order for the Christmas in July festival. I can’t believe it’s in two weeks.”

Micky, a bartender we know well, comes to take my order, and Char interjects. “Just give us a minute, Mick.”

I laugh, scooting onto the bar stool next to her. She’s got this down to a science.

“Hi, ladies. Can we buy you a drink?” I turn to find a tall, average-built blond in his mid-thirties wearing the uniform of rich tourist men everywhere. Tommy Bahama. I rotate back to Charlene, who winks at me, and I roll my eyes in return. Char and I used to make it a drinking game—one shot for Tommy Bahama and two if their partner was wearing Lily Pulitzer.

“We’d love a fresh Margarita if you’re buying. Are you in town on vacation?” Charlene asks. It’s the same line she gives all of them.

“Yes. I’ve been to the Florida Keys, but it’s my first time to Candy Cane Key. I’m Robert, and this is Bill.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Charlene, and this is Elliot.”

Really, Char?I narrow my eyes at her.You had to give them my real name?

“Elliot. Now that’s an unusual name,” Bill says. He’s a little shorter and broader than his wingman. And unlike Robert, he’s wearing an expensive golf shirt. They both reek of money and husbands who conveniently left their rings back home.

“Yeah. Parents. What’re ya gonna do?” I shrug.

“Hey, Ellie. There’s a call for you. You want to come down here where it’s a little quieter?” What? I’ve never gotten a call at the bar before.Jeez, could it be Pops?

I swiftly hop off my stool and follow Micky to the end of the bar closest to the kitchen. He hands me the receiver, and I attempt to cover my other ear as if I might be able to hear over the commotion. “This is Ellie.”

“You can… better…” It’s hard to tell if it’s a bad connection or the sheer volume of the restaurant interfering with the call.

“I’m sorry. I can’t hear you very well. Is everything okay?”

“No. It’s not…” Again the voice fades out. The voice sounds male, but I can’t be sure.

“Is this about my-” The dial tone comes through the receiver clearly. What the heck? My heart rate picks up. Returning to the bar where Charlene is holding court, several cocktails placed around her, I slide back onto the stool. My nerves are frayed. What the hell was that?

“You okay?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t make out anything they were saying. But no one’s ever tracked me down here before. I’m kinda frazzled now. Do you mind if I go check on Pops? With the way he’s been in and out of the hospital lately, I can’t relax until I see he’s all right. If he’s gone to bed for the night, he’ll never answer the phone.”

“Oh, sure, babe. You do whatever you need to.” She takes a sip of her Margarita. “Do you want me to come with?”

I lean forward a bit as I answer. “Only if you need an escape.”

She waves me off, as usual, and whispers back, “I’ve got this.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, Char. Maybe next time I can ask Jo to hang with Pops if we’re out.” I hop off my stool and kiss her on the cheek before turning for the door.

“Leaving so soon?” Robert asks with a menacing grin on his face. Why do I feel like I dodged this bullet?

“Yes. Sorry. Something came up.”

“Maybe I should walk you to your car?”

“No, I’ve got it,” Harrison interjects.

Robert holds his hands up as if he’s at gunpoint and turns back to Charlene and his friend.

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