Page 28 of Tequila Tuesdays

Her head jerked back, and her eyes got wide.

“You’re ruining Jonathan’s birthday lunch and embarrassing yourself. And me.”

Ava finally looked around and realized everyone was watching us. She shrank back in her seat and looked like she was going to cry. But I had no patience or sympathy for her. The silence was painful.

Damien cleared his throat and leaned toward me. “Harley, does everyone know what your nickname for me is? And did you tell them all how we met?”

“You have a nickname for him?” Laurel asked after a few seconds. She bent forward and looked down at us.

Damien grinned. “Yeah. She calls me Dimples. And I’ll be damned if I’m not starting to like it.”

Laurel turned to me and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Howdidyou two meet?” Jonathan asked curiously.

Martina started to laugh. “This is a great story.”

“Oh, Lord,” I muttered under my breath. But there wasn’t any fire in it. Damien had deflected an ugly situation when he could’ve easily just sat back and watched. I downed the rest of his mimosa. Damn it all, I was starting tolikethe man.

Chapter 11

OnMonday,Icalledone of the private investigators who worked with the public defender’s office to see if they could help track down Shanda. I was really worried about her.

“Dickie speaking.” Martin Dixon answered on the fourth ring. He sounded rough.

“Hey, Martin, this is Harley Emerson. You sound terrible.” Dickie’s first name was Martin. Most people called him Dickie, but he reminded me more of a Martin.

“Hi, Harley.” His voice was wheezy and raspy. “I have bronchitis, fuck me. I’m pretty sure my nephew gave it to me.”

“That's too bad. Any idea when you’ll get back on your feet?”

He started coughing again, and I winced in sympathy.

“My doctor said it usually lasts a few weeks, and the coughing can go longer. I’m planning to take a month off just to be safe,” he wheezed.

“Glad to hear you’re taking it seriously, and I hope you feel better soon. How’s your nephew doing?”

He cleared his throat. “The cute little shit is doing better than me. James goes to daycare, and I swear that place is a biohazard site. Do you need help with a case?”

“Martin, I’ll see who else is available. You shouldn’t worry about work right now.”

“I’m bored out of my mind and sick of hearing myself cough. Just tell me what you’ve got,” he whined.

“Okay, but let me know when you’ve had enough. I don’t want to overtax you.”

He sighed. “I’ve been cooped up in bed for five days. Lay it on me.”

So I told him about Shanda’s case and her disappearance.

“Hmm. I’ve heard of Jason Ulrich. Do you remember Ernie’s big case last year? The one involving the shooting at that shitty bar in Indio?”

“Yeah. Vaguely.”

Ernie was also a public defender. He was a great criminal defense attorney and had a lot more experience. He usually got the high-profile cases. “Wasn’t it over someone’s girlfriend or something like that?”

“Kind of. I think the shooter—his name was Chauncey—was looking for one of his meth buyers who’d found another supplier. I doubt he went looking for his buyer to put two bullets in his head.”

“Yeah, that’d be bad for business. So why did he?”

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