Page 85 of Bourbon Bliss
Oh thank god. “Awesome. Sorry I couldn’t make it another season.”
“You had a great run,” the bartender said. “Tell you what, drinks are on the house. What can I get you and your lady friend?”
As much as I didn’t want to stay and have a drink in a bar full of bikers that had looked like they might murder my girlfriend thirty seconds ago, I didn’t think I had much choice.
“A beer would be great,” I said. “Appreciate it.”
A guy in a black shirt with the sleeves torn off moved, offering me his stool. I motioned for June to sit and the bartender slid two frothy beers across the bar.
“How ’bout an autograph?” the bartender asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Be right back.”
“George, I need to ask about the compound,” June said.
“Shh. I know.”
“But we’re not here for you to give autographs.”
“June,” I said, softly into her ear. “They were about five seconds from murdering you and dumping your body out back.”
“I admit, most appear rough around the edges, but—”
“Trust me, June Bug.”
She took a deep breath and mercifully stayed quiet.
The bartender came back with one of my jerseys. He passed it across along with a Sharpie.
I made sure the bar was dry, then laid the jersey out so I could sign the front. My heart was still pounding from the rush of adrenaline and I could feel the eyes of everyone in here, boring into me.
“There you go.” I gave the jersey back to the bartender. “Thanks for your support.”
The bartender gave me a nod. “Now what was it that brought you two in here?”
I put an arm around June’s shoulders, showing them she was mine. “My girlfriend wants to know about a piece of property about ten minutes northeast of town. There’s an old gate and the whole thing is fenced in.”
“What about it?”
“Anyone lived there recently?”
The bartender shook his head. “No. It’s been empty for years.”
June almost shot off her stool, but I held her down.
“Huh, okay. So there wasn’t a group living out there? A religious group?”
He looked at me like that was a stupid question. “Religious group?”
“A cult,” June said.
There was some grumbling from the patrons closest to us.
“You talking about that Kendall girl on the news?” the bartender asked. “Nope. No cults around here.”
“Because you wouldn’t allow that in your territory, would you?” June asked.
