Page 19 of All He Sees
"I know how to lighten up," she said, "that's all. But when I'm working a case, all I care about is getting the job done."
"But at work, you're a drill sergeant."
Nicky laughed and shook her head. "That's funny, coming from you," she said.
A smile tugged at the corner of Ken's mouth as he shrugged. "Nicky, I'm not going to underestimate you. I don't think you're a drill sergeant. I just think you could use a little balance in your life. I think that maybe you're always so focused on work because it helps you cope with what happened to your sister.”
Nicky felt the anger rising up inside her, like a lit match. She shot Ken a look. "You're being out of line."
He raised his hands. "Not trying to piss you off. Just being honest. I get the sense you don't do much other than work."
What bothered her the most was, he was right. Even when Matt, her childhood friend, had wanted to spend more time with her, Nicky couldn't let him get close. She thought of her psychiatrist, Dr. Graham, and how he thought she should have more people in her life. Not her work life, her personal life.
But where was the room? With Rosie--and her job--things were too high-stakes.
"You're right, work's my life," she said to Ken. "And apparently, I get free therapy here too." She shot him a grin to let him know she'd cooled off.
Ken laughed. "Normally not my style. It's just a thought I had."
At long last, they reached the bar. Nicky pulled off the highway, and the car bumped over rocks as she pulled into the parking lot. Nicky parked the car, and they got out.
The bar was a small, one-story building with a brick exterior and neon lights. It had a few cars in the parking lot and a glass door with a neon sign that read "BAR."
"Christ, what a dump," Ken said. "Do you think he's here?"
Nicky scanned the parking lot. There were quite a few cars here, and mixed among them, she spotted Pedro's green CRV. She nodded at it. "Looks like he might be."
They went inside. Nicky became surrounded by the smell of stale beer and cigarettes. Rock music played from the juke box--it was a typical dive bar, with typical dive bar clientele.
Nicky and Ken headed to the bar and sat down. There were quite a few people in the place, and the bartender quickly walked over. He was an older man with a bushy mustache and a white apron tied around his waist.
"What can I get you?" he asked.
"We're looking for Pedro Lopez," Nicky said, flashing him a photo of Pedro on her phone. "Is he here?"
The bartender squinted at the picture, then shook his head. "Nope, haven't seen him. Sorry."
"Are you sure?" Nicky asked, narrowing her eyes. There was a car exactly like his outside. Maybe the bartender was protecting him.
"Of course, I'm sure," the bartender said, crossing his burly arms. "I'm going to serve him if he's here, aren't I? So, if I saw him, I'd know."
Nicky paused. She sensed hostility, and she didn't like it. Maybe it was best not to push quite yet. She could feel the glaring eyes of biker types in the bar looking over.
"Whose green car is that out there?" she dared to ask.
"None of your business," the bartender said.
He was looking at the two of them, sizing them up.
"Listen," Nicky said. "My information says that he might be here. I want to talk to him. It's very important."
"And I said that I haven't seen him," the bartender said. "Look, lady, I don't know who you are, but this is my bar. Leave my customers alone."
His eyes narrowed, and he looked like he was growing angry. Nicky raised her hands. "Fine, you don't have to talk to us," she said. "But if you see Pedro, could you call this number?" She handed him her card.
"I'm not his babysitter," the bartender said, taking the card. He glanced at it, and Nicky saw his eyes widen. "And I don't know anything about him, so why are you here?"
The hostility in the bar was palpable now. Nicky could feel the air around her shift. She could feel the bikers' eyes on her. She could feel the pressure. The bartender's eyes were on them too, assessing. Threatening.
