Bounty(12)

“Deal,” I stated.

“I’ll get it,” Bubba said instantly.

The woman named Krys narrowed her eyes at me, did a sweep of my head, hair and upper body, then her eyes got squinty.

“Your look don’t say champagne.”

“That’s because it normally says beer or bourbon but I have something to celebrate.”

“Babe, the troops been out of Vietnam for entire decades,” she sniped.

I decided not to explain that her hair might be a different facet of that decade, but she shared something with me.

“She gets touchy when she’s on her feet for a while,” that rough, deep voice came back and I looked toward it to see he was close and tossing a beer mat in front of me. He then turned and grabbed a milky-glassed, oft-washed, possibly purchased in Krys and my fashion inspiration decade wineglass from the back of the bar, turned back and set it on the mat.

“Tate, do not speak about me like I’m not even here,” Krys bit out.

He looked down at her. “Krys, you’re makin’ Twyla look downright friendly.”

Her lips thinned.

I braced at the same time wondering who Twyla was and hoping I didn’t ever meet her.

The champagne cork popped.

And with that distraction, I gave up the struggle, looked all the way right and saw that Deke was still at his place at the end of the bar, back now to me, attention not on the guy with the cap but across the space.

I looked where his attention was aimed and saw a mini-skirted biker babe leaned over the pool table, ready to take a shot, ass aimed Deke’s way with a purpose.

God, he didn’t only not remember me, he had no interest in me.

God.

“You’re usually beer and bourbon,” Bubba started and I jerked my gaze back to him.

I noticed he was pouring my champagne.

Krys was looking toward Deke.

The man called Tate was studying me.

I swallowed.

“Then what’s with the champagne?” Bubba finished.

“About an hour ago, I closed on a house,” I shared.

Krys turned her glare back to me. Bubba smiled huge. Tate kept studying me.

“Well, shit, woman, that’s a celebration. Welcome to the neighborhood!” Bubba cried, lifting the bottle of champagne in a salute before he set it down by my now-filled glass.

“If you want, you can all share it with me,” I offered, tipping my head to the bottle.

“Do I look like I can suck back a glass of champagne?” Krys clipped.

“No. Though you act like you need one,” I retorted to Bubba’s choked-back guffaw and Tate’s lips twitching. “But I wasn’t offering it to you. I was offering it to the guys.”

“On-duty, darlin’. But thanks for the offer,” Bubba said.

“Sweet, but I’m not a champagne kinda guy,” Tate put in. “And I second what Bubba said. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

I nodded to him.

With one last look at me, he wandered away.

I looked back to Bubba and Krys who were now attached with Bubba’s arm around her shoulders.

“So, just sayin’, good news,” Bubba noted. “Not a lotta folk been movin’ here past few years. Lotta folks been movin’ out, not a lot movin’ in. Nice to have a fresh face around.”

“And a new ass to sit on a stool,” Krys put in. “That crazy lumber guy in Gnaw Bone, hirin’ hits, kidnappin’ people and shootin’ folk. Dalton, our own personal serial killer. Fuller and his pig cops keepin’ everyone under their thumbs, framin’ Ty for murder, extraditing his ass to LA to rot in prison for five years.”

I was blinking rapidly at all her words, but Krys didn’t notice.

She was still talking.

“Thought we hit enough extreme to last a lifetime, then we had those lunatics who lost their shit thinkin’ it’d be exposed and buryin’ Faye alive. Bigger lunatic church lady holdin’ those two poor kids hostage in her basement for years. And if that wasn’t bad enough, then came those fuckin’ crazy teachers brainwashing kids into robbin’ houses. All a’ that goin’ down, no one wants near Carnal, Gnaw Bone or Chantelle. It’s the fuckin’ Bermuda Triangle of the Rockies.”

I’d thankfully stopped blinking but I knew I had my mouth hanging open, I just didn’t have it in me to close it.

Real estate agent Joni hadn’t shared any of that with me.

That house didn’t sell for ten months because it was over-priced and incomplete.

Serial killers? Hired hits? Brainwashed kids?

A woman buried alive?

What the fuck?

At least it brought to mind how I knew that Tate guy. He’d been on the news about that serial killer.

I just didn’t recall that all happened in Carnal.