"Well, I just will," I said. "I love beer. Don't know why I never told you that before." I took a huge swallow and looked up at him. "What're you doing here?"

He looked right back at me. "I got business here. Question really is, what're you doing here? You don't know Nosmo King." He pushed the beer a little closer to my hand, daring me, and I wasted seconds taking a huge swig.

"My that is good," I said. "Nothing like a fresh keg." Across the table, my drinking buddies giggled.

"I'd need a drink too, if he was gonna look at me like that!" the blonde said.

Marshall Weathers put his hand down on the table, right next to mine. He leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving my face.

"I've been thinking about you," he whispered.

My entire body started to respond. My heart started racing, my stomach did a little flip, and every place he'd touched the day before remembered the feel of his fingers. But my brain was on override. I tried to picture him with Tracy the cadet, but when he was staring like that, all I could think of was him.

"I've been thinking about you too," I said, but it came out kind of squeaky and high-pitched.

Marshall leaned back a little and stared at me. "You're up to something, Maggie Reid."

"No, I'm not. I'm just, um, glad to see you, surprised, that's all."

"Drink a little more of that beer, Maggie. You don't want it to go flat on you."

I picked up the cup, never broke eye contact, and drained it dry. It was all I could do not to spit it out. That's when I remembered Tracy.

"Don't you have a job to do?" I straightened up in my chair and frowned at him. Truth of the matter was, if he stuck around much longer, I was going to melt into a little puddle of desire, right at his feet.

"Yeah, way I see it, you're part of my job. You wouldn't be here if you didn't have something up your sleeve. After last night, I'd think you'd get a clue that this is dangerous business, but no, here you are in the thick of it. A good detective oughta be asking himself why."

"Way I see it," I said, "is I've gotta go." I started to get up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back down into my seat.

"I'd have to arrest you if you did that," he murmured.

"Arrest me! Why?"

My drinking buddies giggled.

"On account of drinking and driving being against the law and dangerous." He smiled, but it was a dangerous smile. He was licking his lips, enjoying the bind he now had me in, knowing he owned this particular situation.

"Way I see it, I'm gonna have to take you home." One of the girls sighed and he smiled over at her, then looked back at me. "You stay right here. I've gotta talk to a couple of people, then I'll be back and we can go."

While he spoke, the beer snuck up and whopped me between the eyes. I'd only had two, but they were king-sized cups, and on an empty stomach at that.

"All right," I said, "I'll wait. But if you take too long, and I sober up, I'm out of here." Then the beer took over and did the talking for me. "You know," I said, "I don't need you. And I don't even drive a van, so if you're looking for some backseat boogie queen, well, buddy, you'd better roll on."

Weathers raised his eyebrow, frowned for a second, and then laughed out loud.

"Backseat boogie queen?" he said. "That's good. No, honey, you're not the backseat boogie queen type."

I watched him turn around and walk away, still formulating my comeback. What did he mean I wasn't the backseat boogie queen type? I was just as wild as stupid Tracy. I had half a nerve to show him just how wild I was. Stupid men.

My drinking buddies were watching Weathers walk away, moon-eyed. The blonde took another swallow of beer, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and belched softly.

"You just don't see an ass like that every day."

"You got that right," I said. "Asses like that only come along once in a blue moon." Idiot.

The three of us watched him walk away, straight over to Bess King's table. I waited until he was deep in conversation and then reached for my little beaded purse. I pushed my chair back and got to my feet carefully. The beer buzz hummed around my head and left me feeling a little woozy.

"You're not leaving?" Nosmo's girlfriend asked.

I looked at my drinking buddies and smiled. "Like a silver bullet."

"But he told you to stay right there!" the blonde exclaimed.

"He can tell me all he likes, but I've got a mind of my own. I'm not sitting around waiting on some man to finish his business and come after me."

The dark-haired girl sighed. "I waited on Nosmo, and where did it get me?" The water faucet started up, and it was crying time again.

The blonde looked at me and rolled her eyes.

I couldn't help it. I truly was on my way out the door, but opportunity is not a lengthy visitor. I pulled a tissue from my purse, handed it to the dark-haired girl, and sank back down in my chair.

"You must've been very close to Nosmo," I said. And that was all it took.

"He loved me," the dark-haired girl said, sobbing. "She wouldn't let him go!"

The blonde's head dropped down into her hands.

"Yeah," I prompted. "She looks like the type to hang on, just like a rat terrier."

The dark-haired girl favored Bess with a malicious glare.

"Nosmo said she'd ruin him, take half of everything they owned! She's a money-hungry, greedy bitch, and there's not a person in town would disagree with that."

"Surely you don't think she really killed him, do you?"

"Aw, Pauline, let it go, honey," the blonde said.

Pauline drew herself up in her chair and stared at me, her eyes wide and raccoon-ringed with mascara.

"She did. I know she did. I don't know how she got away with it, but she killed him all right, even if she had to hire it out!"

"Pauline," the blonde sighed. "Look at her, she don't look like a killer. More'n likely, it was business."

Pauline grabbed her beer cup, knocked it over, and went for her friend's cup.

"All right then, Christine, then you tell me this. Why'd she have him followed? And when we got caught, why didn't she do anything about it? Huh? Answer me that! And a week later, he's dead." Her voice broke off in a hiccuping sob. "Oh, Nosmo!"

Christine rolled her eyes again. "It's always like this," she said. "When somebody dies young, everybody thinks it's a conspiracy. Well, this time it's just a plain old killin'. Nosmo had a lot of enemies, Pauline. You can't work for…" She broke off then and looked over at me.

I cut my head from side to side, then looked back at Christine. "It's okay," I said, "I know who he worked for."

"Well then," Christine said, "you understand. It was business."

I looked at Christine, checking out her tight black satin dress with the little rhinestones that ran around the low-cut neckline. She looked like the type to know. She looked like a gangster's girlfriend. Maybe she'd heard enough to know. Whatever she knew, she certainly wasn't going to tell me. She hadn't even told Pauline.

I pushed my chair back again and stood up. Weathers was still talking to Bess and her mother. Her mother was frowning and sitting up ramrod-straight, as if she didn't like what Marshall was saying.

I took one last look at the back of his head, allowed myself one last little thought about the way it felt to run my fingers through that hair, and then turned away. I smiled at my companions, winked, and walked right out the side door into the midafternoon air.