After I Fall (Immortal Billionaires #1) - Melissa Sercia Page 0,52

years on this planet, I’d learned a handful of things that stuck with me. One of them was if you wanted information on someone or something, it was probably wise to ask the bartender.

Cassius and I stood out like sore thumbs as we exited my hundred thousand dollar black sedan in our three piece suits. The Rusty Nail was exactly what it sounded like—dark, dingy, and crawling with nosy locals that didn’t take kindly to outsiders. They drank us in, scanning us from head to toe as if we had just come to steal their first born children.

I wiped the crumbs off a bar stool with my silk handkerchief and took a seat. Cassius did the same but only half-sat, keeping his eyes glued on the perimeter behind me. His wild streak would not allow him to be comfortable anywhere. Not in human spaces at least.

The stocky bartender, wearing a red flannel shirt and dark denim jeans, leaned against the wall, and glared at us. “Just passing through?”

I unbuttoned my collar. “Something like that. We’ll take two shots of your finest whiskey.”

The bartender moved slow toward the bottles. He slammed two shot glasses down in front of us and poured out something that looked like dirty water. “Fine isn’t something we carry around here. This is what we got.”

I knew I should have brought my flask. Something told me he had better booze but wanted to make sure we didn’t stick around. “Saluti.” I lifted the glass to my lips and downed it back before I could gag. Cassius didn’t touch it.

The bartender exchanged a chuckle with another patron, a squirrely guy who looked like he hadn’t bathed in days. “What brings you through our neck of the woods?”

I smiled, tight lipped. “I’m glad you asked. I’m doing some research on the town and its prominent families. I was hoping you could tell me about the Monroe farm?”

He chewed on a toothpick, tossing it back and forth across his chapped lips. “What kind of research? You one of those big city detectives or something?”

“No, on the contrary. I’m a professor. I teach history. Thought I’d focus on small towns this semester.” It was so easy to lie to them. Humans would believe anything to suit the narrative in their heads. Especially the one that removes any possible threat.

The bartender leaned back against the register, folding his arms to his chest. “The Monroe farm is just up the hill. Nothing much to tell. They keep to themselves.”

Cassius picked up his glass finally and sniffed it before knocking it back. “How long have they been in Maplewood?” he asked, his voice gruff.

The bartender shrugged. “Long as I can remember. Not much of them left though. They got a couple daughters. One moved away to a big city I heard. The other one won’t even go to the store by herself.”

Nothing new. “Anything unusual about them?” I persisted. There had to be something.

The bartender looked up at the ceiling and scratched his chin. “Not that I reckon. Unless you count how their oldest one looks nothing like the rest of them. Rumor had it, she was the milkman’s daughter if you catch my drift?” He winked and chuckled.

Now we’re getting somewhere. “Oh? Go on.” I placed a hundred dollar bill down on the bar.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah. I remember now. When Mrs. Monroe was pregnant with her, we never saw her. Not once. Mr. Monroe wouldn’t let anyone inside their house for nine months. When she finally came out, the kid looked older than a newborn.”

“And nobody asked or questioned them?” I asked.

The bartender shrugged again. “Not our place. They are a respectable family. And we mind our business around here.”

I slapped another hundred on the bar. “Well, thank you for your time.” I gave a Cassius a nod.

“You ain’t a professor, are ya?” The bartender swooped up the hundreds just in case I changed my mind.

He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box but he was smarter than I’d given him credit for. “Have a good day.” I smiled and gave him a nod before walking out.

As I pulled the car out of the parking lot, Cassius had his laptop open again, furiously typing away on it.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Cassius didn’t break eye contact with the screen. “That she was adopted? Yeah. I was searching the wrong databases before.”

“You’re still not going to find anything. You heard the man. Her mom hid inside to disguise the fact that Raven