First Star I See Tonight (Chicago Stars #8) - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,80
have been random,” he said.
“Don’t even start with me about that.”
She began peppering him with questions, as he’d known she would. When had it happened? Who might have witnessed it? Had he seen anyone hanging around the alley?
He told her everything he knew, which was exactly nothing. Tony and the cleaning staff had been inside the club. None of them had seen anything. He hadn’t reported it to the police.
She set her jaw in that way she had. “Let’s see what your pal Keith has to say about this.”
A notice next to the front door read: protected with loaded guns. He suspected the sign wasn’t meant to be ironic.
The place smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke left over from the eighties. A long bar, square tables, a yellowed linoleum floor, and random wall art served as decor, while the Bee Gees singing “How Deep Is Your Love” on the jukebox provided questionable ambience.
None of the array of beaten-down locals looked up as they walked in. Keith was behind the bar, his back to the door. Piper took a seat at the end of the bar. Keith turned and saw them both. The rag he’d been using stalled in his hand.
Pipe proved her familiarity with dive bars. “Two PBRs.”
Coop hadn’t had a Pabst since he was fourteen, but this wasn’t the kind of place where you ordered the latest IPA.
Keith brought over their beers. He needed a haircut, and he hunched his left shoulder, the same way he always did when he wanted to look tough. The same thing he’d done when Coop had fired him.
“Come here to laugh at the corpse?” Keith set the beers in front of them with a hard thud that sent a splash of suds over the rims.
“You did it to yourself, pal.” Coop still hadn’t gotten past the sting of betrayal.
“I’m buying this place as soon as I get the cash together,” Keith said belligerently. “Make it into something.”
“Good luck.”
Keith took a couple of swipes at the bar with his rag. “There was a time you’d have helped me.”
“Yeah, well, that train pulled out of the station a while back.”
Keith had never had much of a poker face, and the corners of his mouth dipped. He looked over at Piper. “What are you doing with her?”
“I’m his new girlfriend,” she retorted. “He upgraded.”
Considering the accomplished women in his past, that wasn’t exactly true. But in another way, it was.
Keith dismissed her and returned his attention to Coop. “You know what I miss?”
“What’s that?”
“Sitting around shootin’ the shit. That’s what I miss.”
Coop shrugged.
“For what it’s worth,” Keith said, “it was Taylor who came up with the idea. Stupid bitch. She moved out on me right after I got this job.”
Coop took a sip of beer. “All you had to do was tell her no.”
Keith gave a bitter laugh. “You’re the one with character, remember? I’m the one who always screwed the pooch.”
Piper set down her mug. “So, Keith, while you’re all full of regret . . . Last week, somebody jumped your ex-pal here. Know anything about that?”
Keith looked genuinely shocked. Ignoring Piper, he stared at Coop. “She serious?”
Coop nodded.
Keith’s left shoulder went up. “You think it was me?”
Coop considered it. “Not really.”
“But I have a more suspicious nature,” Piper said. “I heard you took a swing at Coop when he fired your ass, so it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”
Keith’s face flushed with anger. “I’ve done a lot of shitty crap in my life, but I’d never do that.”
Piper bore in—drilling him on where he’d been that night. At the bar working, as it turned out. Where he’d been this afternoon—asleep with no alibi. But Coop stopped paying attention. Whatever else Keith had done, he hadn’t been behind any of this.
While Pipe continued her interrogation, Coop took a pull on his beer and contemplated hidden enemies. He hated this. He wanted his enemies where he could see them, right across the line of scrimmage.
***
Soccer wasn’t Coop’s game, but Deidre Joss had invited him to Toyota Park to see the Chicago Fire play D.C. United, and he wouldn’t turn her down. He liked everything about Deidre, from her personality to her reputation, everything except how long it was taking her to commit to his operation.
He glanced across the stadium’s executive viewing suite at Piper. She managed to look both cute and sexy in a loopy orange sweater and a pair of jeans that actually fit. Her predictable dark tousle of a hairstyle wouldn’t work