did. He ordered another rye and ginger from the pretty bartender in a tight Bruins T-shirt, then leaned back a little on the swivel stool and glanced around. St. Stephen’s was not a whole lot bigger than the Sevens. There was room enough for a long wooden bar and about a half-dozen booths. At the bar were two men, each drinking stout and each looking at their cell phones. Alan couldn’t tell if they were together or simply seated next to one another.
Most of the booths were empty, but one held a husband and wife with their two kids, and at another was a lone woman looking at a laptop. She had dyed red hair, and was so short that her feet dangled from the booth’s wooden seat.
Alan turned as the bartender was placing his drink in front of him. He thanked her and took a sip. He drank from his straw, and the first sip was pure alcohol. He stirred the drink and removed the wedge of desiccated lime. There was no sign of Kate. Maybe she’d just come in for a single drink and then left. Or maybe there was a back dining room that Alan couldn’t see. He was about to ask the bartender when the ladies’ room door swung open with a harsh metallic screech. Alan turned, and there was Kate.
Chapter 11
After using the dingy toilets, Kate pushed her way back into the restaurant. There, sitting at the bar, was Alan Cherney, looking in her direction. Their eyes met. A warning went off in her head. Had he followed her here? And if so, why?
He swiveled minutely on his bar seat, scrunching his brow as though trying to place her. She stepped forward.
“Hiya,” she said.
“Hello,” he answered. He wore a beautiful tweed coat, and under it, a shirt with a frayed collar.
“Kate Priddy. I’m in your building. In Corbin Dell’s apartment.”
“Oh right. Right. I know that. It’s Alan.”
“Yes, I remember you. You just here for a drink? Is this a place you come to a lot?” Kate inexplicably laughed after asking this question. Whatever ease they had had when they first met had disappeared. Maybe it was because Alan, in the dim light of the tavern, looked like a nervous public speaker facing a massive audience.
“No, no,” he said. “I’ve come here before, maybe once, but not too often. How did you even know about it? I lived here for a year before I found it.”
“Corbin recommended it. I’m eating dinner.” She indicated with a turn of her head the farthest booth, directly underneath the tavern’s lone television, silently showing highlights from a golf match being played somewhere sunny and warm.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt you—”
“No, join me,” Kate said, surprising herself. “Unless you have—”
“No, I’d love to.”
Alan brought his drink over and sat across from Kate, who was halfway through her second glass of wine. Her bowl of chicken chili had arrived while she’d been in the toilets. It was enormous, on a plate that was festooned with multicolored tortilla chips. “Have you eaten?” Kate asked.
“No, I haven’t, but . . .”
“But you took one look at my dinner, and . . .”
Alan laughed. “No, I’m just not that hungry. I keep thinking about Audrey. Remember, we talked about her.”
“I know. It’s terrible. The police came and talked with me.”
“Yeah, me too. Well, they took a statement.”
“Did they search your place?”
“No, did they search yours?”
“Briefly.”
“Huh.” Alan shifted in his seat, crossing his legs under the table and bumping a knee.
Kate then told him about Jack Ludovico, Audrey’s friend, who she’d talked to on the street. Alan listened intently, sipping at his drink.
“What did he look like?” Alan asked when Kate had taken a break from talking to eat her rapidly cooling chili.
Kate hesitated. Alan’s rapt attention was unnerving somehow. Maybe she shouldn’t have invited him to join her. “Only if you tell me why you’re so interested,” she finally said. “I know you said you barely knew Audrey, but I don’t know if I believe you.”
She watched as Alan made up his mind. His expressive face seemed to register everything, and Kate wondered if he knew that about himself, knew how easy it was to read him. “Okay,” he said. “I didn’t actually know Audrey Marshall. We never met, but I could see her through my window in my apartment. I have the place opposite her and we both look over the courtyard, so sometimes I watched her—I know that sounds incredibly creepy, but