currently playing something by Randy Travis, and two well-worn dartboards beside that. Two men were currently playing a game on one of them.
The bar was a crude-looking length of wood that took up almost the entire right wall, leaving a floor space of only twenty feet or so. There were five tables, several chairs, and two booths in that cramped space. There were three men sitting at the bar, hunched over glasses of beer. There was no TV behind the bar, just several shelves with liquor and an antique-looking glass out of some other long ago bar.
Including the bartender, there were six people in Pauly’s. All six of them turned to look at the two women who appeared to randomly visit this hole in the wall bar just after midnight. One of the men at the bar was making no effort to hide the fact that he was checking DeMarco out. He, like the other two men at the bar, looked worn out, tired, and as if they had spent a great percentage of their adult lives sitting at a bar.
The place reeked of desperation. It felt like the sort of place people came to after they had given up on their lives—the sort of place where a lot of paychecks had likely been drained before Friday night had even come to a close.
“Can I help you ladies?” the bartender asked. Kate figured this was Brent Clarkson. Vicki from Esther’s Place had told them he’d be here, after all. But Kate found herself rather confused. Jenna Marshall had described Brent Clarkson as a hottie. The man they were currently looking at was, Kate hated to think, not good-looking at all. He was fifty or so, going bald up top with the rest of his hair in disarray. He tried smiling at them and it was not the sort of smile that would have girls quivering. Kate thought it was a smile that might make younger children afraid, actually.
“Can we see you at the end of the bar?” DeMarco asked.
He gave them a perplexed look but did as they asked. One of the men at the bar chuckled at this.
“What is it?” he asked as he neared the end of the bar.
“Are you Brent Clarkson?” DeMarco asked quietly.
“No.”
“Is he here?”
“No.” Apparently, this bartender was not much of a talker.
“Do you know where he might be?” Kate asked.
“Probably home by now, I’d say.”
“So he does fill in here from time to time?”
“That’s right. He was here earlier, but things got slow. We flipped a coin to see who could go home first.”
“Do you know Mr. Clarkson well?”
“Well enough. Now…who are you, exactly?”
Kate slowly and subtly slid her badge and ID up on the bar. The bartender eyed it closely and then looked up to them with bewildered eyes. He took a shaky step away from the bar as if he thought they might be there for him.
“Do you serve underage kids here?” DeMarco asked.
“Never knowingly.”
“But from what I understand, there’s a new law. You have to card no matter how old the person looks, right?”
“Oh yeah. But Brent thinks every woman that walks in here wants to bang him. Sad thing is, a lot of them do. So sometimes he lets it slide. But only here. He couldn’t really get away with it at Esther’s Place.”
“We understand he might have served someone here last night that was underage.”
“That he did,” the man said. “Although, according to him, he honestly didn’t know she was underage. And as far as him not carding…he seems to conveniently forget it when there’s a pretty girl involved.”
“And he was working here tonight, you say?” Kate asked.
“He was. Had about ten people in earlier. That’s a pretty busy night for us on a Monday. I guess it’s because Thanksgiving is coming up and a lot of people sort of kick off of work early in the week.”
“Was there anyone young in here tonight?” Kate asked.
“I’m not too sure,” he said. “When Brent was here, I was over there playing darts for a while. Had to drive two drunk assholes home, too.”
“Any idea if Brent had any run-ins with underage drinkers tonight?”
“If he did, I didn’t see it.”
One of the men at the bar laughed at this. It was a mocking sort of laugh, as if he were making fun of something.
“Something funny?” DeMarco asked with ice in her tone.
“Nope,” the man said. “Not funny. But Brent did have himself a little run-in tonight. Pretty little thing came in