Romeo Fails (6 page)

Again with the possible double meaning, Dorsey thought with more than a hint of frustration. ‘Just like you’ meaning ‘I like girls just like you do’? Or ‘I like girls who are just like you’? Why couldn’t she just be clear… Or maybe she was clear and Dorsey couldn’t read the signals. Frankly, she often found other lesbians completely incomprehensible. Not that she knew many. She just wished she could figure out the secret handshake, or the magic password or whatever it was that allowed other gay women to communicate with ease, instead of always being the one left wondering… All she could do was go with her usual direct and honest approach, not that it had worked particularly well in the past. She took another sip of her beer to cover her confusion, then flicked a sidelong glance at Sarah, who was examining her surroundings with interest.

Good returned with her glass of wine and eased himself back into the booth.

“So where’s Maggie?” he asked Sarah, looking around to see if Maggie had come in while he’d been at the bar.

“She and Aunt Viv have some kind of meeting tonight. Quilt circle or barn raising or something,” she said jokingly, rolling her eyes a little bit.

“Quilt circle sounds more plausible,” Good said dryly.

“Yeah, I guess so. They invited me to go, but honestly, I needed some alone time. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mags and Aunt Viv to death, but I’m used to spending a lot of time by myself. Of course, then I remembered there’s not a drop of booze to be found in Aunt Viv’s house. So when it stopped raining, I thought I’d take a walk and see if I could find a place to have a glass of wine somewhere.”

“Well, you found it,” Dorsey said. “The only bar in Romeo Falls.”

“The Hamlet,” Sarah said. “So is this town full of Shakespeare references? I haven’t noticed any others.”

“Nope, this is the only one. And I don’t think the owners meant it as such when they named it The Hamlet. It just turned out that way.”

Good intoned, “Two beers or not two beers…”

Dorsey joined him on the punch line. “That is the question.” They clinked their glasses together. Sarah laughed, more at their interaction than the lame joke. She took a small sip of her wine, then wrinkled her nose again as smoke from the 4-Hers’ booth eddied over their table.

“Sorry about that,” said Good, waving a big hand in the air as if that would chase away the smoke. “You’re from Chicago, right? I hear you can’t smoke in the bars up there anymore, is that right?”

“That’s true. That’s one thing I hate about small towns. Oh, sorry!” Sarah caught herself with a rueful grin. “That came out kind of rude. I’m sorry—Romeo Falls is lovely, really. I’ve always wanted to come here. I heard so much about it when I was a kid from Maggie that I kind of pictured it like…like…I don’t know, like a perfect little slice of heaven, I guess.” She laughed, as if at herself and her childhood vision of a midwestern paradise.

“Well, I was hoping there wouldn’t be feedlots in heaven,” Good chuckled. “But I guess it is pretty nice. I like it, anyhow.”

“What about you?” Sarah asked Dorsey, who’d gone quiet in her corner while the two of them talked. She was enjoying the chance to observe Sarah while she spoke with Good. Her slender wrists. The hint of triceps tone in her upper arm when she raised her wineglass. The way she gracefully gestured with her hands sometimes when she talked. The way the subdued lighting in the bar made subtle highlights in her soft, straight, coal-black hair. Hair she wanted to run her hands through, right there, right then…

“Dorsey?”

Dorsey realized both Sarah and Good were looking right at her, apparently expecting a reply to some question she’d missed. Before she could respond, Luke Bergstrom called out to Good to come play pool. Good gulped down the rest of his beer, made his excuses to Sarah and Dorsey, then joined Luke at the pool table.

“Who’s his buddy? The big good-looking guy?” Sarah wanted to know.

“That’s Luke Bergstrom, our chief of police. Husband of our waitress from brunch this morning, if you recall.”

If you dug deep enough, practically everybody in Romeo Falls was somehow related to everybody else, by marriage if not by blood.

“Wait—Bergstrom? As in Maggie’s ex-husband Bergstrom?”

“Right. She’s divorced from Dwayne—thank God—and that’s his older brother Luke, who is nothing like Dwayne, by the way. Luke and Good played football together in high school. Luke was the nose tackle and Good was the center. But I don’t know if you follow football…” Dorsey trailed off.

“Are you kidding me? Da Bearz!” Sarah said with a grin, making her allegiance plain.

Courtney Flugelmeyer had noticed the two of them sitting next to each other and was staring at them with narrowed eyes. Dorsey saw Courtney elbow Tanya. Tanya looked over at Dorsey and Sarah and then said something to Courtney that made them both laugh and go back to drinking. They were doing a round of shots now and getting louder by the minute.

“So Luke and Good played football together…” Sarah prompted her, unaware of the scrutiny from one table over. She inched a little closer to hear Dorsey’s reply over the barroom noise.

“Right. And hunted and fished together. Luke used to be over at our house all the time when we were kids and even when he was first on the force, but he’s cut back on socializing a lot since he became chief. It must be hard for him,” she mused.

“And how about your socializing?” Sarah asked. “Is that hard for you?” Her knee brushed Dorsey’s under the table.

“What do you mean?” Dorsey said, a little wary of this personal turn to the conversation.

“Well, you know, small town… not a lot of fish in the pond…”

Dorsey silently eyed her over the rim of her beer glass as she drained it. Sarah looked steadily back at her for a moment, then broke the eye contact to look away.

“Oh, hell,” Sarah said. “I so suck at this.”

She looked back at Dorsey and said, “I guess I’m just wondering if you’re seeing anyone right now.”

“No, I’m not,” said Dorsey. “Are you?”

“No,” said Sarah. She smiled as a reciprocal slow grin appeared on Dorsey’s face. There was a brief pause.

Then Dorsey said, “So now what?”

Sarah laughed. “Oh, crap,” she said. “I was hoping you’d know.”

“Well, are you hungry?” Dorsey tried. “’Cause I’m starving. I haven’t had anything to eat since brunch.”

They decided to order a pizza.

“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” Dorsey asked Sarah. Not that she disapproved of such a healthy habit—she just wanted to make sure she didn’t order something that Sarah wouldn’t like.

“No,” Sarah told her. “And I don’t require anything fancy, either. A medium supreme will be just fine. I like a little of everything, remember? And I’ll get us some more drinks while you order the pizza, all right?”

“Deal.”

Dorsey went to the end of the bar where the cook waited to take her order, while Sarah spoke with the bartender. She looked awfully good in those jeans, Dorsey thought. She watched her walk back to their booth with the drinks. Luke was watching her as well. He and Good had apparently finished their game. Her brother caught her eye and came over to her.

“I’m taking off,” he said. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’ll walk. Thanks again for the beer, Good.”

“Yeah, we should do that more often.” He smiled and headed out the door. She turned to go back to the booth, but was forestalled by the college boys moving past her, with Justin Argyle in their midst. One of the guys was teasing him. They’d all gone to school together.

“Does your mama know you’re out past your bedtime, Justin?”

“Fuck off,” Justin told him. He looked like he’d had one too many.

Dorsey let them pass, then followed in their wake as they walked toward the exit. Luke was standing by the booth now, talking to Sarah. Justin bumped into him as he passed. Luke put out a stabilizing hand.

“Whoa, careful there!” he said to Justin, who shook him off impatiently.

“Lemme go,” he muttered irritably, then stumbled on out the door. Luke watched him go with a frown. The last of the college boys assured Luke that they would see Justin home safely. Luke told him to drive safely, then turned back to his conversation with Sarah, who was looking a little irritated herself.

“Hi, Luke,” Dorsey said. “Are you joining us?” She hoped the answer was no, but didn’t want to be rude.

“Hey there, Dorsey. Don’t mind if I do, for a minute.”

He slid into the side of the booth across from Sarah, setting his red plastic cup of soda down on the table. Dorsey sat down next to her.

“I guess you two have met,” she said to Sarah.

Sarah nodded, although not with great enthusiasm, Dorsey noticed.

“Pizza will be here shortly,” Dorsey told her. Sarah nodded again.

“Ah, yes, the famous cousin from the big city who wasn’t at the wedding,” Luke said with a grin. “I was the best man,” he told Sarah. “It about broke Maggie’s heart that you couldn’t make it.”

Sarah grimaced with regret. “I know, I felt awful about that, but my editor had me on assignment in London and I couldn’t get back for the ceremony. I still feel terrible about that. Maggie had even asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.”

“Yeah, you missed out on some kick-ass peach chiffon dresses,” Dorsey kidded her.

“Oh, really? You must’ve been the maid of honor, right?”

“Yep. But no dress for me. Maggie and I compromised on an equally horrifying peach pantsuit.”

“Sounds sexy,” Sarah said, flicking Dorsey a grin. “Now I’m doubly sorry I missed the wedding.”

Dorsey grinned back at her, then shot a look over at Luke, who was unconcernedly drinking his soda and watching the two of them. She didn’t think they’d gone too far (although more than far enough, probably), but Luke was no dummy. He merely gazed back at her in a friendly fashion, however.

“So, what do you think of Romeo Falls?” Luke asked Sarah, turning his attention back to her. “How does it compare with Chicago?”

“It’s awesome,” Sarah said shortly.

Dorsey caught no hint of sarcasm in her tone, but her cursory reply seemed intended to cut Luke short. Dorsey’s leg brushed against Sarah’s under the table—she could feel the tension in Sarah, but wasn’t sure of the reason for it. Luke, however, seemed undeterred by her terse response.

“And what brings you to town?” he asked.

“Oh, I had some time on my hands and wanted to visit Maggie.”

“How long are you staying?”

Sarah cocked her head to one side and considered him for a moment. “You ask a lot of questions, Luke.”

“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands placatingly “Occupational hazard. And I’m afraid I have one more question, but this one’s for Dorsey.”

“What is it?” Dorsey said.

“Have you sold red spray paint to anyone lately?”

Sarah froze in the middle of lifting her wineglass to her lips, but then recovered so that the motion almost looked uninterrupted. Almost.

There was a split second when Dorsey thought about not telling Luke about Maggie and Sarah buying the red paint the day before. But that was crazy. What was she thinking? Why would she lie to Luke for no reason whatsoever? It wasn’t like buying the paint implicated either of them. That was just silly.

“Well, actually, Maggie and Sarah bought some yesterday. Maggie said she wanted to redo her porch chairs.”

Dorsey looked to Sarah for corroboration. Sarah merely nodded while taking another sip of wine.

“Oh and I remember Dr. Melba bought some spray paint a while back. Couple of months ago, maybe. But I’m not sure if it was red,” Dorsey said. “Goodman rang up the purchase if I recall correctly. I suppose you’re asking Good and Shaw this same question?”

Luke nodded. Having pointed a finger at Sarah—sort of—Dorsey now felt obliged to stand up for her.

“But Luke, anyone could have a can of red spray paint. They could have bought it six months or a year ago, or in Grover. Or Timbuktu, for that matter!”

“I know,” he said. “But just because a question’s obvious doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask it.”

While the two women considered that in silence, the bartender arrived with their pizza and a couple of plates.

“Thanks, Kenny,” Dorsey said. “Can we get another round when you have a moment?”

“Sure thing, Dorsey.”

Luke stood up and said, “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to your pizza. I’ve got some more pool to play. Sarah, it was nice to meet you.”

Sarah nodded and smiled at him, but Dorsey thought her smile looked a little forced. Sarah’s eyes were pinned on Luke’s broad back as he returned to the pool table, where the Lucchese sisters were currently trying to play, hampered by blood alcohol levels probably well over the legal limit.

“You okay?” she said to Sarah.

Sarah gave herself a little shake as if to release tension, then smiled brightly back at Dorsey.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not a big fan of cops.”

Dorsey noticed that Courtney and Tanya, who were still seated in their booth, were now muttering to each other, while giving her and Sarah some hard looks. With a sigh, Dorsey got up and moved to the other side of the table.

“Seriously?” Sarah said to her. She seemed disappointed that Dorsey had opted to sit elsewhere. She didn’t appear to have picked up on the vibe from the next booth.

“The natives are restless,” Dorsey replied in a quiet voice that she hoped Sarah would hear, but the next booth would not. Sarah arched an eyebrow and looked around the room, then shrugged. Maybe she was used to it, Dorsey thought. Or maybe it was easier to take coming from strangers instead of people you’d known your whole life.

Kenny the bartender brought another beer and a glass of wine as they enjoyed the pizza, which was deliciously hot and loaded with toppings.

“Oh my God, this is so good, but I’m full,” bemoaned Sarah, three slices later.

Dorsey smiled at her obvious despair that she couldn’t stuff a fourth slice down her throat. At least she wasn’t one of those girls who ate like a bird, complaining all the while about calories and carbohydrates. It dawned on her that she was having a really good time. That was such an unusual sensation, she wasn’t used to it. She was feeling a little nervous, though, for at least two reasons. Where was this going, exactly? Anywhere? She tried to tell herself to just relax and enjoy the moment. But reason number two was hampering her efforts in that area—the mutters from the booth behind her had gotten louder as the evening progressed. She’d already heard one full-volume “fuckin’ dykes” from Courtney. She knew they should probably leave before things got ugly, but she hated letting them chase her out. And, from a practical standpoint, they were probably safer inside the bar with the chief of police ten feet away than they would be outside in the parking lot. Tanya, especially, was known in high school to be both a biter and a spitter. Based on long experience, Dorsey found both her and Courtney to be despicable, ignorant, fearful women. One was vice president of the PTA. The other taught Sunday school at the Presbyterian church. Pillars of the community.