something she was much good at, and she suspected
rattled
wasn’t a state Duncan Welch wanted anyone to witness him in. Yet here he was.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
The glass clacked as he set it shakily on the bar. “Personal matters.”
A deep male voice from near the jukebox cut her off, bellowing, “Turn the TV up!
Turn the TV up
!”
The flat-screen was mounted on the short wall that ran around the drop ceiling above the bar, and with the exception of Broncos games, it was normally muted. Raina couldn’t see the screen, but she grabbed the remote from under the register and tossed it to the shouting man. Somebody jerked the plug on the jukebox, the neon lights going dark.
The stern voice of a news anchor rose to the TV’s max volume.
“—in custody after being apprehended in a motel outside Kerrville, Texas. He’s a prime suspect in the murder of disgraced former Brush County Sheriff Charles Tremblay—”
“Oh fuck.” Raina jogged around the counter to stand with the others. “They got Levins?”
One customer confirmed just as another shushed her. She’dhave taken issue with the latter, but the news was too important.
“—foreman is also a suspect in two other high-profile cases linked to the future Eclipse Casino in Fortuity. One involves human remains allegedly exhumed during the initial construction, as well as the death of Brush County Deputy Alex Dunn. It’s been speculated that Charles Tremblay and David Levins may have conspired to kill Dunn, to prevent news of the remains from becoming public, and endangering the progress of the casino. Virgin River Contracting is under federal investigation for widespread corruption, and it seems perhaps Sunnyside Industries might be joining them—unconfirmed reports say an employee of the developers is being questioned regarding bribery allegations.”
“Fucking corporate bottom feeders,” someone grumbled, echoed by another man’s “Like they don’t get paid enough already.”
“For the latest bulletins on David Levins’s arrest, stay tuned to KBCN, Brush County’s number-one news station.”
Several people clapped, and one man said, “Run like a deer, get caught by the wolves.”
His neighbor said, “Casino ain’t even fucking built yet and already this town’s going to hell.”
“We was already halfway there,” her friend countered.
A beer bottle came down with an angry thud. “Fortuity ain’t much, but it’s ours. I got half a mind to drive these goddamn vultures out by force.”
“Fucking right,” chorused another man.
Raina’s blood cooled, her thoughts turning to Duncan. No chance it was him who’d taken bribes—she’d never met a man with a bigger hard-on for rules in her life. But it wasn’t going to help his standing among the locals if Sunnyside got tarred with the same brush as VRC.
Raina stared at the screen, commercials flashing. “Fucking hell.”
“Well put.”
She turned at the words, finding Duncan standing beside her, drink in hand, eyes on the TV.
The jukebox stayed dark, the TV volume turned down a few notches and all but drowned out by the dozens of conversations now buzzing throughout the bar. People slowlygravitated to their tables and stools, and Raina got back to work. Duncan and Casey settled again on their seats.
“Well,” she said, filling a pitcher. “I didn’t see that coming. You sure this is where you want to be tonight?” she asked Duncan. The natives were even more restless than usual, and unless he boasted some secret karate prowess, she didn’t give him great odds in a bar fight.
He didn’t reply, but Casey was animated—and probably relieved to be talking about something other than his massive foot-in-mouth episode with Abilene. “’Bout fucking time they found him.”
“No kidding,” she said. “I figured he must’ve made it to Mexico by now.”
“He turned himself in.” Duncan’s tone was flat, expression blank. And his glass was empty, clattering
rattled
wasn’t a state Duncan Welch wanted anyone to witness him in. Yet here he was.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
The glass clacked as he set it shakily on the bar. “Personal matters.”
A deep male voice from near the jukebox cut her off, bellowing, “Turn the TV up!
Turn the TV up
!”
The flat-screen was mounted on the short wall that ran around the drop ceiling above the bar, and with the exception of Broncos games, it was normally muted. Raina couldn’t see the screen, but she grabbed the remote from under the register and tossed it to the shouting man. Somebody jerked the plug on the jukebox, the neon lights going dark.
The stern voice of a news anchor rose to the TV’s max volume.
“—in custody after being apprehended in a motel outside Kerrville, Texas. He’s a prime suspect in the murder of disgraced former Brush County Sheriff Charles Tremblay—”
“Oh fuck.” Raina jogged around the counter to stand with the others. “They got Levins?”
One customer confirmed just as another shushed her. She’dhave taken issue with the latter, but the news was too important.
“—foreman is also a suspect in two other high-profile cases linked to the future Eclipse Casino in Fortuity. One involves human remains allegedly exhumed during the initial construction, as well as the death of Brush County Deputy Alex Dunn. It’s been speculated that Charles Tremblay and David Levins may have conspired to kill Dunn, to prevent news of the remains from becoming public, and endangering the progress of the casino. Virgin River Contracting is under federal investigation for widespread corruption, and it seems perhaps Sunnyside Industries might be joining them—unconfirmed reports say an employee of the developers is being questioned regarding bribery allegations.”
“Fucking corporate bottom feeders,” someone grumbled, echoed by another man’s “Like they don’t get paid enough already.”
“For the latest bulletins on David Levins’s arrest, stay tuned to KBCN, Brush County’s number-one news station.”
Several people clapped, and one man said, “Run like a deer, get caught by the wolves.”
His neighbor said, “Casino ain’t even fucking built yet and already this town’s going to hell.”
“We was already halfway there,” her friend countered.
A beer bottle came down with an angry thud. “Fortuity ain’t much, but it’s ours. I got half a mind to drive these goddamn vultures out by force.”
“Fucking right,” chorused another man.
Raina’s blood cooled, her thoughts turning to Duncan. No chance it was him who’d taken bribes—she’d never met a man with a bigger hard-on for rules in her life. But it wasn’t going to help his standing among the locals if Sunnyside got tarred with the same brush as VRC.
Raina stared at the screen, commercials flashing. “Fucking hell.”
“Well put.”
She turned at the words, finding Duncan standing beside her, drink in hand, eyes on the TV.
The jukebox stayed dark, the TV volume turned down a few notches and all but drowned out by the dozens of conversations now buzzing throughout the bar. People slowlygravitated to their tables and stools, and Raina got back to work. Duncan and Casey settled again on their seats.
“Well,” she said, filling a pitcher. “I didn’t see that coming. You sure this is where you want to be tonight?” she asked Duncan. The natives were even more restless than usual, and unless he boasted some secret karate prowess, she didn’t give him great odds in a bar fight.
He didn’t reply, but Casey was animated—and probably relieved to be talking about something other than his massive foot-in-mouth episode with Abilene. “’Bout fucking time they found him.”
“No kidding,” she said. “I figured he must’ve made it to Mexico by now.”
“He turned himself in.” Duncan’s tone was flat, expression blank. And his glass was empty, clattering
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