Lye in Wait by Cricket McRae

have to
be the disciplinarian. I don't like that he tries to be her pal instead
of her dad. Damn it, she needs a dad." She added, "And he's not
even that good at being a pal."
"
    I know. But you have to remember that Erin is part of the
equation, too. She's one of the smartest kids I know. No, she's the
smartest. She's not taken in by her father's constant excuses. She
loves him, but she understands what's going on, and she's dealing
with it just like you are."
    Meghan groaned. "God, that doesn't make me feel any better!"
    The kettle began to whistle on the stove. "What kind of tea do
you want?" I asked.
    "I don't want tea," she said.
    "Coffee? Wine? Scotch?"
    "I want a beer."
    "Well, that we don't have."
    Meghan grinned. "Well, let's go get one, then."
    "And dinner."
    "Yeah. And dinner. Greek food"
    "Mmm. That sounds great. I'm starving."
    Pushing her chair back, Meghan stood. "Go get changed. We're
leaving in ten."

     
EIGHT

    I HURRIED UPSTAIRS. GOT out of my scrubby work clothes and
into a freshly washed pair of jeans and a forest-green, long-sleeved
knit shirt. I zipped on a pair of black ankle boots, applied a little
eyeliner and lip gloss, and smoothed my hair back from my forehead, patting the thick braid down my back to make sure it hadn't
come loose.
    Downstairs, Meghan waited for me in the living room. She
wore the same clothes-khakis with a button-down white shirtand had run a comb through her curls.
    Cadyville isn't exactly a rocking town. It shuts down early except for a few restaurants and taverns, and the latter don't serve
any hard liquor, only wine and beer. We headed to the Greek and
Italian place on First Street, where I indulged in souvlaki and
Meghan had the spanikopita. We almost always ate at home, both
to save money and because of Erin's schedule, but we both loved
Greek food. Well, truth be told, I love most any kind of food.
     
    While we ate, she updated me on what she'd learned from
the funeral home. Then I told her about my visit with Tootie
Hanover.
    "So he told her he'd made an investment that turned out well?"
Meghan asked.
    I nodded. "And he gave it all away. You'd think he would have
spent some of it on himself. Forget a new truck, I never saw so
much as a new shirt."
    "How do you know he gave it all away?"
    "I guess I don't. Do you think there's more?"
    "Could be. The investment could still be paying off," Meghan
said.
    "But he didn't tell anyone about it," I said.
    "No, Sophie Mae. He didn't tell you about it."
    After we had shared a piece of decadent pumpkin cheesecake for
dessert, I sat back and took a sip of fragrant after-dinner coffee.
    "So, do you still want to go have a beer?" I asked.
    "Yeah. You?"
    "I'm up for it. How'bout we go into the Gold Leaf?"
    Meghan wrinkled her nose. "I was thinking more along the
lines of Eldon's."
    "But Walter didn't used to hang out at Eldon's."
    "Ah. But he did used to hang out at the Gold Leaf?"
    "Before he stopped drinking. I hadn't realized Walter was an
alcoholic until Erin said that the other night."
    We shrugged into our coats and went outside. The pavement
was wet, but for the moment it had stopped raining.
    As we walked down the block to the tavern, Meghan said, "Walter moved into that cottage soon after we bought the house. He seemed pretty functional, but his daily window of sobriety steadily
decreased the first year or so that I knew him. Then all of a sudden
he stopped drinking. He came and talked to Richard and me once,
apologized for I don't even know what, and I figured he was working his way through a twelve-step program. He did the same with
everyone else he had worked for in the neighborhood. As I recall,
Richard was kind of an ass to him."
     
    "Talk about someone who should be in a twelve-step program,"
I said.
    Meghan grimaced. "If only."
    The door to the Gold Leaf was open, spilling rock `n' roll onto
the quiet street. Inside the doorway, a large tattooed man perched
on a stool far