Free Graveyard Games by Sheri Leigh Page B

counter where her French fries now sat. "Can I
get you anything, Shane?"
    He grinned. "Not unless you recently started
selling alcohol."
    "Not here.” Nellie frowned, tucking her pen
behind her ear. “Try the Starlite. Isn’t it about time you parked
your behind over there anyway?”
    Dusty sipped her root beer, staying out of
what she knew was coming—Nellie was a teetotaler, an AA addict.
    “ I could hop on over there
for you.” Shane taunted her. “Want me to bring you back a
beer?”
    "Lee Williams ought to be fined, the way he
lets the kids drink." She patted at her hair, once a luxurious
blonde and now beginning to turn a soft white.
    Dusty hid a smirk. It was true that they’d
been able to drink at the Starlite long before they’d turned
twenty-one, and everyone just looked the other way. Kids will be
kids. The “Just Say No” and D.A.R.E. campaign never made inroads
into their rural community.
    “ I turned twenty-one a few
years ago, sweetheart.” Shane laughed. “Besides, you know that's
why he gets more traffic than you do from the locals. They prefer
beer with their chicken wings and fries. Why don’t you get a liquor
license, Nellie?”
    "Shane Curtis," she said, hands on her hips.
"I happen to be the best restaurant in town, and at least I'm not
stooping to doing anything illegal."
    "You're the only restaurant in
town.” Shane leaned casually on the counter. “And if Buck Thompson
is willing to look the other way if Lee lets eighteen-year-olds
drink, then why not? It's sure not hurting his business
any."
    "It's just wrong, that's why not," Nellie
replied, her eyes blazing.
    Shane snorted. “Come off it. So Buck
Thompson gets free drinks, and the guy who checks Lee’s liquor
license is shown a good time. It’s the way the world works.”
    “ Not my world,” Nellie
retorted. Dusty was watching them, back and forth, like a tennis
match.
    “ No?” Shane’s smile was a
small, cynical thing. “Then why do you hire kids under sixteen
without work permits? If I remember right, little Joe Turner’s just
thirteen, isn’t he? Wasn’t he working behind your counter all
summer?”
    "That’s different," Nellie told him after a
moment's hesitation. Dusty saw her jaw working. "And it's none of
your business either."
    "Uh-huh,” Shane replied. “Pot. Kettle.
Black. Ring a bell?”
    Nellie was so angry she was turning red.
"Shane, I want you—"
    "Out of here, and never come back, I know, I
know." He held his hands up in a warding-off gesture. "Don’t get
your panties in a bunch, all right?”
    He slid off the stool, still smiling. “Be
seeing you, Dusty." He nodded in her direction and then strolled
out the door, tucking his hands in his pockets.
    "That kid." Nellie made a face. “Him and his
brother—just like their father. Talk about pots and kettles.”
    “ But it's true." Dusty
turned away from the door to look at Nellie. "Isn't it?"
    Nellie stared at her and then sniffed.
“There’s true, and then there’s true.”
    Dusty stared back at her until Nellie
averted her eyes, looking toward the kitchen as if she’d heard
something there to draw her attention.
    “ I wouldn’t want the
Starlite’s clientele anyway.” Nellie narrowed her eyes as she
looked at Shane standing outside. “And you know, I wouldn’t put it
past Lee to hire someone underage to work for him, now that Honey
Moore’s got herself in trouble.”
    "What happened to Honey?" Dusty asked,
referring to Lee's former often-sought-after waitress.
    "Little bit pregnant is what I hear," Nellie
said in a stage-whisper. "Wouldn't surprise me that Lee himself is
the daddy, but she didn't stick around long enough for us to find
out, of course."
    "Really?" Dusty asked, but
her interest turned toward the big picture window in the front of
the restaurant. She saw Shane outside in front of Cougar's talking
to Billy. He looked, except for his pale complexion, vigorously
healthy standing there in his leather. She found herself