Free A Good Killing by Allison Leotta

here, she comes to be noticed. Tight, tight jeans or itty-bitty skirts. That long blond hair all curled up like she spent the day at the hairdresser. Stilettos as tall as a beer bottle. Every man in this bar saw her.”
    He had to be describing someone else. Jody was a tomboy. When Jody went out with Anna, she usually wore the same clothes she’d had on all day: well-loved Levi’s and hiking boots. In the winter, she wore the same puffy red ski jacket she’d had for years. Her hair was long and blond, yes, but always tied back in a ponytail. Jody fell for bad boys but was pretty much one of the boys herself. But Anna remembered that Tammy had described her sister’s outfit the same way. Anna pulled a photo out of her purse: she and Jody hiking the Sleeping Bear Dunes last summer. She showed it to Grady.
    “This woman?” she asked.
    “Yeah. With a lot more eye shadow. And a Jim Beam in her hand.”
    Her sister drank whiskey? Anna digested his words. Okay, so Jody partied. She was a single, twenty-five-year-old woman. She was allowed to get dressed up and go flirt in bars. Just because Anna had never seen it didn’t mean there was anything wrong with it. She wondered if Jody hid that side of herself because she didn’t want her big sister to disapprove. The idea made her sad.
    “So what happened two nights ago?” Anna asked.
    “What happened every time she came in. She flirted with Coach Fowler.”
    “How do you mean, flirted?”
    Grady pushed his chair next to Anna’s and let his knee brush hers. He put his arm around the back of her chair and gazed meaningfully into her eyes. His thumb brushed her shoulder as he said in an exaggerated singsong, “You’re funny when you ask so many questions.”
    “Okay.” Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “We get it.”
    Grady smiled, removed his hand, and pushed his chair back.
    “Look, I don’t blame her. The coach was the closest thing we had to a celebrity. He used to come in two, three nights a week. Most every woman who stepped into my bar took a swing at him at least once.”
    “How did he respond?” Anna asked.
    “Everyone struck out—until Jody. That man has gotta be the most faithful husband in Michigan. Or something.”
    “What do you mean, until Jody?”
    “They hung out a couple times over the last few weeks. And Thursday night was completely different.”
    “How so?”
    “He got wasted. Sloppy drunk, like I’ve never seen him. Most nights, he could drink all night and still walk straighter than me.”
    “Do you know how many drinks he had? Is there a tab?”
    “No. We always comped the coach. As long as he was in here, so was everybody else.”
    “Do you remember what he was drinking?”
    “What he always did. Jim Beam, neat. Four, five, six in a night.”
    “And you’d let him drive home after all those drinks?”
    “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He wagged his finger. “Don’t look at me. He made it home all those nights. Only night he didn’t was the night your sister drove him.”
    “So what happened that night?”
    “He was stumbling drunk. Could barely keep his head up. Ihelped her get him to the car. That was a little after ten o’clock. She drove his Corvette.”
    “Did they fight or argue about anything?”
    “No. They seemed very happy with each other.”
    “Where were they going?”
    Grady gave her a grim smile. “When a young lady and a married man leave together, I don’t ask ’em where they’re going. Let’s just say I doubt she was taking him home to his wife.”
    “Did you see or hear from either of them after that?”
    “Next I heard was the news that Coach’s car crashed later that night.”
    “When did the police come talk to you?”
    “That afternoon—yesterday.”
    “Did they ask you anything I haven’t asked yet?”
    “They asked if I’m willing to testify about this in court.”
    “Are you?”
    “Of course. I’m just a simple, law-abiding bartender.” He stood. “Gotta get back to work. Tell your sister to stop