Free Double Shot by Cindy Blackburn

him.
    “The guy in sandals?” Karen asked. “That really does make him scary. Right, Jess?”
    Okay, so men in sandals is one of my pet peeves. And much to my chagrin, Clarence, North Carolina is a city chock-full of men in sandals. Trust me, they all look ridiculous.
    “What’s a quiet, unassuming guy like that doing at the Wade On Inn?” I asked. “He looks like he belongs in a library.”
    “He does,” Wilson said. “Kevin Cooper’s a librarian at the University.”
    “And Melissa Purcell’s a waitress at Hastie’s Diner,” Karen added as we moseyed our way back to Sullivan Street. “She invited us to visit her sometime.”
    Wilson squeezed my hand. “Don’t even think about it,” he said before addressing Karen. “Keep on Melissa’s good side? She’s been a regular out there for as long as Avis Sage. There might even be some history between her and Fritz.”
    “Right now she has her eyes on Spencer,” I said, and Karen asked if any woman didn’t.
    “He is incredibly handsome,” I agreed, but Candy begged to differ.
    “He’s creepy. He kept bragging about his wife’s money, at the same time that he’s hitting on me.” She wrinkled her nose.
    “Spencer Erring’s married to a very rich woman,” Wilson explained. “Dixie Wellington-Erring’s family owns that chain of high-end grocery stores.”
    “Wellington Market?” I asked. “They have a great selection of champagne.”
    “So how was playing with Mr. Incredibly Handsome?”
    I reported that Spencer’s a terrible player and an even worse gambler. “He lost a lot of money tonight.”
    “His wife’s money.”
    “The old ladies are also good at losing money,” I said. “They seem to take great pleasure in it.”
    “Ethel Abernathy and Doreen Buxton.” Wilson identified the old ladies and went on to name their sons, George Abernathy and Paul Buxton. “As in A and B Developers,” he said ominously, and we all grimaced.
    A and B is the largest real estate developer in the county. The company is always in the news or in court, fighting for permits to build this or that project. They seem bent on putting shopping malls and parking lots on every square-inch of open land.
    “And you’re right, Jessie,” Wilson continued. “Ethel and Doreen are working on losing every nickel of the family fortunes before they die.”
    “They’re just having fun,” I argued.
    “Those old ladies started showing up at that bar, and now we’ve got two murders on our hands.”
    “I can’t picture them tossing people into Shinkle Creek,” Karen said as we finally headed home.
    “Ethel and Doreen are nothing but trouble,” Wilson insisted. “Their sons built Cotswald Estates Retirement Home to keep them safe. But since Ethel still drives, the old ladies venture out to the Wade On Inn whenever the mood strikes.”
    “Who knows?” I said, feeling a sudden affection for the feisty old duo. “I might be tempted to do the same thing when I’m their age.”
    “Something I can look forward to,” Wilson mumbled.

Chapter 9
    Hard to imagine, but Puddles still had one more piddle left in him before we made it into our building. Even harder to fathom, Wilson still had the energy to nibble on my neck while I was trying to unlock my door.
    I might have giggled in my complete state of exhaustion, but when he reached out to help me with the door handle, the image of him guiding Tiffany Sass’s cue stick flashed before me.
    I slapped his hand away and twirled around. “I am tired,” I said firmly.
    “We need to talk, Jessie.” He pointed down the stairs where we had dropped off my neighbors. “Alone,” he added.
    I glanced at the stairwell. “Go to bed, Sweetie,” I called down. And sure enough, I heard Candy close her door.
    “You can make us some tea,” I said. I led him inside and collapsed on a barstool at my kitchen counter. “I really am tired.”
    He put on the kettle while I slipped off my shoes and gestured for Snowflake to join