Free Murder Hooks a Mermaid by Christy Fifield Page B

secretly delighted when I found out we were pizza compatible.
    “Nice of you to say so.” I returned the salute and took a cautious drink of the hot spiked coffee.
    “And then there’s The Shark Tank. But nobody calls it that; it’s just The Tank if you’re a local.”
    “Haven’t been in there,” he said. “It’s good?”
    “It’s basically a tavern, and they serve tavern food,” I answered. “Fried fish, chicken strips, fries, the best onion rings around, and the best chowder in the state. No, really,” I added at his skeptical look. “They’ve won competitions. It’s down next to the dock, and it’s where the guys go after they unload a boat full of fish. It’s not fancy—some people would call it a dive—but it’s good, and the prices are reasonable.”
    The band finished their number, and the dance floor thinned. A few couples remained on the floor, as though not wanting to break the tenuous connection they had formed while shouting at each other over the pounding beat.
    As I watched the crowd filter back to their tables, I was reminded of the reason I’d wanted to come here in the first place. This was where Bobby hooked up with the divers who had hired him, and while I could understand clueless tourists looking for a charter—or a hookup—in a tourist bar, I couldn’t understand what Bobby was doing there in the first place.
    Or maybe I could. Because when the crowd thinned and I got a good look at the bar, I was pretty sure I knew what brought Bobby into Mermaid’s Grotto on a regular basis: Megan Moretti.
    When Megan and Bobby were in high school, she’d dated him for a while, mostly as a way to get closer to hisbig brother. But Riley and Karen were inseparable, and Megan had finally given up and dumped Bobby.
    I’d heard she’d married a guy from Jacksonville and moved over there a few years back. But now she was back, standing behind the bar in a tight leather vest that displayed two of her greatest assets. She had bottles in both hands, and there was no ring on her left hand.
    I wondered if she would remember me.
    Megan’s gaze swept the room, a practiced look that missed nothing. She’d been doing this for a while. She turned her head, looking past me, then snapped her head back. He eyes widened in recognition, and she handed the bottles to the other bartender. She said something over her shoulder, coming from behind the bar and heading directly for our table.
    “Glory! Glory, is it true? They really arrested Bobby?” Her voice was thick with emotion, her full lips trembling. Tears pooled in her dark eyes, threatening to spill over.
    She was still a beauty. Dark curls framed a face that could stop a man in his tracks, her olive complexion still as flawless as when she was voted Most Photogenic her senior year.
    I bit back the impulse to ask her if she really cared. She’d treated Bobby badly, broke his teenage heart, and left him convinced he would never be as good as his older brother.
    He’d spent the years since living down to that expectation. Not that it excused his behavior; lots of people managed to get over their teenage selves and become adults. Bobby wasn’t one of them, and Megan bore part of the blame.
    “It’s true,” I said, keeping my voice low.
    “What happened?” she asked. Concern creased her brow, a preview of what she would look like at fifty if a surgeon didn’t intervene. “Is there anything I can do? Can I see him?”
    I noticed she hadn’t asked about the rest of the family, including Riley. Maybe she had grown up in the last decade, even if Bobby hadn’t.
    “I can’t tell you much. Not here.” I glanced around at the nearby tables. A couple guys were watching us. Correction: they were watching Megan. And it was clear they weren’t interested in what she was saying .
    Megan nodded. “I get a break in about half an hour.” She looked down at our table. “I’ll send another round. If you’ll wait?”
    “Sure.” Jake spoke up, to my