Free The Death in the Willows by Richard; Forrest Page A

case,” Rocco said, “what are we supposed to liaison about?”
    â€œGot me. They just want me up here. Told me to keep a low profile and an eye on Wentworth.”
    â€œBecause most of the witnesses are dead?”
    The detective shrugged. “Something like that.”
    â€œIt might not be a bad idea to keep low for a while, Lyon.”
    â€œThat’s what our people thought,” Hilly said as he located a battered cigarette lighter, which he tried to work, to no avail.
    â€œNot necessarily so,” Lyon said. “We don’t know the motive behind the destruction of the bus. One thing I do know is that I do not possess any information that would justify anyone making an attempt on my life.”
    Sergeant Hilly’s face curved into a smile. “Okay, Wentworth. You’re on home turf and outa’ our jurisdiction. Come on, tell me. It was your gun that you used to blow away the bastard, wasn’t it?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou saw who slipped it to you?”
    â€œHe was behind me.”
    â€œYou’d recognize him?”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œMaybe he doesn’t know that.”
    â€œWe’re not even sure if there is a connection between the man who gave me the gun and all else that happened.”
    â€œDoesn’t hurt to be safe,” Rocco said. “Why don’t you and Bea take a vacation? To Bermuda? In fact, don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
    â€œBea’s in the midst of a primary fight—impossible.”
    â€œThat’s what I was afraid of. Come on, let’s get some lunch.”
    Sarge’s Bar was squeezed between two clapboard three-family homes in a predominantly residential area. The local zoning board defended this nonconformity by using as their defense that when Sarge Renfroe applied for a permit, they couldn’t understand what he was saying. Since the board met at eight in the evening, and Sarge was rarely decipherable after seven, this could very well be true.
    Rocco parked and turned to Hilly in the rear seat. “Not much to look at, but he serves a generous roast beef sandwich at a good price.”
    Hilly looked at the bar’s facade with an arched eyebrow. “You country cops got it made. They don’t like us going into places like this unless we’re working vice.”
    â€œHuh?” Rocco turned toward the front of the building. His mouth gaped open as he vaulted from the car to examine the large banner draped across the front of the building. “Oh, my God!”
    GRAND OPENING
    SARGE’S TOPLESS FROLICS
    Inside, they saw that the liquor bottles and streaked mirror had been removed from behind the bar to make room for a small runway. Speakers on either side blared loud disco while a topless dancer in bikini panties gyrated awkwardly. The booths and bar stools had been ripped out and piled in the backyard and were replaced by a mass of small tables and straight chairs. The former regulars sat sullenly in a far corner clutching their draft beers.
    â€œRenfroe!” Rocco’s voice cut over the loud music. Sarge, who had been leaning against the ancient cash register admiring the dancer, jerked erect and turned to wave a damp bar cloth at Rocco. “Come over here, Renfroe.”
    â€œI appreciate you guys showing me the high spots of Murphysville,” Hilly said, “but I can get this stuff better in Times Square.”
    Lyon thought of Wobblies and wondered if they were sitting in the police cruiser outside with disapproving glares. “This is a new addition,” he finally managed to say without laughing aloud.
    Rocco and Sarge were now by the door where Rocco’s finger shook under the cowering retired noncom’s nose.
    â€œYou got no right!” Sarge’s voice rose over the music.
    â€œGirl on the stage can’t dance,” Hilly said, “but she’s got a good bod.”
    â€œThat’s Katty