Dead Ringer Read Free

starved,” Maggie said.
    “ I’ve gotta go. See ya.” Stephanie jumped from the barstool, wiggling her ass for Nick when her feet hit the floor.
    “ Kinda young,” Maggie said as the redhead flowed out the door.
    “ Journalism student at Cal State.” Nick gave her his sloppy smile, ran a hand through his shocking white hair.
    “ Pretty,” Maggie said.
    “ She has the fire.”
    “ What do you mean?”
    “ It’s like she’s totally focused, energy all flowing in one direction and Heaven help anyone who gets in her way.”
    “ And where’s all this energy flowing to?”
    “ A network anchor desk someday. I’d bet on it. But right now it’s flowing toward a group of high school kids who are selling big time drugs over at Wilson High School. She’s gone undercover to make a drug buy. We’re doing the story this afternoon, filming the bust live.”
    “ How come you didn’t tell me?”
    “ I didn’t want to worry you. I was going to tell you later, after it was over.”
    “ You were gonna stand me up?” She looked into his eyes.
    “ Gordon’s coming in at 3:00. He was going to keep you company till I got back. I’m sorry you came in early, I wanted to surprise you with the story on the idiot box up there.” He pointed to the flat screen mounted above the giant mirror behind the bar.
    “ Surprise?”
    His cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Nesbitt.” He listened for a few seconds, then, “I’ll be right there.” He slid off the barstool.
    “ You’re leaving?”
    “ Gotta go. I’ll be back to watch the Six O’Clock with you. Don’t dance Gordon’s legs off.” Then he was out the door.
    “ You two not fighting, are you?” It was Richard McPartland, AKA Skinny Dick, the bartender. He was a wisp of a man, thin but wiry, strong the way ex-cons are. He was bald, with saucers for eyes and a smile that opened up under a thick white mustache. He was sliding into sixty and had spent most of his adult life behind bars for this or that, he’d say, but he’d been going straight for the last five years and was the best bartender on the Coast. Ask him, he’d tell you.
    “ No, we never fight.” Maggie climbed up on the barstool Nick had vacated.
    “ The usual.” He set a rum and Coke in front of her. That’s what made him so good. He remembered you, remembered your drink. You didn’t have to order here, Richard knew what you wanted before you did and he had it down on the bar before you could raise your hand for his attention. He knew your limit, too. No drunks allowed in the Menopause Lounge.
    “ You read my mind.” Maggie picked up her drink.
    “ I got a good shoulder if you need it,” he said.
    “ I’m okay. I’m just gonna nurse this and wile away the time till Gordon gets here.”
    “ Alright, but you wanna talk, gimme a shout.”
    “ Thanks, Richard, I’ll remember that.” She sipped at the drink and Dick went to wait on a guy in a three piece suit who had just come in and sat at the opposite end of the bar.
    She set the drink down, fished her iPhone from her bag and tapped on a contact.
    “ International Off Road Magazine,” Ron Cook, her boss, answered on the first ring.
    “ Somehow I knew I’d catch you there.”
    “ Maggie, you never call in on Saturday. What’s up?”
    “ I need some time off. A week, maybe two, starting now.”
    “ Kevin and Mike are both still on vacation, that’s gonna make it kind of rough around here.” Ron had a whine in his voice. He never said no, he just whimpered and acted hurt till he got his way. He didn’t want to give her the time, not now, and Maggie understood.
    “ I’ll do the Sara Hackett piece when I get back.”
    “ Enjoy your vacation.” All of a sudden he was Mr. Nice Guy. He’d been after her for over a year to do a story on Sara, till now she’d resisted. She hadn’t been ready, she still wasn’t, but she couldn’t hide from her fear, from Sara, forever.
    “ Thanks, Ron.” Maggie hung