“If you don’t tell me, my friend,” David said through clenched teeth, “I guarantee your life will be in danger.”
“It’s against regulations,” Lee hedged.
“Hang regulations! I know the regulations. And you know I won’t endanger your life if I can help it.”
“I’ll need a few days to make some arrangements. Then I’ll tell you,” Lee answered.
“When?” David demanded. “I need to know.”
“Soon.”
“Dammit, Lee, how soon?” David demanded. “Tessa doesn’t have much time.”
“Neither do I,” Lee muttered. He stared at a point over David’s shoulder. “Damn! She’s seen you.”
“Who?”
Lee looked to his right and nodded. “Myra.”
“Oh, hell.” David barely got the words out of his mouth before the owner of the Satin Slipper approached him.
“Hello, lawyer man.” Her voice was whiskey-rough, calculated to entice. “What brings you here this early in the afternoon?” She moved closer to David until she was almost standing beneath his arms. “I see you’re not drinking.” Myra eyed Lee disapprovingly.
“I’ve only been here a few minutes,” David said. “I’m waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.”
“Coffee?” Myra ran her right hand down the front of David’s shirt, her scarlet fingernails tracing the threads around one buttonhole. “Lawyer man, you know I don’t make any money serving coffee.” She turned to Lee. “Pour the man some scotch.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lee hurried to comply.
“I don’t want scotch,” David said. “It’s too early.”
“It’s never too early for good scotch,” Myra scoffed. “Besides, it’s on the house, lawyer man.” She moved her hand upward until the scarlet nail of her index finger reached his chin. “Anything else you want?”
David shrugged his shoulders. “Not today. Sorry.”
Myra’s eyes narrowed. “Not today, not tonight, not ever.” She withdrew her hand from his face. Smiling at David, she kissed the tip of her finger. “Could be you’re getting what you need elsewhere—from the little Irish girl.” She moved to touch her finger to his lips.
David reached out and intercepted her, the strong, lean fingers of his hand closing around the delicate bones of her right wrist. “What have you got against her, Myra?” David moved the pad of his thumb against her wrist, feeling the abrasion encircling it.
“I don’t have anything against her, lawyer man.” Taking encouragement from the movement of his thumb against her pulse, Myra rubbed herself against him. “I knew her brother while he was here in Peaceable. We were very close. It’s a shame he died so young.” She shuddered. “Horrible to think of him run down by a wagon. That’s why I gave the poor girl a job and a place to stay. I felt sorry for her.”
“I’m sure Miss Roarke appreciates your concern.” David loosened his grip on Myra’s wrist. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”
“You do that.” Myra stepped back. “You tell her for me.”
David released her arm.
“I’ll be here if you need me, lawyer man.” She blew him a kiss. “For anything. Anything at all.”
“Nice act,” David said when Myra moved out of earshot.
“Yep,” Lee agreed. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He set a cup of coffee down in front of David.
“Was Eamon Roarke run down by a wagon?” David sipped at the black coffee.
“Right in front of the detective agency. Witnesses said the driver fit Arnie Mason’s description.”
“You think Arnie Mason killed Tessa’s brother?”