I needed to ask for the owner, find out if they still had the footage from the night Len was attacked. With the new knowledge that she remembered the bus boy and the fact that we knew she was drugged, there had to be something in that footage. Whoever drugged her most likely was whoever tried to kill her. It was our best lead.

“I really think you should move home,” Mal said to Len, breaking the silence.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said sheepishly.

“Why not? Stay with me, safety in numbers. Besides, it was probably a prank.”

“Some small prank doesn’t involve threats being left at her door before a body is found in the middle of town,” I grumbled under my breath.

“I never asked you,” Mal said.

The waitress brought over our drinks, and Mallory forced Len to cheers before downing her margarita faster than I’d ever seen someone drink one. I was mildly impressed.

Tequila was never my choice of alcohol those long days I drank myself into oblivion, but I could appreciate a good margarita.

“What are you drinking?” Mal asked, scowling at my cup of water.

“Just water for me,” I said.

“No fun,” Mal pouted immediately.

“Someone has to stay sober to make the decisions around here,” I said with a shrug.

Mallory did not like that. Instead, she turned her body completely sideways, trying to block me out of the conversation. They caught up on life, and Mallory droned on and on about the tourists. I’d never met someone so judgmental in my life.

It wasn’t long before I found myself rolling my eyes, barely able to take her repetitive stories all about herself. It could keep her busy enough not to notice where I went. A perfect distraction.

“Excuse me. I am going to use the bathroom,” I said.

I headed for the sign to the restroom right past the bar. I paused at the counter, trying to catch the waitress behind it. She saw me and hurried right over.

I pulled out my wallet again and showed her my badge. In a low tone, I asked, “Is the owner here?”

She nodded, understanding I was trying not to cause a scene, likely not wanting that for the bar either.

“He lives above it, so he’s practically always in,” she whispered. “I’ll go grab him.”

I waited for a few minutes and realized I was just out of sight of the booth Len and Mal sat in, so she wouldn’t see me talking to the owner.

I didn’t trust Len’s friend, and I certainly didn’t trust her all-too-eager mouth not to gossip about what we were looking into.

The woman reappeared, this time with a man beside her. He hurried over and reached out a hand to shake to mine.

“Bob,” he introduced.