A fortyish woman came in from the restaurant side of the bar. She was dressed impeccably in a classy cocktail dress, white with black trim, her dark-blond hair molded up around her head in one of those sleek, twisty styles that Sean marveled at.

She walked right over to Clemson and sat down. She looked irritated. She said something. Sean couldn’t hear any of their conversation, and he wished Lucy were here, because she was much better at reading lips.

He took out his phone, pretended to text, and took a couple pictures, shooting into the mirror. He didn’t use his flash and the images were on the dark side, but he could enhance them to get a good view of the woman.

The woman did most of the talking. She didn’t smile, didn’t look like she wanted to be there at all. Less than a minute later she rose, said one thing to Clemson with her back turned to Sean, and returned to the restaurant half of the establishment without a look at anyone else in the bar.

Clemson looked more worried now than he did when Sean came in.

Sean said to the bartender, “Send that poor guy over there another drink, on me.” He put a twenty down on the bar. “Looks like his girlfriend just dumped him.”

The bartender gave Sean a half grin, then brought the drink over to Clemson. A minute later, Clemson came over and sat next to Sean. “Thanks.”

“You look like your dog died or your girl left. I know how both feel. Though I miss my dog more.”

“Dogs don’t give you bullshit.”

“Damn straight.” Sean tapped his mug against the whiskey glass. He wondered how many Clemson had before he got here.

Sean could get people to talk in a variety of ways, but with a guy like Clemson, who might be involved in something illegal and definitely was acting suspicious, the best way was just to let him talk on his own and gently push him along when there was an opportunity.

It took about two minutes. Sean drained his beer, said, “Thanks, buddy,” to the bartender, and got up to leave.

“Have another with me,” Clemson said.

Sean looked at his watch. “I guess I have a little time.” He sat back on the stool. “I’m Sean.”

“Robert.”

Clemson motioned for the bartender to get Sean a beer, but he was still nursing his whiskey.

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’ve been here a few times. Usually at the restaurant with my ex,” Sean said. “Love their veal parm. Since we split a couple months back, I now sit in the bar, especially after a shitty day at work.”

“What do you do?”

“Computer programmer.” He always stuck with a job that he could easily bluff.

“Smart guy.”

Sean shrugged. “It pays the bills. You?”