She closed the car door. She paused and leaned in the window briefly. I thought she meant to say more, but she decided to let it ride. I watched her until the front door closed behind her and then I headed for the office. Once there, I typed up an invoice, billing Nord Lafferty the five hundred dollars a day for the two days I'd worked. I put the bill in an envelope, which I sealed and addressed. On the way home, I drove past the post office, where I slowed to a stop and dropped it in the box at the curb.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

For supper, I fixed myself a hot hard-boiled-egg sandwich slathered with mayo and heavy on the salt, vowing in a vague and insincere way to rectify my diet, which is woefully short of fruits, vegetables, fiber, grain, and nutrition of any sort. I'd intended to make an early night of it, but by seven I was feeling restless for reasons I couldn't name. I decided on a quick trip to Rosie's, not so much for the bad wine as a change of scene.

To my surprise, the first person I saw was Henry's older brother Lewis, who lives in Michigan. He stood behind the bar with his suit jacket off, his arms bare to his elbows and plunged in soapy water while he washed assorted glasses and beer mugs. I crossed to the bar, saying, "Well, this is a surprise. Where did you come from?"

He looked up with a smile. "I flew in this afternoon. William picked me up at the airport and put me straight to work."

"What brings you to town?"

"Nothing in particular. I needed a change. I came up with the plan on the spur of the moment. Charlie was busy and Nell wasn't in the mood, so I booked a seat and made the trip by myself. Travel's invigorating. I'm full of beans," he said.

"Well, good for you. That's great. How long will you be here?"

"Until Sunday. William and Rosie are putting me up. That's why he's teaching me to tend bar, so I can earn my keep."

"Does Henry know you're here?"

"Not yet, but I'll call him as soon as William lets me take a break."

He rinsed the last of the beer mugs and set it on a rack to drain, then dried his hands on the white towel he'd tucked in his waist. He put a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of me and shifted into bartender mode. "What are you drinking? If memory serves, you prefer Chardonnay."

"Better make that a Coke. Rosie's changed Vintners,' though the term hardly applies. The wine she's serving has all the subtlety of solvent."