Drue nursed her drink slowly. Twenty minutes passed. Roy Rogers returned. “Get you another?” He pointed to Drue’s drink, the ice now melted. She didn’t want another drink. What she wanted was to talk to Neesa about Jazmin Mayes and then get the hell out of here. She glanced toward the end of the bar. Neesa’s new friend was handing her a bottle of Jägermeister, which Neesa upended into her open mouth. The man laughed uproariously, leaned down and stuck his tongue down her throat. Another man approached and tugged at his arm. Neesa’s boyfriend tossed some bills on the bar and walked away, leaving Neesa pouting with only an empty liquor bottle for company.

“Maybe just a club soda with double lime?” she told Roy Rogers. She didn’t dare order another drink. It was a long drive back to Sunset Beach, and the last thing she needed was to get pulled over for DUI.

She was sipping her drink and plotting her next move when the decision was made for her.

“Hey.” Neesa plopped down on the bar stool that had just been vacated. She poked Drue’s arm with a long tapered fingernail. “Girl, I seen you staring at me down there. Do we know each other?”

Neesa’s eyes were glassy, her words slightly slurred. From her long career working in bars, Drue concluded the girl was, clinically speaking, shit-faced. Drunk and, most likely, high.

“I don’t think so,” Drue said. “I was fascinated with your hair. It’s really pretty. Do you color it yourself?”

Neesa’s laugh was a throaty bray. “Nah, girl. This here is a wig.” She lifted the bangs away from her forehead, just enough to reveal that her own hair was snugged against her scalp with a tight nylon skullcap.

“Oh wow. I wish I could pull off something like that. My hair is so boring.”

Neesa grabbed a strand of Drue’s long dark hair and examined it critically. “You got nice hair. Good texture. You could definitely go lighter. But don’t be trying none of that stuff out of a box. I could totally take you all the way blond.”

“Are you a hairdresser?”

The bartender was back, looking hopeful. “Get you ladies something else?”

“I’ll have another,” Drue said, seizing the opportunity. “And you can bring my friend here whatever she’s drinking.”

“Ooh. Thanks,” Neesa said. “I’mma change it up and just have a Kahlúa and coffee.”

She watched the bartender as he worked at the back bar. “He’s so fine,” she said, a little too loudly. “I do like a white boy with a good ass. How ’bout you?”

Drue almost choked on her club soda. “Same,” she said finally. “So, did you say you’re a hairdresser?”