She didn’t see any purpose in pursuing that though, so she said, “Can you meet me here? Same time tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? You work fast.”
“If I can save your friend another black eye, why not?”
Gale seemed to like the sound of that. She smiled as she agreed, “Yeah, I can do that.”
While Gale was walking out, Mal made his way to Margot’s table in the back of the small drinking establishment. He carried the beer he was drinking and freshly poured Maker’s Mark over ice for her. As he handed Margot her drink, the sleeve on Mal’s uncharacteristic long sleeve shirt rode up his arm, revealing a nasty bruise on his wrist.
“What happened to you?” Margot said as she pointed at the purple ring located where a watch would be if Mal ever wore one.
“Banged it against my weight bench. What did long tall Sally want?”
“Her name is Gale and she’s married if that is what you were thinking.”
“I wasn’t not thinking that. Tell me we’re tailing a cheating husband.”
“Nope,” Margot told him before laying out what they would be doing for Gale.
“If I was with the cartel, drawing you out to an isolated location would be an ideal way to put a bullet in you, or worse, torture you,” Mal warned her after she finished.
“Why would they torture me? It’s not like I know anything.”
“They’re going to assume you do. Even if they didn’t, they’d do it for fun or practice. That’s the way those guys like to roll. Either way, I’d better go along.”
“So, they torture or put a bullet in you too?” Margot replied after a sip of her whiskey.
The nice thing about meeting clients in a bar was she was already there when the work was done. Stan, the owner and bartender at Layla’s West, was getting to know her well enough he started pouring before she even asked.
“I was thinking I’d be the one putting bullets in people.”
“I did okay without you last time.”
“You got lucky.”
Margot couldn’t argue, the shotgun she used to defend herself wasn’t even hers, and if she had figured out the men driving the silver Chevrolet meant her harm a minute later than she did, the shotgun wouldn’t have been enough to save her.
“She feels wrong,” Mal said.
“Does she? I didn’t get that vibe. I’m going to check out her story anyway before I do anything.”
“So, does that mean you’re going to talk to your sister?”
“No, she wouldn’t talk to me and even if she would, she talks too much to keep it on the down-low.”
Mal nodded in agreement.
“Is it weird that Gale and your sister are friends?” Mal asked. “They almost have too much in common.”
“You mean their love for controlling abusive assholes?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not weird at all. Just like they find the assholes who will mistreat them, they find each other. Is it weird when junkies hang out with other junkies?”
“I see what you’re saying, but how often do two junkies just happen to live next door to each other?”
“I guess I’ll have to find out before I drive out to Dave’s trailer. Shouldn’t be too hard, I am a professional investigator.”