“Rolf Lockhart.”
“Rolf? That’s not a name you hear every day.”
“No. It’s old—a family name.”
“Haven’t seen you in here before, Rolf.” I made friendly chitchat because that’s what bartenders did and because something about the man drew me in. My immediate, visceral response to him upset my careful composure, and not in a good way. My defenses snapped into place, and my suspicion flipped into high-alert mode.
“Haven’t been here before. I’d ask how long you’ve been around, but I can tell by your accent that it hasn’t been very long. You’re a southern girl, yes?”
“Yes,” I said and cursed my ingrained twang. If I concentrated, I could neutralize my accent, but Rolf had caught me off guard. I finished pouring his beer, careful to stack the Guinness above the paler Bass without mixing the two.
“Whereabouts?” Rolf paused to sip his beer. “I have family in Mississippi.”
“Uh, no. I’m not from Mississippi.”
A woman beside Rolf yelled for a Heineken. I drew a cold bottle from the cooler and poured it into a frosted glass. She gave me a ten and I passed back her change.
“But I’m sure it’s nice,” I said.
Rolf’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “That’s debatable.”
I shrugged and scooted past him, heading for a customer waving at me from farther down the bar.
“You still haven’t told me where you’re from,” Rolf said when I returned to pour a pint for another customer.
Sure, I had a fake back story, but explaining it to Rolf only invited him to ask more questions. I humored Nikka and Tre’s inquiries to an extent because I needed them, and they had befriended me. But that guy… I owed him nothing, and my instincts said to push him away quickly. I remembered a quote in my latest spy thriller, the words of Eugene V. Debs: “‘I have no country to fight for. My country is the earth. I am a citizen of the world.’”
The bar’s population swelled after that, and Nikka and I hustled to keep up with the increasing orders. Too harried to maintain our idle chit-chat, I put Rolf out of my thoughts and focused on work.
Later, near midnight, Nikka grabbed me and pulled me aside during a lull. “I knew that guy down there looked familiar.” She nodded at Rolf. “It just hit me where I saw him last.”
I snatched a couple of empty glasses off the bar and set them in a bus tray. “Where?”
“The diner. Remember I told you some guy was staring you down like he knew you… or wanted to eat you… or both, maybe?”
My gaze shot to Rolf, who looked back at me as though he knew he was the topic of our conversation.
“Him? Are you sure?” I asked.
“Does he look like the kind of guy I would easily mistake for someone else?”
Rolf’s black hair hung in a glossy sheet, almost brushing his shoulders. He had the pale skin of a northern European rather than the darker tones I was used to seeing around that area, especially with hair like that. His eyes were so vibrantly blue they seemed purple in the neon bar lights. Elizabeth Taylor had had eyes like that. “What the hell, Nikka? How did he know I was here?”
“Luck?” She shrugged. “Coincidence.”
“Coincidence and I don’t get along very well.”
A shiver rolled up my spine and broke in cold waves across my shoulders. Coincidence equaled monumental trouble in my world. Compounded by the strange incident on my fire escape the night before, the appearance of this would-be stalker set my nerves on edge—not that they weren’t there already.
“Nikka, can you handle things here for a second? I need to go talk to Tre.”
Nikka shrugged. “Sure. I got it.”
I rounded the end of the bar and pushed my way through the throngs of fans swaying to the jam band’s music. I tuned out the distractions and set my sights on Tre’s hulking dark figure, guarding the entrance to the bar. A smile lit his face when he saw me coming. Outside, the crowd’s roar dropped to a dull murmur.
“How’s it going in there?” Tre asked.
“Not too bad. Mostly, they’re behaving.”
“So you just came out to visit me?”
“Not entirely. I came to tell you I thought of a way for you to earn that banana pudding.”
Tre’s bright smile widened. “Oh yeah?”
“There’s a guy in there. He’s been polite and well behaved, but he gives me the creeps.”
“You want me to tell him to get lost?”
“No.” No need to draw any more attention to myself or this odd situation. I described Rolf to Tre and said, “Just watch him for me, will you? In case he tries anything?”
Tre nodded. “I’d do that for you anyway. It’s my job. But I’m not going to look a gift banana pudding in the mouth.”
Rolf had drained the last of his second beer by the time I returned. I refilled his drink without comment and spent the rest of the night trying to avoid him. At some point I looked up and found an empty space where he had been sitting. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and a coil of tension eased in my chest.
Tre parted the crowd and caught my eye. When I finished serving my latest customer, I stepped down to the end of the bar where Tre waited. I leaned close so I could hear him.
“Your buddy took off down the street. No trouble. Didn’t look back. Still, I’d like to walk you up to your apartment tonight—check it out and make sure you don’t have any unwelcome guests waiting for you.”
