Page 58 of Killer Honeymoon

“Me too.”

Their conversation had taken a sadder turn than Royce had intended, so he steered them back to their mission. “Let’s hope we can find people who know Todd Browning.”

“Better yet, let’s hope Todd’s lips loosened like everyone else’s when plied with enough liquor. Bet he knows what Moore’s killer was looking for.”

“Ifhe’s not the killer,” Royce countered.

Their conversation stalled when they arrived at Hooligan’s. They had to shout to hear one another over the loud music, which Royce thought might prohibit them from discreetly inquiring about the captain, his habits, and his potential whereabouts. Royce noticed Sawyer tipped the bartender handsomely before they looked for an open table.

“The squeaky wheel gets the grease,” Sawyer said as they sat down. “And money speaks louder than words.”

The cacophony of thumping music and loud voices meant they’d have to shout to talk, so they sipped their beers, cuddled into each other, and watched the crowds. A waitress named Cecily stopped by a short time later to see if they wanted another beer or to order food. They’d decided to drink slowly, so they were only halfway through their first bottles but ordered an appetizer platter with mozzarella sticks, potato skins, fried mac and cheese bites, and chicken wings. When she returned with their order, the DJ had turned down the music because trivia was about to get underway.

“Would you guys like to play?” Cecily asked when she came out with their food. “I can grab the cards and pencils for you quickly.”

“Nah,” Royce said. “We’re looking for a different kind of entertainment. Maybe you can help us.”

Cecily’s brows went up, and she took a half step back. Sawyer kicked Royce under the table, and he immediately realized his error. Cecily was bracing herself for a proposition.

“We’re looking for Todd Browning,” Royce said.

Her eyebrows rose higher, and she ping-ponged her gaze between them. “Todd? I didn’t know he, um…”

Royce bit back a curse. He was screwing this up royally.

“Todd told us about a high-stakes poker game,” Sawyer said. “He invited us to join, but we’ve been unable to reach him.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cecily said. “Todd brags about those games when he drinks. From what I understand, those games are exclusive. I’ve never heard of them inviting additional players.”

“Really?” Royce said, infusing his voice with disappointment. “He said he’d have to talk it over with the other three members but was sure they wouldn’t mind adding a few chairs at the table.” Royce looked at Sawyer. “Who did he say the other players were?”

“A guy named Moore and one named Jerry.”

“Gary,” Cecily said. “And the mayor too. Many have tried to get in on those games, but none have been invited.”

“Really?” Sawyer asked. “I wonder why Todd thought we’d be different.”

Cecily studied them again before shrugging. “I’d say you should ask Todd, but you’re not the only ones who can’t find him.”

Royce wanted to ask who else was looking for the bartender, but it would’ve been suspicious. So instead, he said, “Is there anyone here who might be able to give us an idea where to find him?”

“He and the bartenders are pretty tight, which has helped him out on more than one occasion,” Cecily said. “He tends to flirt with any girl who catches his eye, even if she’s already taken. The man’s ego is as big as the rest of his body.” Something in her tone betrayed a familiarity with Todd that extended beyond taking his drink order. A previous conquest, perhaps? Or maybe she’d just witnessed him in action enough times. “Alex will be taking a break soon, and I can ask him to come over if you want.”

“Sure,” Royce said. “We’d appreciate it.”

Cecily headed back toward the bar. Royce and Sawyer watched her round the long stretch of wood and walk up to Alex. She rose on her tiptoes, and he bent his head closer. Alex’s eyes shifted in their direction as she spoke. When Cecily stepped back, Alex gave them a subtle nod before returning his attention to the customer in front of him.

“Tipping well paid off,” Sawyer said.

“We won’t know until we start asking questions.”

Then they dug into the food and momentarily forgot about their mission.

“Honeymoon calories don’t count, right?” Sawyer asked after he demolished a second mozzarella stick.

Royce checked the chicken bone in his hand to ensure he’d gotten all the delectable meat. “Nope.” He dropped the bone onto his plate and wiped his mouth. “Besides, we’re going to burn lots of energy tomorrow.”

“Yeah? You have big plans for me?”