Line Dancing Can Be Murder (8 page)

“Right,” she mumbled.

I had no idea why I was making excuses for those two. I’d be royally pissed if they disappointed her. My intuition told me to be prepared to add them to my
dog
list.

The drive through Idaho was beautiful with its wheat fields, majestic mountains, and herds of horses everywhere we looked. Wayne stopped in Idaho Falls at a pretty park filled with birdsong and the soothing sounds of a rippling creek. When he and Keith spread a lunch worthy of kings upon the picnic tables, we were impressed—and hungry.

“I wouldn’t mind being fifty again,” Joyce said, as we wolfed down sandwiches, potato salad, chips, and fresh fruit.

“What would you do differently if you had a do over?” I asked.

“I’d probably accept my boyfriend’s proposal all those years ago. As it is, we’ve been together nineteen years and I don’t see a reason to get married now.”

“You’ve had a boyfriend for nineteen years?” Kim asked, almost choking on a pickle. Nine more years of living with Eddie without a marriage certificate and she’d be in the same boat.

“Yep,” Joyce answered, shrugging. “It’s worked out fine. He lives thirty miles away, so we’re not under each other’s feet all the time, and he can’t boss me around! If he tries, he knows he won’t be spending the night in my bed.”

We laughed, and I gave Joyce a high five.

“At this age, it’s better not to be married anyway, for tax purposes,” she said.

I noticed Kim’s gaze dipped to her lap. She suddenly seemed to have lost her appetite.

“Time for cake,” Keith interrupted, carrying a store-bought, but personally decorated cake with Annette’s name. He gingerly placed it on our picnic table. When he started singing the happy birthday song, everyone gathered around and joined in. I thought Annette might burst into tears. Wayne slipped a lighter from his pocket and set the few candles they’d stuck in the cake aflame.

“Make a wish and blow out the candles,” Norma said.

Annette closed her eyes, made a wish, and blew. Everyone clapped.

“What’d you wish for?” Keith asked, sidling a little too close for comfort.

Their gazes connected. Something in her flirtatious tone alarmed me when she answered, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Million Dollar Birthday

By the time we reached Jackson, it was raining and fifty-six degrees.

“It’s cold!” Crystal cried, wrapping her arms around herself as Keith and Wayne unloaded the luggage in front of the Antler Inn.

Jackie eyed the two-story log dwelling with suspicion. “This doesn’t look like a four-star hotel.”

“It’s one block from the town square,” Wayne said, “and steps from numerous restaurants, shops and art galleries. I think the inside will surprise you. The place is quite nice, even if there are actual elk antlers attached to the sign.”

“The world-famous Million Dollar Cowboy Bar is also within rolling distance,” Keith supplied.

Jackie turned her back on him, once again making me curious as what had happened between the two.

“I like it!” Annette said. “Looks rustic and completely charming. And I’ve heard of the cowboy bar. Can we go to it tonight?”

“You can do whatever you want while we’re in Jackson,” Keith said. “There’s nothing planned as a group except dinner at a local restaurant.”

“I’ve heard Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart own a home here,” Donna said.

Keith’s muscles bulged as he lifted suitcases and travel bags from the coach and carried them to a spot under a protected awning. “They do, but don’t hold your breath hoping to see them. They’re private people.”

I was searching through the sea of luggage for my bags when I saw Keith subtly motion to Donna with his finger. She stepped to him and he whispered something in her ear. Nonchalantly trying to eavesdrop was of no use. Their voices were low. The only words I caught were “finalize tonight” from him and “after dinner” from her.

When she and I unloaded our stuff into our room and freshened up, I wanted so bad to ask her what that conversation had been about. But she’d already warned me in that sweet way of hers to butt out. Instead, I commented on how clean the room was and how I liked the headboards that were made of twisted tree branches.

Luckily, all six of us had packed umbrellas, because it was still raining when we gathered to trek to the town square to check out the quaint shops. We hit almost every shop. Everything was too expensive for my wallet, but I splurged and bought a sweatshirt with
Jackson Hole, Wyoming
printed on the front since I hadn’t packed anything warm and I was freezing. The other girls bought at least one souvenir, with the exception of Jackie who juggled six bags of new clothes in her hands three hours later.

“Look at those arches formed out of elk antlers.” Donna pointed to the gigantic arches on the corners of the town square. The rain had finally stopped, and we were able to enjoy the authentic western town and its outdoor attractions.

“Anyone want to take a ride on the stagecoach?” I asked, noting a stage stop and an authentic red U.S. mail coach being driven by horses.

“I’d rather go see the cowboy bar,” Annette said.

“Whatever you want,” Kim replied. “It’s your birthday.”

Inside the nondescript wooden façade with the neon sign was a saloon that displayed the true atmosphere of the Wild West. Red carpet, cowboy memorabilia and murals, knobbled pine architecture, and barstools made of genuine leather saddles greeted us when we stepped into the dim interior. A stage for bands or dancing was at the far end of the building. Four guys in cowboy hats and baseball caps played at one of the pool tables. Only a few other customers lined the bar at that time of day.

“What’ll you have, ladies?” the bartender asked us. We all ordered a beer, except for Annette, who was a strict teetotaler.

“I’ll have a Coke,” she said, running her palm across the long polished bar.

“This bar is embellished with five hundred and ninety-two silver dollars,” the bartender said. He pointed to the coins embedded in the wood.

“Do you have live music?” Kim asked.

“Do we ever. Some of the best country musicians have played here. Waylon Jennings, Glen Campbell, Tanya Tucker, Hoyt Axton, Willie Nelson… You name them, they’ve played here.” He set glasses of beer and Coke in front of us. “You ladies ought to come back tonight. There’s no live band on Sunday nights, but we’ll have jukebox music and you can dance to your heart’s desire.”

He’d mentioned the magic word. “We’re line dancers,” Jackie told him. “Maybe we’ll perform for your customers tonight, if you promise to pour us a free round of drinks.”

The bartender grinned, displaying a gap between his front teeth. “My customers would enjoy a live performance by such a comely group of ladies. It’s a promise.”

“I like this place,” Annette said, gazing around.

“It’s her birthday today,” Crystal told the bartender.

“Happy birthday, ma’am. That Coke is on the house. You all stop by later tonight and we’ll help you celebrate. Won’t we, boys?” He glanced at the men playing pool. One of them mumbled, “Hell, yeah.”

“We will. Thank you,” Annette replied with a smile.

~ * ~

During dinner, Annette invited everyone from our tour to join us at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar at nine o’clock to see us dance and to celebrate her birthday. Some of the more adventurous seniors accepted the invitation, including the five amigas. By the time nine o’clock arrived, however, only three women were still gung ho to accompany us.

The neon sign outside the bar was lit up when we arrived, and a dozen motorcycles were parked along the street.

“Do you think there might be a rumble tonight?” Doris asked, causing us to chuckle. She and her daring friends followed us inside.

The place was jam-packed and jumping with music, people playing pool, and raucous chatter. The same bartender from the afternoon waved to us when he saw us.

“I was hoping you ladies meant it when you said you’d be back tonight. As you can see, we have a full crowd waiting to watch you dance.”

“Where’d they all come from?” Donna asked, glancing around at the bikers, cowboys, and a couple of men who looked like fish out of water in their suits and ties.

“Jackson is a small town, ma’am. Word gets around fast, especially when pretty ladies are involved.”

“I’m nervous,” Crystal admitted, glimpsing at the roughnecks lining the bar. “What if they don’t like us and boo us off the stage?”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “That’s not going to happen. Most of these guys are already drunk from the looks of it. They’d probably whistle at dogs dressed in tutus.”

“Are you comparing us to dogs?” Crystal said, planting her hands on her wide hips.

“Please stop fussing with each other,” Annette said. “I want to have a drink and then dance.” She gently squeezed her way between two men sitting at the bar and flashed them her best beauty pageant smile. “Excuse me, gentlemen. It’s my birthday today and I’d like a drink. Please pour me a glass of wine, bartender.”

“Coming up, little lady. Would you like Chardonnay or Merlot?”

“Surprise me.”

“One of your golden ales for the rest of us,” Jackie said. “And remember your promise about a free round.”

No one seemed surprised or concerned that Annette was drinking alcohol except me. In a lifetime of knowing her, I’d never seen her drink, not even on New Year’s Eve. In Vegas, she’d left the strawberry daiquiri ordered by the amigas sit untouched. Her father had died of alcoholism when she was twelve, and she’d always been afraid the disease was hereditary, so she stayed away from it. I watched closely as she downed the glass of Merlot the bartender placed in front of her.

“Another one, please,” she said, licking her lips. “That stuff is good.”

The bartender handed her another glass, and she gulped it like a goldfish. I nearly toppled a man off his stool shoving my way next to her. “Annette, don’t you think you ought to slow down? You’ve never had wine before. You don’t know how it’ll affect you.”

“Affect me? I’m fifty and I feel wonderful, Teresa! Don’t I look wonderful?” she asked the man on one side of her.

“You look good enough to eat.” His wolfish expression scared even me. When he slapped Annette on the butt and she squealed, I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the bar. “Time to dance,” I said.

“Oh, goodie.” She clapped her hands like a baby.

“Is she drunk already?” Jackie asked me, as the six of us moved toward the stage. Annette wobbled some.

“I think so. It doesn’t take much for a non-drinker. I just hope she doesn’t throw up. Kim, will you find us a good song on the jukebox?”

As soon as we lined up on the stage, the crowd cheered and clapped. I couldn’t help but smile. There we were, six broads almost fifty years old from an itty-bitty town in the Midwest about to dance in one of the most famous bars in the modern west. It was surreal. I looked up into the sea of faces, just as Brooks and Dunn’s
Boot Scootin’ Boogie
started blasting from the jukebox.

We all knew that dance so well we could have done it in our sleep. None of us made a misstep, not even Annette, tipsy as she was. When our performance was over, all hell broke loose. The men whooped and whistled and demanded an encore. We happily obliged and then took our final bows. To wild applause, we left the stage and pushed through the crowd of rowdy men while making our way to a table in the front of the room. When I looked for our senior friends, it appeared they’d left. I doubted it was their kind of scene. I wasn’t even sure it was my kind.

“Nice job, ladies,” the bartender said, delivering a tray of drinks to us. “Beers on the house for you five and another Merlot for the birthday girl.”

I frowned. “Wouldn’t you rather have a Coke?” I asked Annette.

“She’s only turning fifty once in her life,” Jackie said, smacking my hand. “Let her have some fun. God knows she never has a moment of pleasure except for when she’s with us. Bruce and Dustin have all but crushed her spirit.”

“Damn men,” Annette slurred. “They didn’t even call to wish me a happy birthday.”

Before I could get a word in edgewise, Annette sucked down the wine like it was a Slurpee drink. Suddenly, Keith appeared at the table, halting our conversation. Smelling fresh and soapy, his blond hair was still damp, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. Wisps fell across his forehead and over his eyes in a sexy way. I hated to admit it, but he looked pretty hot in a blue chambray shirt, tight jeans and cowboy boots. Despite his looks, or maybe
because
of them, he made me nervous.

Crystal’s eyes lit up. “Keith! Won’t you join us?”

His carefree gaze flitted around the table. “Don’t mind if I do.” He pulled out a chair next to Annette, flipped it around, and straddled it.

“Too bad you weren’t here a few minutes earlier,” Crystal said. “You just missed our show.”

“Dang it. That’s the reason I came.”

“Maybe another time,” Kim said, sipping her beer.

I noticed Jackie’s gaze was stuck to the glass cradled in her hands. When Keith nodded at Donna in a knowing way, she smiled. Crystal’s cheeks flamed when he winked at her. None of us seemed immune to his charms, except me. For some reason, I wasn’t a woman he paid particular attention to.

“Looks like you’re having a good time,” he said to Annette, snuggling close to her shoulder.

“Oh, yes. This is the best birthday ever.” She giggled like a love-struck teenager.

Jackie unexpectedly bolted up from her chair. “I’m going back to the motel.”

“Wait. You can’t walk back by yourself in the dark,” I said.

“Then come with me if you want. Either way, I’m leaving now.” Her mouth pressed into a fine line, and she shot daggers at Keith and pushed away from the table and marched toward the door.

“Hold on, Jackie!” Torn between staying to watch over Annette and walking back to the Antler Inn with Jackie, I glanced around the table wishing that someone else, for once, would take charge.

“Go with her.” Kim nudged my arm. “We’ll finish our drinks and be back soon. I think birthday girl has had about enough partying for one night, anyway.”