Page 75 of Go Back to December
She clears her throat deliberately. “Alicia, do you want to come with?”
I throw Lacy a grateful smile, silently vowing I’ll help her dispose of as many dead bodies as she needs.
Alicia cocks her head. “Oh, I think I’ll stay for a game.”
Dooley moves his large body to block Luiza’s view of the couch. “Lulu, care to be throttled? Metaphorically speaking, that is.”
She glares at him in disbelief, but when Dooley gives her a warning side-eye, she grumbles, “I’ll keep score.”
“Don’t you always.” He forces a smile, but it’s still pretty. I hope he knows what he’s doing with this game, because I sure as hell don’t understand the rules.
“Okay, Johnson versus Johnson.”
Dooley and Baz exchange conspiratorial nods.
“Mel, you’re with me,” Dooley says. “Alicia shoots first, then me, then Baz, then Mel.”
“Specific,” I murmur.
Dooley racks the table, and a server brings over a high-backed stool from the bar so Baz can rest in between shots. Luiza turns her leather throne toward the table and tracks our movements like a wildlife anthropologist. “Why is Melody going last?”
“Because she’s the best,” Baz replies.
He says it with confident authority, like he’s watched me play a million times.
“You break, Mel.”
Dooley’s skewed the rack to the right center of the table, leaving me only one place to set up: next to Baz’s stool. The distance between where I stand and where Baz sits is close enough for us to touch.
Raising my head, I throw Dooley a glare. “Team consultation.”
He gives me a dark smile as I haul him over to a corner.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Cleaning up my mess. Trust me, this will work.”
“Show me your ID.”
“Those are the stakes!”
“And did you want to let Alicia in on them, or is she already in the circle of trust?”
He frowns. “It will distract you.”
“I have an intense ability to focus.”
“Indeed,” he purrs.
“Show me, or I bail.”
With a sigh, he takes out his wallet. “This is extortion.”
“You would know, Money Guy.”
He lifts out the ID. “I’m trusting you with this information. Use it wisely.”
My fingers grab the license. The blurry government type reads:
