Simple Genius

“But on the other hand if Monk’s death is connected to Camp Peary and Ian Whitfield, then the lady might provide us with a shortcut. And as an added bonus, maybe I can find out who tried to kill me.”

The inside of the bar held an interesting mix of college kids and those who had to actually work for a living. Behind the old-fashioned bar, which looked straight out of the Cheers set, two young men and an older gent were filling drink orders as fast as their brains and hands would operate. Higher education was known to inspire great thirst, Sean thought.

There she was, at a high table in the back, near the pool tables. She already had her drink and was nimbly fighting off the advance of what looked to be a member of the William and Mary football team, a lineman judging by the young man’s heft. Not that Sean could blame the guy for trying. The lady’s skirt was short and the legs long, and the way the blond hair fell over the shoulders, spilling near the deep cleavage revealed by the plunge of her neckline, and the heat of those blue eyes bubbling just below the surface… Hell, if he’d been in college he could imagine moving heaven and earth to bed that prize. The bragging rights alone would’ve lasted the entire four years he’d be in school.

The guy wrote something down on a piece of napkin and handed it to her. She looked at the writing-no doubt a phone number or description of a lewd sexual act he wanted to perform on her-shook her head and motioned him away.

Sean took the opening and sat down beside her. Whether it was because he was obviously old enough to drink legally or her energy had been sapped by fending off the lineman’s thrust, she smiled appreciatively at Sean.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” she said.

“That’s because I haven’t been in here before.” He caught a waitress’s eye. “What the lady’s having.”

She held up her drink. “You into Mojitos?”

“I am now.” He glanced at the wedding ring on her finger.

She saw this. “I don’t believe there’s a law against a married woman going out by herself.”

“None at all. Sorry. I’m Sean Carter.”

“Valerie Messaline.”

If she was married to old Ian, the lady hadn’t taken her husband’s surname.

They shook hands. Her grip was strong, confident. He thought of a similar grip he knew well: Michelle’s.

“So what brings you to our little hamlet?”

Sean replied, “Business. I take it you live around here?”

“No, but my husband keeps an office near here. I was actually planning on going out with him tonight.” She looked down into her glass. “Things didn’t work out.”

That explained the little scene outside the building.

“Should I ask what’s wrong with your husband that he doesn’t see how lucky he is, or would that be indiscreet?”

She laughed. “The question isn’t indiscreet, but my answer might be.”

Sean’s drink came and they both sipped while he shot glances around the bar. Sean was trying to spot anyone paying them more than cursory attention.

“So what is it that you do, Sean?”

“I’m a problem solver.”

“Oh good, can I hire you?” she said jokingly.

“I’m not cheap.”

“I wouldn’t let you sit there if I thought you were.”

“So what is it you do?”

“Not much anymore.”

“Kids?”

“No, didn’t work out.”

“Me either.”

She glanced at his hand. “Not married now?”

“Divorced. Never got back in the saddle.”

“So what did you do to make your little woman divorce you?”

“I apparently snore, very loudly.”

“There’s a surefire cure for that.”

“Really? What?”

“Getting your brains screwed out.”

He smiled. “Damn, should I start blushing now or what?”

“Just making a comment. It’s not necessarily directed at you, although you’re a very attractive man, but you don’t need me to sit here and tell you that. Do you?” Her tone was blunt, aggressive. The woman was not flirting with him now. There was definitely something else going on.

He glanced at his watch. Michelle would be showing up soon. And he didn’t want to push Valerie too much the first time out.

“I’m sorry if I’m boring you,” she said in an annoyed tone.

He looked up to see her offended gaze on him.

“I just have an appointment I have to get to.”

“Well, then you better get to it. Then I can finish my drink in peace for a change.”

“Valerie, I saw that other guy hitting on you. I’m not like that.”

“Famous last words.”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and wrote something on it. He handed it to her. “I’ve got to go now, but here’s my number.”

“Why would I want your number?”

“For now let’s just call it new friends exchanging information.” He looked at her expectantly. “You don’t have to give me your number if you don’t want to.”

“Good, because I don’t think I want to.”

He finished his Mojito and rose. “Pleasure making your acquaintance, Valerie.”

She didn’t answer him, yet he could feel her gaze burn into his back with every step he took away. Outside in the cruiser Sean filled in Hayes on the encounter.