‘Beer,’ Scott Dawson called out, mounting the bar stool. In his late thirties, he had round features and fair hair cropped short. His paunch, a flaccid drum of flesh, strained at his cream shirt.
Brittany drew a beer and set the wet schooner in front of Scott on the mahogany bar. She turned on her professional smile. ‘Kind of early today, aren’t you?’
‘Off work,’ Scott said.
‘Figured you didn’t go to work when I saw you weren’t wearing your badge,’ Brittany said. Employees at the chemical plant had to wear a small plastic badge with their name, number and photograph on it in order to enter and leave the plant.
‘Regular Sherlock,’ Scott said.
‘You notice lots of things when you’re tending bar,’ Brittany said. And you get to know people, she thought to herself. And when you get to know them, really get to know them, you get to dislike them. She’d never liked her job but it was all she’d known, in one joint or another, for the past ten years.
‘Wife’s supposed to meet me here pretty soon,’ Scott said. ‘She’s getting off work early.’ He winked at Brittany. ‘Toothache.’
Brittany smiled her automatic smile and nodded. She’d never liked Scott, who had a tendency to get loud and violent when he got drunk.
A few minutes later Rae Dawson entered. Some ten years younger than her husband, she was tall and pretty, with a good figure and hair the red of autumn leaves.
‘Coke and bourbon,’ she ordered, and sat next to her husband. Brittany served the highball and no one spoke for a while as Rae sipped her drink. Then she got down off the stool to go to the powder room.
‘Saw Dan Briscoe last night,’ Brittany said, picking up the empty glass. Dan owned a car dealership and it was no secret he had a thing for Rae.
‘How ‘bout that,’ said Scott. ‘Two more of the same.’
Rae returned to her stool and Brittany put two highballs before her and her husband.
‘I was drinking beer,’ Scott said in a loud voice.
‘So you were,’ Brittany answered, smiling her My Mistake smile. ‘On the house. Unless you’d rather have beer.’
‘No,’ Scott said, ‘think nothing of it.’
That was how Brittany thought Scott would answer. His cheapness was one of the things she disliked most about the man. It was one of the things she knew Rae disliked most in Scott, too.
‘Where’d you go last night?’ he asked his wife.
‘You know I was at my sister’s. I even stopped in here for about a half-hour on the way. Brittany can verify it.’
‘Right,’ Brittany said.
‘I thought you said Dan Briscoe was in here last night,’ Scott said to her, his eyes narrow.
‘He was,’ Brittany said. ‘He, uh, came in late.’ She made more drinks, a little stronger this time, and placed the glasses on the bar.
Scott glared at Brittany. ‘You wouldn’t be covering up, or anything, would you?’ His voice had acquired a mean edge.
‘Now wait a minute!’ Rae said. ‘If you think I came in here last night to see Dan Briscoe, you’re crazy.’
‘Brittany mentioned Briscoe was in here.’
‘I said he came in late,’ Brittany said quickly.
‘And she acted like she was covering up or something,’ Scott said, looking accusingly at Brittany.
Rae turned to her. ‘Have you ever seen me with another man?’
Brittany’s jaw tightened. ‘No, of course not. You folks shouldn’t fight.’
Rae swivelled on her stool to face her husband. ‘Have I ever been unfaithful?’
The glass Brittany had been polishing slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor. She knelt and began to clear up the mess, her hands shaking.
‘How the hell should I know if you’ve been cheating on me?’ said Scott.
‘Keep it light, folks,’ Brittany told them. ‘You know we don’t like trouble in here.’
Rae gulped her drink. Brittany could see that the liquor was getting to her, getting to them both.
‘I ought to go out on you with Dan Briscoe,’ said Rae. ‘At least he’s got money.’
Scott grabbed her wrist. ‘You ever see Briscoe behind my back and there’ll be hell to pay!’
‘Hey, now,’ said Brittany, ‘that’s enough.’ Scott released his wife, but his face was livid.
‘Have one on the house,’ Brittany said, taking up their almost empty glasses. ‘One to make up by.’
‘Make mine straight,’ Scott said.
Rae climbed down off the stool and went to the powder room again.
‘You shouldn’t be so hard on her,’ said Brittany, as she mixed the drinks. ‘Can’t believe all the rumours you hear about a woman as pretty as Rae, and a harmless kiss in fun never hurt nobody.’
‘Rumours?’ Scott leaned over the bar. ‘Kiss? What kiss? Did she kiss Briscoe last night?’
‘Take it easy,’ Brittany said. ‘I told you Briscoe came in late.’
Rae came back and Brittany set the drinks on the bar. Rae drank hers slowly but Scott tossed his drink down and stared straight ahead. Quietly, Brittany put another full glass in front of him.
‘I hear you were in here with Briscoe last night,’ Scott said with quiet fury. ‘Somebody even saw you kissing him.’
‘What? You’re crazy.’
Brittany moved quickly toward them. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘I know you were covering up!’ Scott looked at her with scalding hate. ‘We’ll see what Briscoe says, because I’m going to drive over to his place right now and have it out with him.’
‘But I didn’t even see Briscoe last night!’ Rae took a pull on her drink, trying to calm herself. Scott swung sharply around with his forearm, hitting Rae’s chin and the highball glass at the same time. There was a clink as the glass hit her teeth and she fell backward off the stool.
Brittany reached under the bar and her hand came up with a glinting chrome automatic.
‘Now, don’t move, folks.’ She aimed the gun at Scott’s stomach. ‘You know we don’t go for that kind of trouble in here.’ Blood was seeping between Rae’s fingers as she held her hand to her mouth. She scooted backward to sit sobbing in the farthest booth.
Brittany leaned close to Scott and spoke in a low voice. ‘It wasn’t Briscoe she was in here with. He came in later.’
‘Wasn’t him?’ Scott asked, bewildered. ‘Who was it then?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Brittany. ‘He had a badge on, so he works at the plant, but I don’t know who he is and that’s the truth.’
‘Oh, no.’
‘Take it easy. She only kissed him in that booth there. And I’m not even sure I saw that. The booth was dark.’
Scott tossed down the drink that was on the bar and moaned. He was staring at the automatic.
Brittany reached into a pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She glanced at the screen and held it to her ear. ‘Hello?’
She placed the automatic on the bar and took a few steps away from the couple, keeping her back to them. She spoke into the phone. ‘Uh-uh. Yeah. Okay.’ She stood with it held to her ear.
The shot was a sudden, angry bark.
Brittany turned. Scott was standing slumped with a supporting hand on a bar stool. Rae was crumpled on the floor beneath the table of the booth she’d been sitting in. A bloodstain blossomed on her cream blouse like a rose unfurling its petals.
Within minutes the police were there, led by a young plainclothes detective named Peterson.
‘You say they were arguing and he just up and shot her?’
‘He accused her of running around,’ Brittany said. ‘They were arguing, and I was going to throw them out when my cell phone vibrated. I set the gun down for a moment when I answered it, and he grabbed it and shot.’
Peterson flashed a look at where Rae’s body had lain before they’d photographed it and taken it away. ‘Pretty simple, I guess. Dawson confessed as soon as we got here. He’s pretty broken.’
‘Who wouldn’t be?’ said Brittany.
‘Save some sympathy for the girl.’ Peterson started toward the door. ‘If you see anything like this developing again, give us a call, huh?’
That’ll teach you to cheat with my boyfriend, you bitch.
‘Ma’am?’
‘Uh? Oh, yeah, sure. You know we don’t like trouble in here.’
[Image Credit : Photo by Kacper G on Unsplash]
by 
John Whitehouse
Latest posts by John Whitehouse (see all)
- We Don’t Like Trouble - November 14, 2025
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