Cop Said “You Two Aren't Welcome Here” To Twins — Both Were Federal Agents Investigating Him
Chapter 3
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Kendra turned on her stool and looked up at him, her face calm. "We heard you, Sergeant. We're just having a soda.""A soda?" Dempsey laughed, looking around the room like he wanted everybody to laugh with him. A couple of men at a back table did, nervously. "Look at this, folks: a matching set. Two of them. Like salt and pepper shakers, except nobody ordered any."Jayda turned, too. "Is there a problem?"Dempsey leaned down and squinted at her face, then squinted at Kendra's. "Which one of you is which?" He straightened up and shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Y'all look the same to me anyway."Kendra did not blink. Jayda's jaw got tight, but her hands stayed flat on the bar."This is a family bar," Dempsey said. "Good, hard-working people—folks who've lived in Cold Creek their whole lives. And you're not family. I don't know where you two came from, but I can tell you where you're going: out.""We paid for our drinks," Kendra said. "Same as everybody else.""Did you hear something?" Dempsey said, cupping his hand to his ear. "I thought I heard something."Lucy came out of the kitchen and stopped short. "Sergeant, they're not doing anything. They've been sitting there real quiet."Dempsey pointed a finger at her without looking. "Nobody asked you, Lucy. You stop serving them right now, or I write this bar up for serving people who are clearly looking for trouble.""How are they looking for trouble?" Lucy said. "They're drinking soda.""Lucy," Hank said sharply from the end of the bar. "Go in the back."Lucy stared at her grandfather, then turned and went through the kitchen door. It swung shut behind her.Dempsey reached past Jayda and flicked her glass with two fingers. It tipped over; soda and ice spilled across the bar and dripped onto her jeans. "Oops," he said. "Clumsy me."Somebody at a table gasped; a woman put her hand over her mouth. Jayda looked down at the wet spot on her knee, then back up at Dempsey. She did not say a word. Under her jacket, the little brown button kept recording."See, that's the problem with people like you," Dempsey said. "You come into a nice place, and suddenly there's a mess on the floor.""You made the mess," Kendra said.Dempsey bent down until his face was close to hers. "Say that again."Kendra looked him in the eye. "You made the mess, Sergeant."For a second, his face went red. Then he smiled again, wide and slow, and stood up. "Hank," he called down the bar. "Hank, get over here."Hank came slowly, holding his rag. He did not look at the twins; he did exactly what they had told him."You know what I could do to this place?" Dempsey said. "30 years, Hank. Your daddy's bar. I could have your license pulled by Monday morning. Health code, fire code, serving the wrong kind of crowd—I could have it boarded up by Christmas.""I know," Hank said quietly."Then you know what to do." Dempsey held out his hand, palm up, right there in front of the whole room. "Rent's due, Hank. Same as every Friday."