Episode 9

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Faith Lane sat on the stool at the Bucket B's Bar ' N Grill greasy topped bar and lifted the beer bottle to her lips for another long deep swallow.

" Think you may have had enough, Officer," the bartender Ralph said casually as he made the laziest effort at wiping down the sticky bar top. Not that he really cared. About the bar top or the cop currently drinking away whatever misery she had, real or imagined. He hated this dump. It was just a job to him. And damn good tips. Besides it was a cop bar. Anything went in a cop bar.

" Nobody is paying you to think," Faith shot out tersely. " Give me two more of these. And whatever chicken wing you got cooking that won't kill me ten times over. And do it fast before I call the health department. "

She looked at the text messages she had received on her phone.

Josie Perkins: I'm making the arrangements. For Pamela. I think she should wear her little pink dress. With the lace. She always looked so pretty in that dress. Like a doll.

Melinda Velez: I'm sorry about Pamela but I'm not sorry about us. And when you stop being guilty neither are you. You wanted it just as much as I did. I didn't ask you here. You showed up.

DuBuis: Sis , you ok? Give me a call.

Nessa Lane  Johnson: Baby girl, I'm so sorry to hear about Pamela. She was very sweet. I was hoping she would be my daughter in law one day. She was too sweet. God always wants the sweetest smelling flowers in his garden.

Faith deleted all the texts. Except for Melinda's.

The bartender silently placed two more beers in front of her. She finished off what she had left in the first bottle and then started in on another without a space in between the actions.

Then she tapped out a text message saying," Tonight. Your place. I'll bring the dildo. But this ain't nothing but sex , bitch. You mention Pamela one more time and you won't even get the damn sex. "

With cold eyes that had a strong undercurrent of anger, hatred and guilt lining them, she hit send on the message.

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