“Johnnie Walker Red on the rocks, please.” Her voice was low and husky.
My order was left half-filled as the bartender hurried to fill her request. “Picking up or dropping off, Ms. G.?”
“Dropping off, and I’m glad to see the back of her. Talk about a spoiled witch.”
“That’s the way it goes sometimes.”
“You’ve got that right. All I want now is a drink and a quick bite, and then I’m going home, taking a hot bath, and sleeping for a week.”
“The shrimp po’boy is always good. Here you go.”
“Thanks, Hank.” She picked up the glass and took a healthy swallow, then swirled the ice cubes in her drink.
“Sorry for the delay, sir.” The bartender set the drinks in front of me.
“Not a problem.” I handed him a couple of bills and started to gather the glasses.
“I’ll help you, Bryan.” Tony was sud
