Beneath a Panamanian Moon (37 page)

Last summer I took on a partner, a big guy who just walked in one day, ordered a beer, and never left.

And last week a woman came in drenched from an early evening rain. The place was empty except for me and the toucan.

“You open?” she said.

“Help yourself.” I nodded toward the row of bottles.

She poured a glass of Glenlivet, no ice. I finished the song.

“God bless the child who's got his own,” she said, and raised her glass.

“Words to live by.”

“You're really good. How'd you wash up here?”

“I shot a man in Memphis.”

My partner came into the bar with a bucket of oysters he'd won shooting pool with the hotel chef. “You giving away our booze again?”

“She's working it off,” I said, “by listening to me play.”

“We can't afford that.”

“Madam, I'd like to introduce Phil. He's my partner. He's not long on charm but he's very good with money.”

She stood up and shook his hand. “It's a pleasure. My name's Kate.”

I started a new tune. “And what's your story, Kate?”

“My husband just left me for a receptionist and I'm looking for a job. A life, really, but I'll settle for a job.”

I said, “If you can add ice to my drink, we might be able to work something out.”

As she filled out her liquid application, Phil held up a padded envelope. “This came for you today.”

I figured Smith had sent a new set of faces to memorize. “Just put it on the bar. I'll get to it later.”

“It's from North Carolina.”

I stopped playing. “Open it.”

Phil ripped through the envelope and removed a single CD in a blank case.

“Is there a note?”

Phil looked inside. “Just this. Should I put it on?”

I nodded and held my breath until I heard the first chords. It was just her and the piano. As the last drops of rain blew out into the ocean, her voice filled the bar. The song was “Our Love Is Here to Stay.”

Kate said, “That's Kris Kelly. Is this new?”

Phil held up his hand and we let the song finish.

When it was done I said, “She should stick to her own stuff.” Phil and Kate pretended not to notice me dab my eyes with the cocktail napkin, and for that I was grateful.

Kate brought my bourbon on the rocks and said, her voice just a whisper in the quiet bar, “My guess is, there's an interesting story in there somewhere.”

Phil shucked an oyster and said, “Hey, Harp, I know, why don't you tell her the one about the monkey.”

So I did.

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.

An imprint of St. Martin's Press.

BENEATH A PANAMANIAN MOON
. Copyright © 2005 by David Terrenoire. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

“Our Love Is Here to Stay” by George Gershwin and Ira Gershwin © 1938 (renewed) Ira Gershwin Music (ASCAP) and George Gershwin Music (ASCAP). All rights administered by WB Music Corp. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

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First Edition: January 2005

eISBN 9781466872264

First eBook edition: April 2014