I shook my head. “There’s no way you can go back in there after what happened at your audition. They’ll toss you out on your hiney.”

She scowled but didn’t answer. She knew I was right.

My phone rang, and I looked at the number on the screen and groaned. “It’s Joe.”

“You might as well answer it and get it over with,” she muttered, dipping a fry in ketchup.

I cringed as I answered, prepared for yelling. Instead Joe asked in a low voice, “Where the hell are you?”

“Around.”

“But not around the property of a murdered man, where I specifically asked you to stay.” He paused. “It wasn’t a bossy request, Rose. It was an official one. You were at a murder scene. I need your statement.”

“And I’ll give it to you . . . over the phone. I’m not letting that redheaded witch anywhere near me.”

“What’s Hilary got to do with this?” he asked in confusion.

“Not Hilary. Deputy Hoffstetter.”

I could swear I heard him snort. “It’s for your own protection, Rose.”

I took a breath, hoping I didn’t give myself away. “Did you move Mason? I tried to call the temporary number he gave me, and he’s not answering.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, we moved him.”

“Have you figured out who tried to kill him?” I still hadn’t figured out a way to tell Joe what I knew about the murder attempt, and now there was even more to tell. But now I considered holding off. If Joe kept Mason in protective custody, maybe Mason wouldn’t be able to go to Gems tonight.

“I’m working on it, Rose.” He sounded exhausted.

“I wasn’t accusing you of anything, Joe. I know you’re doing the best you can, and I appreciate it more than you know. I’m just really worried about him. I need to know that he’s okay.”

“I understand. And he is. I promise.”

“Can I see him?” I asked. “Or at least talk to him?”

“It’s safer if he doesn’t contact anyone.”

“Joe, I’m not anyone. Please. I really need to talk to him about something important.”

“Then tell me what it is, and I’ll pass it on to him.”

I considered telling Joe about Dolly Parton having Mason’s number, but I couldn’t. While he wouldn’t allow anyone to harm Mason, there was nothing to keep him from tossing Mason in jail if he found any evidence indicating wrongdoing on his part. “I can’t.”

“If you change your mind, tell Deputy Hoffstetter, and she’ll pass it along.”

“I’m sure she will,” I said dryly.

“I’ve gotta go, Rose, but Deputy Hoffstetter’s gonna call, and you’re going to give her a statement. If you don’t, I’ll toss you into jail for obstruction of justice. And Mason’s not going to be around to get you out.”

“When you put it that way, fine.” I had bigger things to worry about. Like applying for a job.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

There were only a few cars in the Gems lot when I parked the truck. Neely Kate had been coaching me the whole way there. “Okay, remember everything I told you and just go in and act confident. If you look nervous, they’ll chew you up and spit you out. Tell them you’ve decided you want to try the bartending job and then wing it from there.”

“Okay.”

I got out of the truck and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. When I walked through the door, there wasn’t a bouncer at the entrance like there had been last time. In fact, there weren’t any customers either, just two girls on the stage dressed in booty shorts and tank tops.

“We’re not open yet,” one of the girls said. “We open at three on Fridays.”

“Actually,” I said, twisting my hands together in front of me until I realized what I was doing and stopped. “I was here about a job. When I was here the other day, Crystal mentioned the possibility that I could work as a bartender.”

The first girl shook her head, her long dark brown ponytail shaking with it. “Mud doesn’t hire girls to bartend.”

“Wait,” the other said, hopping down from the stage. “You were with the girl who barfed on that guy.”

“Maybe . . .”

“Daisy!” she said, pulling me into a hug. “We wanted to call you, but we didn’t get your number or anything. Mud said he definitely wanted to hire you.”

“He did?” the girl on stage and I said at the same time.

She gave me a grin. “I bet you don’t remember me. I’m Sparkle.”

“Oh,” I said in surprise. “You look different.”

“With my shirt on?” she laughed.

A blush rose to my cheeks. “Well . . . yeah. But mostly your face. You’re not wearing any makeup now.” She’d been slathered in it before.

“Now I see why Mud wants her,” the other woman said.

Why, did Mud have thing for women who blushed? Did he like to embarrass them? “So the job’s still available?”

“Yeah, if you want it. Mud’s in the back.”

I took a deep breath, wondering if I should have worn something with a lower neckline. But I hadn’t worn one last time, and he was apparently still interested.

I knocked on his partially open office door. “Mr. Mud?”

“Come in,” he barked.