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been in the country instead of the outskirts of suburbia the way it was now. The dark wood-panel walls were covered with photos, cricket and football pennants from local teams and other bric-a-brac. His older regulars kept their own special beer mugs on a high shelf over the bar, a motley array of ceramic, pewter and glass.
    Occasionally he thought about upgrading the pub but really, why should he change? His was a classic small-town watering hole. Everyone knew everyone else. It had suited him and his customers for the past ten years.
    He bent to open the fridge for a bottle of imported beer and the door swung out, letting out cold air and blocking Kirsty’s passage to the till. Of course a few modernizations like sliding doors would be welcome. He would get around to them one of these days.
    Riley came in with Paula, his new wife and a detective on the Summerside police department. Darcy automatically reached for a frosted glass and a bottle of James Boag classic. He had it poured before Riley elbowed his way to the bar. As he passed it over, he winked at Paula. “Gin and tonic for the missus?”
    “If you call me missus one more time, I swear, I will arrest you.” Paula’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’ll have Cinzano with a twist, just to keep you on your toes.”
    “Careful.” Riley sipped his beer and regarded his wife with relish. “She’s in a feisty mood tonight.”
    “I love a strong-minded woman.” Darcy grinned at Riley as he poured a measure of ruby-red vermouth over ice and added a sliver of lemon. “Makes for a challenge.”
    “Speaking of women...” Riley raised his eyebrows. “How was the cruise?”
    “Well...” Darcy deliberately let it dangle, trying to figure out a way not to tell Riley what happened.
    “If you boys are going to talk dirty, I’m going to see if I can find a table.” Paula saluted Darcy with her glass and headed off into the crowd.
    Before Darcy could answer, one of his regulars, Tony, a young bricklayer with russet sideburns and an angel tattooed on his right arm, came up to the bar. “Six pots of Carlton Draught, thanks, Darcy.” He doffed an imaginary cap to Riley. “How’s it going, Sarg?”
    Riley replied easily and made a comment about football. Darcy watched the exchange as he poured beers and lined them up on the bar. The bricklayer’s deferent but friendly attitude masked a wariness of cops. Tony had had a couple of run-ins with the police in his younger days over minor infractions but he’d kept his nose clean for some years. Darcy was glad. He liked Tony.
    “Cheers, mate.” Tony paid for his drinks and left with six glasses clutched between his callused fingers.
    “He’s a good kid,” Darcy said.
    “Did I say anything?” Riley asked mildly. He leaned forward and beckoned Darcy in close. “So, I want to know how you fared on the cruise. Did you get laid?”
    Darcy affected a pained expression. “So crude.”
    “Well, did you? John and I want you to get our money’s worth from that ticket.”
    “I suppose you think that entitles you to a blow-by-blow.” Darcy took an order from another customer and moved down the bar to pour a Scotch from the liquor bottles lined up in front of the mirror. No way was he going to mention he’d hooked up with Emma. It was not only indiscreet, he felt foolish.
    “Blow-by-blow?” Riley said with a twinkle in his eye when Darcy returned. “Are you saying you engaged in rough play?”
    Darcy picked up a cloth and began to wipe the beer-splattered bar, recalling the sexy love-dance between him and Emma. “Vigorous and athletic, but no, not rough.”
    “You did get laid!” Riley grinned widely. “Was she hot? Are you going to see her again?”
    “She was hot,” Darcy admitted, getting a visual flash of Emma in that blue dress—and out of it. He was getting hard just thinking about her.
    Would she tell her friends? He didn’t want to be a source of gossip. They’d already weathered that storm and he was glad