Part one of his cleanup job was complete. Kline would never harass her again, and he’d surely think twice about stalking another woman. Now for the second phase. He walked through the front door and veered left, toward the open bar. Several tables were occupied already, the big screens turned to the latest NBA game. He claimed a seat at the long counter and waited on the bartender. “What can I get you?” The bartender eyed his patches admiringly. “First one is on the house.” “Corona, no lime.” He placed a cocktail napkin on the counter in front of him, then walked to the closest cooler. He uncapped the bottle and returned to Vincent. “Here ya go.” “Thanks.” Vincent dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Great day for riding.” “Perfect,” Vincent agreed. Fall weather in Corpus was mixed. Some days it reached the 80s, but when a cold front blew through, the temperatures could drop into the 50s, even as low as 40 degrees. “Have a bike?” “A Softail,”
