The detective sat sulking at his usual table. She brought him another glass of bourbon.
“Why the long face, Dick?”
“I was so damn close,” he said. “And now Mattheson’s going to get away with everything because I can’t get past his powerful friends.”
“Mawmaw used to say, you catch more flies with honey.”
“Honey…” he mumbled, then shot up like a rocket. “The mead distillery! Doris, you’re a genius!” He kissed her on the cheek.
“What’d I say?” She feigned innocence, but he was already out the door.
Some nights, she thought this town would fall apart without her.

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