“Two nights ago?” Jim inquires, thinking about on his mental timetable. “That’s when he robbed a convenient store.” It must’ve happened right after he was in here.

With a closed fist, Jim pounds the bar, though not hard enough to elicit any pain. His teeth were gritted and he was obviously irritated. “I was so close to getting him!” He growled. He hated when he was just one or two steps behind a crook.

Perhaps this was also a reaction to cover up that he’s surprised she remembered what he had liked, though his tastes had hardly changed. “Maybe I should get a new drink.” He offers her a hesitant smile.