Page 6 of The Murder Club

She snorted. “Two oversize black Labs who rule my life.”

He chuckled. “Two? You definitely don’t live alone. I envy you.” His words were sincere. When he’d lived in Hollywood he’d had a couple of stray dogs he’d taken in. They’d been great company, but they’d both been elderly and in rough condition when they’d found their way to his doorstep. He’d only had them a few years. “I’m staying in an RV behind the store. It’s fine for now, since it’s just me. But once I get settled in a real house I’m getting me a dog. I miss having one around.”

Nicole came scurrying back with the fresh bottle of beer, clunking it on the table before hurrying off with a harassed smile.

Bailey grabbed the bottle and lifted it to her lips. Taking a deep sip, she lowered the beer and eyed him with a curious expression.

“Are you out enjoying the local sights?”

He shook his head. “Lia insisted I had to try Bella’s pizza while I was in town.”

“She’s not wrong.”

“They don’t do delivery, so I decided to come in for a quick drink while I wait for my order.” Dom lifted his own bottle and took a deep swig. The cold, malty liquid hit his tongue with a refreshing undertone of citrus. Nice. He sent Bailey an appreciative smile. “Now I’m very glad I did.”

Bailey nodded. “The Moss Brothers brew a good beer.”

Dom leaned forward. “I wasn’t talking about the beer.”

Chapter 2

It was no surprise to Bailey when she struggled to sleep. It’d been forever since she’d enjoyed a casual evening out with a guy. And never with a guy who made her feel . . . giddy. That was the only word that captured the breathless, dizzying excitement that bubbled through her like champagne. The last time she’d felt like that she’d been sixteen years old and Billy Roberts had invited her to the Homecoming dance.

Dragging herself out of bed at the shrill sound of her alarm, Bailey stepped into the shower despite the fact she’d washed off the sticky beer last night before going to bed. She needed something to wake her up and she didn’t drink coffee.

Once she was dressed in her scrubs, she pulled her damp hair into a messy knot on top of her head and moved into the kitchen to feed Bert and Ernie. The large dogs barked their approval, dancing circles in the small kitchen until they threatened to knock her down.

The house really was too small for such large dogs, but Bailey was willing to endure a few bruises. She adored the ridiculous duo.

Once she’d finished a quick glass of orange juice and the dogs had wolfed down their breakfast, Bailey opened the front door to send the pair to her next-door neighbor for the day.

In the beginning she’d tried to keep the exuberant beasts in her yard, but Dorinda Lyle was an elderly widow who assured her that she enjoyed having company. And to guarantee they made a mad dash to her house every morning, she kept an abundance of stuffed toys, treats, and beds that were specifically designed for aging dogs. Bailey counted her blessings they could spend the day being spoiled rotten.

Waiting until the beasts were safely tucked inside, Bailey grabbed her keys and headed out of the house. She got to the sidewalk as a sharp breeze cut through her scrubs. Crap. The October air had gone from crisp to cold. Returning to the house, she grabbed a cardigan sweater her grandmother had knitted for her shortly before she died and pulled it on. It was several sizes too large and starting to fray at the cuffs, but she loved it. She headed back out of the house only to spin around and rush back to the kitchen. She’d forgotten her phone.

It was her usual morning routine. Bailey told herself that she wasn’t scatterbrained, she was simply focused on more important things. Scooping the phone from the counter, she glanced at the screen, surprised to see she had a message. It was too early for a casual chat. It had to be something important.

She pulled up the text as she hurried out of the house.

The club is officially open. Ready or not.

Bailey frowned, reading the strange message a dozen times as she walked next to the railroad tracks that ran along the street in front of her house.

“What the hell?” she muttered, her feet carrying her toward the nearby nursing home without her having to pay attention to where she was going.

She’d made the same journey since she’d started working at the home part-time during the summer months. Back then, she’d needed the money to help pay for her nursing school tuition and had every intention of leaving Pike to work at a hospital in a big town. She’d had dreams of her own apartment, tons of friends who loved going out every night, and a big paycheck that offered her a comfortable lifestyle.

But ten years later, she was still making the same old journey, day after day.

Staring at her phone, she tried to make sense of the message. It’d come from an unfamiliar number, so she had no idea who’d sent it. But the fact that it referred to a game had to mean it had something to do with the Murder Club. And the only person who might have her phone number was Eric Criswell.

Was he the one who’d been sending the links to play a private game? Probably. She’d sensed that he’d developed a crush on her since he’d started working at the home. Maybe she shouldn’t be so friendly, she acknowledged with a sigh. Some men took it as an invitation she was interested in a relationship.

Reaching the L-shaped brick building on the edge of town, Bailey headed toward the wide porch that was covered with a low, fading awning that was frayed at the edges. Bailey grimaced, entering the code into the keypad to unlock the glass door. A lot of stuff at Pike Nursing Home was faded and fraying. Bailey assumed it had something to do with the fact that Pike had been going downhill for several years. The dairy industry that had once created a boomtown had crashed, leaving them struggling to keep businesses open.

Entering the front lobby, she turned toward the short hall that led to the break room. She not only wanted to stow away her sweater and purse but she needed to track down Eric before she started her shift. If she left it until she happened to cross paths with the young aide, she would lose her nerve.

She wasn’t a coward, but she tried to avoid conflicts.

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