Page 23 of Peril in Piney Woods

Griff set his can aside and turned to her as if he’d finally landed on what he wanted to say next. “Are you concerned those two men will come after you again?” He studied her a moment. “I mean, you did agree without much persuasion to come home with me. I’m guessing you’re at least a little worried, whether you want to admit it or not.”

Meg chose her words carefully. To tell him that an abrupt exit from his place would likely be simpler and cleaner than from her shop wouldn’t be the response he wanted to hear.

“I suppose I was in a sort of shock. The idea that the man’s family would seek revenge never even entered my mind. Apparently, it should have.” This was frankly an oversight on her part. She wouldn’t have made such a rookie error in the past. Maybe she was getting soft.

“Ernie’s worried there will be others, even though the two involved in today’s attack won’t be giving you any trouble anytime soon. Sheriff Norwood is working with the sheriff in Dade County to get a handle on the situation.”

Meg nodded. “Good to know.”

“Someone could confront you on the road,” Griff added. “At the market. It’s something you need to give some thought to.”

Wait. Wait. She got it now. This was more than just about her. “Is there something about the Jones family that you and Ernie haven’t told me?”

“There are a lot of good people out there who belong to very cool, very nice biker clubs. But the Jones folks are not nice, and they don’t belong to a club like that. This is a criminal biker gang. Sheriff Norwood mentioned there was an FBI investigation into these guys. We’re talking bad guys, Meg. Really, really bad guys.”

As if she needed the situation ramped up. The FBI? Really? This just got better and better.

“Okay.” She finished off her beer. “This is why you’re so worried?” On some level the news was a relief. If this was the primary factor troubling Griff, then maybe he wasn’t as suspicious of her as she’d believed. Somehow that made her feel a little better. “I just have to watch my back until this is sorted.”

“We,” he corrected. “We watch your back.”

She grinned. Toyed with her empty beer can. “You may not find the job as interesting as you think.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, but he wasn’t ready to shrug off the seriousness just yet. “I’m willing to find out.”

Again, she carefully selected her words. “You’re a good friend, Griff. I appreciate your consideration of my welfare.”

“I appreciate,” he teased, “that you keep my life interesting.”

Meg laughed. She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment. “I wish I could say I try, but to be honest, the interesting part just barges in.”

“Ernie wondered if you had ever considered keeping a handgun for protection.”

If she’d had any other question about the idea, this was clearly confirmation that they had indeed been discussing her. “I’m good with my knife.”

Handguns, if done legally, involved background checks. Not doable. If she told him she already had a weapon, then she’d have to reveal that it had not been legally purchased. Either way, this would create a problem. It was best to insist she didn’t like guns. And she didn’t. Not really. That said, they were a necessary evil sometimes.

“I have a rifle you could keep at your place.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable with a rifle.”

“We could do some target practice with it tomorrow. Get you comfortable with it.” He grinned. “See how bad you really are.”

“Couldn’t hurt, I suppose.” What else could she say? Not that she was an expert marksman. Not that she could disassemble and reassemble any firearm he chose to put in front of her in record time.

“Good. I, for one, will feel better knowing you’ve got a little firepower handy.”

“I’m tired of talking about me,” she said, curling her legs under her and settling deeper into the comfy sofa. “Tell me about how you decided to become a keeper of discarded things.”

“Didn’t we talk about this before?”

“I’ve asked, and you’ve always given me the abridged version. I want the details.”

He leaned back, draped an arm across the back of the sofa. “I guess I had that one coming.”

For the first time since before she’d spotted the holdup at the Gas and Go, she relaxed and waited for him to continue. Just avoiding further discussion about her was a significant boost to lowering her tension.

“I was working sixteen-hour days,” he began. “Not that I didn’t love my job, but there’s a fine line between love and obsession. I think it was easier than coming home and facing the discord there.”

---