Page 83 of Tackle

Emerson set the broom to the side and placed her hands on her hips, scanning the floor. “All that’s left is to mop and wipe down.”

“I’ll go get the bucket and fill it up.”

Emerson went behind the bar and grabbed a rag and the spray cleaner. She scrubbed the bar, stools, and tables while Britney mopped the floor.

“I’ll go empty that.” Emerson said of the bucket when she noticed Britney was done.

“No, that’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“You filled it, it’s only fair I empty it.”

She grabbed the handle. “Really, I, um. I’m just finishing the job I started.” Waving a hand, she started walking, rolling the bucket behind her.

Emerson tilted her head to the side, a frown pulling at her brow, as she watched Britney disappear into the kitchen. Brushing off the girl’s sudden strange behavior as fatigue, she headed back behind the bar, rinsed out the rag in the sink, then laid it flat to dry. Britney came back, grabbing the mop en route to the hall to put the supplies away in the closet.

“I’m all set.”

Looking up from texting Oz to tell him she was on her way home, Emerson saw Britney had returned already wearing her coat. She smiled. “Great. Let’s get out of here.” Hefting her purse onto her shoulder, she started for the door, Britney following.

“Well, have a good night,” Britney said cheerfully once they were outside and the door locked.

“Is everything all right?” The girl’s emotions had run the gamut that evening.

“Yep! Just ready to go home.”

Emerson tossed her keys in her purse. “Well, I can’t say I blame you for that.” She was more than ready to go home too.

Cranking the heater, Emerson sat in her car, watching as Britney got into hers. She gave her a finger wave as Britney pulled out of her spot and was just getting ready to follow suit when she had a horrible realization. She’d forgotten to batch out the credit card machine, and after the killing they’d made that night, she wanted that money in her bank account.

Bone tired and dreading getting back out of the car, she, nonetheless, killed her engine and scanned the parking lot before throwing open her car door. She texted Oz as soon as she was back in the pub with the door locked.

Sorry. I’ll be a bit later than planned. I forgot to do something and had to go back inside.

Are you there alone?

Yes. Britney just left.

The door’s locked, right?

Yes, locked up tight.

Good. Don’t leave until I get there. I don’t want you going back out into that dark parking lot alone.

Please don’t bother. I’ll only be two minutes. It makes no sense to drive all the way over here.

Humor me.

Really, Oz, it’s silly.

Emerson…

Fine.

Promise me.

I promise.

And you’ll keep the door locked?

---