Page 15 of Frisco

I nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. I know who it was. I’ll take care of it.”

“I need to ask and I’m not meaning this in an intrusive way, but in a way where if you need something, you know I’d give you anything you needed. If I didn’t, the Missus would come out of her grave to lecture me so with that said,” he took a big breath. “Are you in trouble? I’m sorry. It’s not my place, but I know the crowd your mom’s bar serves, and your sister, well… And your ex-husband. I just—my Melanie adored you.”

My heart yanked up to my throat. It pulsed there as my throat closed up around it.

Damn. I didn’t want to cry. No way. Not here. All my bad-ass cred would be gone. Noah was working today, and he’d taken one look at me and started actually working. If he saw me crying, he’d likely stop. I couldn’t have that.

“She always said you reminded her of our daughter, Sarah,” Mr. Baldeaver continued. “She passed when she was young. Don’t know if you knew we had a daughter, but when you started taking piano from me, Melanie was always around. She liked when you had a cookie with her, though I knew you preferred the gummy bears.”

“I didn’t know she felt that way. I appreciated the cookies and candy.”

He smiled, his head bobbing a little, his neck jiggling with the motion. “No, no. I taught a lot of children, but you had a special place with us both. Also, I need to warn you that this mister asked others about you. You might be getting more warnings.”

It didn’t take long to realize Mr. Baldeaver was right.

After he departed, AnnaBeth Marcella was next. The ‘motorcycle fella’ had hit her up at the bakery.

My Spanish and biology teachers from high school also shared their experiences. Both let me know, though they weren’t as concerned as Mr. Baldeaver had been, but they still gave me a heads up.

Shane was getting around or the man on his behalf was getting around.

After lunch I was half expecting other childhood friends—or hell, even my college friends—to start texting or calling. The thing with the townspeople is that Shane had opened the door for them to approach me after my divorce. I’d been back three months and hadn’t had many conversations. Mr. Baldeaver was right. I was private, but not really.

Mostly I was embarrassed.

Thirty-six. No kids. I’d caught my husband having a foursome on me.

Yeah. I was humiliated and embarrassed, if that was possible. If there was a distinction between the two, I needed them both. This should have been the time of my life when I was with family, when I might’ve been struggling in my career, but around now was when everything was supposed to start coming together.

I was so far off that bullseye, I wasn’t even in the gun range. I was trying to hit it from the parking lot. Or worse, I was still on the road, not even in the parking lot.

This whole day had me in my emotions. Wanting to cry. Crying, at times (in the bathroom), and thinking I should maybe take up smoking. I also wanted to cry because I had no idea how many people didn’t just like me—they cared about me.

This process was also giving me the 411 about Claudia and how many guys she’d dated over the years. People seemed to be hoping to make me feel better (after they realized I was feeling a certain way), so they told me about Claudia’s exploits in a whole scrambling sort of way.

Still. They cared.

I was taking that to the bank.

But also, I was livid by the end of my shift. I mean, I was livid before that, but that was when I let myself actually feel it. Now I could do something about the Friendly Questioning Inquisition from Shane Fucking King.

Honestly.

Shane Fucking King.

Is that what he thought?

That he was some motorcycle king?

Ghost? That was his road name.

He wasn’t living up to it with this, because everyone saw him, everyone knew about his whole Kali Michaels whatever-he-was-doing. There was nothing stealthy about him, though I guess it was pretty haunting.

Or stalking. Can I go there? Because one more day of this, and that’d be what I was feeling.

My shift ended at six. I clocked out at 6:01 pm.

Otis was in a tizzy, since I wasn’t staying late, but I knew he wasn’t going to protest too much. He’d seemed uber grateful to see me this morning, and I wondered if he’d done some internet searching on the Red Demons last night.

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