“I don’t have a dozen cameras,” he growled, but the flush of his bald head said he was lying.

I decided to test him. “As long as you don’t have one in the bathroom…”

His head nearly exploded. “That’s disgusting!” Then he glanced at the door, worried, like he thought his raised voice might bring Jericho back.

Just what had the cook threatened?

“Come on.” I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers. “Twenty-two bucks.”

“Twenty-two?”

“Yeah. Tax.”

He actually stood to dig his wallet out of his back pocket, and I struggled to keep the shock off my face. I really should bluff more often.

He pulled out a twenty and a five. “I need change.”

I lunged across the desk to pluck the bills from his fingers. “That’s all right. I remember you rounding up a few times.” I stuffed it into my bra. “Now apologize.”

“What?”

I decided to cut my losses and pointed at the second foil packet. “You gonna eat the pancakes?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Good.” I snatched up the packet and held it behind my back. “Anything else?”

The door burst open. I thought Pete might wet himself, but he relaxed when he saw Rena.

“You can’t fire her,” she hissed. “Andy Weaver’s here.”

“So?”

I smiled and turned back to my nervous boss. “So…so is Lynette.” And when it came to getting one of them to leave, I was usually the best man for the job. I might not be good with animals, but I could get through to Andy, even when he was losing his shit—which was inevitable if Lynette had beaten him there.

Instead of walking out from behind his desk to confront the problem in his own dining room, Pete pulled his chair under his butt and sat, then started shifting papers. He couldn’t read a thing without his glasses. “Go on, then,” he said, then glanced up at me. “You know what to do.”

I played dumb. “And what’s that?”

“Come on,” Rena said, and grabbed my arm. “Andy’s looking for a fight, and his only options are Lynette and my pretty Scotsman. If he damages that face, I’ll kill him myself.”

3

It Tolls For Thee

Igrabbed the doorjamb to stop Rena from pulling me out of the office. “Just a minute. I don’t have to deal with Andy if I don’t have a job.” I looked back at Pete and waited.

He rolled his eyes and nodded, but I didn’t budge. He rolled his eyes again. “Fine. You still have a job.”

I let go of the door and hurried out of the short hall and handed my foil packet off to Rena. “Hold this.” I dusted my hands together, then found all the players.

Andy and the Scotsman stood nose to nose with the former up against the wall near the door. Lynette sat in her booth watching with bug eyes and a toohy grin, as if she expected to eat the loser for lunch.

Table three went on chatting and stuffing their faces, oblivious to the danger, though no one was oblivious to Rena’s Scotsman. Everyone in the dining room snuck glances in his direction. He didn’t have a kilt or bagpipes but might as well have.

That’s how detached Hazelton was from the rest of the world. Any stranger, anyone who even looked like they might have an accent, stood out like a sore and bloody thumb. I really had to get out of there.

For the time being, it appeared I didn’t need to handle Andy, so I stood beside the register with Rena and watched. The two men were having some sort of staring contest. Andy, who was half a head taller, was mad someone stood between him and his sister. His fists flexed over and over, looking for the moment to strike. He glanced up at the big camera in the corner of the ceiling, and though his hands relaxed again, his face did not.