Page 156 of The Puck Stops Here

Thank the lord for credit cards!

Astrid winced as she swiped to pay her cab driver. Either the guy had taken the concierge team at their word when they’d said money was no object, or cabs were genuinely expensive in this part of the world.

‘You sure this is the right place?’ he said to her, leaning over the steering wheel to eye the fizzing neon sign over the rundown joint. Crow Bar. How lovely.

Astrid checked the address Sissi had sent.

‘Yup, this is the one. Thanks.’

‘Want me to wait for you?’

At those prices?!

Then again, how would she get back? The town was in the middle of nowhere. Chances of her getting another ride back to civilisation that night were zero. Though worst-case scenario she could crash at Sissi’s and get a ride in the morning.

‘I’m good, thanks.’

She stepped out into the freezing night air and the cab pulled away, its tyres crunching over the gravel as the thrum of rock music reverberated through the windowless walls before her. Her kind of tunes. That was something at least…

She looked this way and that; it really was one street, the residential homes blending with the local amenities – a small playground, a tiny school, a grocery store, and a gas station. Before her, the one bar, with its rough no-nonsense exterior, and behind her, Sissi’s diner. A typical American joint with its candy colours, chrome exterior and great big windows. What a contrast. Heaven and hell facing off against one another and she stepped towards her fellow avenging angel on instinct.

To see Sissi, to sneak a confidence-boosting hug…

But the diner looked busy which meant her friend was busy and she’d already done enough phoning Astrid in. She didn’t need to be involved in this as well as everything else.

She jumped as the door to the bar slammed open.

‘Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to spook ya!’ A grey-haired rocker rolled out, his smile friendly enough, the biker badge on his back as he swung his leg over his Harley, less so. Was he seriously going to ride that inthisweather? With those fumes coming off him?

‘You lost?’

She shook her head and he gave a laugh, revving his engine and making her startle.

‘If I was you, I’d carry on walking; they’ll eat you alive in there.’

Great.Just what her jiggly nerves needed to hear.

‘I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.’

He held her gaze as he backed his bike out, curiosity rather than concern creasing up his brow and then he was off, his words hanging heavy in the petrol infused air.

Don’t listen to him, Sinclair.

This was small town Massachusetts. What was the worst that could happen?

You’re the one about to confront the man who terrorised his family for almost two decades…

But she had witnesses, plenty of witnesses judging by the noise, and since when had she been too afraid to get the story? Never.

Tightening her cashmere coat, she reached for the door and?—

‘Astrid!’

Sissi…?

She spun on her heel to find her friend running down the steps of the diner, tugging a jacket over her pink checkered uniform. ‘Wait up!’

‘Honey, what are you doing?’ she hollered over a passing truck. ‘You’re supposed to be working!’

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