Page 98 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“In that case, I’ll have some, thank you.”

Willie set a cup and saucer on the bar, picked up a pot, and poured the coffee.

“I see the boss let you out on your own this morning,” she said. “Does that mean he thinks your problem has been resolved?”

Irene drummed her fingers on the counter. “I suppose everyone on the staff knows that Oliver thinks I need round-the-clock security.”

“Sure. We also know that you helped get him out of that burning warehouse the other night.”

Irene sipped some coffee. “As I keep pointing out to people, it was my fault that he was in that warehouse in the first place.”

Willie picked up another glass and started polishing it. “The boss makes his own rules. If he was there with you, it was because he wanted to be there.”

“That’s more or less what he told me.”

“It’s the truth. We all know he’s worried about your safety. He’s always had good security here at the hotel, but during the past few days he’s given orders to double down on the routine patrols, and he’s cranked up the lighting at night. The grounds are lit up like a stage at three in the morning now. That said, you seem to be running free today.”

Irene wrinkled her nose. “For a while. He’s handling some business in his office. I didn’t want to sit there, staring at him or reading a magazine while he made telephone calls and did whatever hotel executives do. He figured I’d be safe here in the bar.”

“He’s right. We’ve got good security in here, too. There’s a button I can push if I don’t like what’s going on. One of the guards would be here in a minute or two at the most.”

“That’s good to know.” Irene patted her handbag. “I’m not helpless. I’ve got a gun.”

“So do I,” Willie said. She held the martini glass up to the light to check her work. “I keep it under the bar.”

Interest and curiosity sparked in Irene’s eyes. “Really?”

“Old habit from the days when we were on the road. Some towns were rougher than others. Every so often some jerk decided to rob the ticket office or hassle one of the assistants.”

“You, for instance?”

Willie gave her a humorless smile. “Me, for instance.”

“Does Oliver know about the gun under the bar?”

“Yes.”

“He told me he doesn’t like guns.”

“What do you expect? He almost got killed by one.”

“He says guns give people a false sense of security. He says you never know when one will jam on you.”

“Sounds like the two of you had an extensive conversation on the subject.”

“Uh-huh.” Irene drank some more coffee and put the cup down with great care. “Once, in another life, I had an employer who owned a gun. But in the end it didn’t do her any good. She was murdered by some bastard who used a knife.”

“What happened?”

“She made the mistake of trusting the wrong person.”

“Trust is a dangerous thing.”

“Yes, it is,” Irene said. “But you get very lonely if you don’t have someone you can trust.”

“You can trust the boss.”

Irene smiled. “He obviously trusts you.”

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