Page 85 of Deathmarch
“Let’s talk about that when I get home.” And before she could argue, he added, “I have to go. I’ve had a development in the murder case.”
And then she was listening to the dial tone.
Finnegan’s was mostly empty, only a half a dozen people at the tables, the lunch crowd done and gone, and the time way too early for dinner. Allie hobbled up to the unmanned bar with its rich dark wood, the gleaming copper features.
The place had a homey feel, probably owing to the fact that it was a family business. As she slid onto a stool, she wondered what it must be like to have something like this, the sheer stability a family represented, roots, people around you who unquestioningly had your back.
She wasnotlonely, she told herself then. She wasnotlonging for more than what she had. She was a strong, independent woman.
Kennan sailed through the door in the back and ran his gaze over her. “Are you all right? Do you need help upstairs? You should have called down.”
“Just here for coffee.” Allie smiled at him. She didn’t feel comfortable enough with Harper’s family to place orders on the phone. “I needed to get out. Also, I wanted to thank you for the bail money again. If you could tell me what the fee was, I’d like to pay you for that.”
“No rush.”
“I’ll be leaving in a couple of days.”
“Does Harper know that?”
Allie wasn’t sure how to interpret the question, so she didn’t say anything.
“How do you drink your coffee?” Kennan asked, oblivious to the attention his wide shoulders were drawing from a handful of female customers at a table by the front.
He did have that hot warrior vibe about him, Allie thought. Always had, yet Kennan had never gotten under her skin like Harper managed. “Two sugars, two half-and-halfs.”
He stepped to the pot in the back of the bar and poured, set the sugar and the half-and-halfs on the saucer, then brought it over.
The scent of strong dark coffee alone was enough to make Allie relax. She reached into her back pocket and put a fiver on the bar. “Thanks.”
Kennan pushed the money back. “On the house.” He smiled at her, his smile too alike to Harper’s for comfort. “Great performance the other night.”
“You were there?”
“Sorry I didn’t stay to say hi. I had to light out before the Q&A. I was supposed to work the bar.” His smile widened. “Nice outfit.”
The way he said it had some extra meaning Allie couldn’t decipher. She raised an eyebrow.
“Harper has a thing for the Wild West. He’s seenDeadwoodhalf a dozen times.” Kennan grabbed a dishcloth to wipe a few droplets of water off the bar before leaning a hip against it, a pose that, Allie could swear, made the women around the table at the front sigh. “Every year, we have a Halloween party here. He’s Sheriff Bullock every damn year. It’s getting boring.”
Allie bit back a grin as she finished her coffee. “I’m going to store that information for later. What else can you tell me about him that’s embarrassing?”
“He’d kill me.”
“I’ll protect you.”
Kennan laughed.
She tilted her head. “You don’t think I’m tough enough, Soldier Boy?”
“Marine Man. At the very least.” Kennan pointed at her with the dishcloth before adding, “I’ll admit, you looked tough enough on stage with that rifle. Do you have that at the schools too, when you do shows?”
“Not the rifle. No guns in schools. Not after all the shooter drills those kids have been through. If they want Wild West, I usually do Calamity Jane, minus the swearing.”
“What? The swearing is the best part. Gimme some.” He grinned.
He was so charming, it was difficult to resist him.
She pretended to spit some imaginary chewing tobacco into a pretend spittoon at her feet, then narrowed her eyes at him, pulling up her Calamity Jane tone. “Fox-fucking, horseshit-hacking son of a bitch!” And while Kennan bent over laughing, she switched back to Allie. “See? Plenty tough.”
