Page 44 of Never Fear (Whiskey Ridge)
The same way I think the taste of her awakened something else in me—something I’d kept buried for a long, long time.
Desire for revenge.
Chapter 18
McKenna
Afew hours after Austin opened up to me about his parents, he’d fallen asleep next to me in my bed. He’d insisted we eat in there together, and what Austin wants, he apparently gets. I was working the closing shift at work today, and I hadn’t had the heart to wake him, even though he’d be pissed at me for that later.
By the looks of it, he’d stayed up all night, and as much as he wanted to be awake at all hours to pretend to be my bodyguard, the man needed sleep in order to function.
I’d almost forgotten about Austin’s hand in killing my boss when I walked into the diner, but was quickly reminded when I found the cook, Brynne, and Tasha huddled by the register. A quick survey of the building showed two tables full. All the others were bare.
“What’s up?” I asked, mustering the most casual tone I could. Brynne shot me a knowing look, but kept it discreet enough that the others wouldn’t catch on. I didn’t miss the hint of suspicion there, either. She wanted details on last night.
The cook, Dan, raised a paper in the air. “Says here boss skipped town.”
I joined them, scanning the typed note. At least we didn’t have to worry about matching handwriting.
“Looks like Marv left the diner to his daughter,” Dan continued. He was almost entirely bald now, hiding it below a chef’s hat every day. He typically kept to himself, but whenever drama arose, he couldn’t help but interfere.
“I didn’t even know he had a daughter,” Tasha chimed in. Her uniform was identical to ours, her red hair in a high ponytail, her curls unruly where they dangled free.
Digging into Marv’s family tree had to be Booker’s doing, if history was anything to go by. “Weird.” I shimmied out of my coat, draping it over my arm. “Do we know when she’s showing up?” I glanced at the two couples currently eating a late lunch. “Should we even be open today?”
Dan shrugged, the wrinkles framing his mouth creasing as his lips pursed. “It’s just business as usual. Ain’t too hard to keep cooking.”
I cocked a brow. “Have you been cooking, or staring at this note all day?”
He raised his palms in mock innocence. “Call a guy curious. Nothin’ interesting happens back in the kitchen.”
I tugged on the hem of my skirt. “Wanna switch?”
He looked like he’d rather dig his own grave. “I think I got food burnin’.” With that, he disappeared through the swinging door. Dan hated socializing, so the thought of actually serving meals to the patrons gave him the ick.
The woman at one of the tables raised a hand forTasha’s attention, and she hurried off to get them whatever they needed. Brynne stayed put, eyeing me.
“Wonder where he went,” I said, doing my best to make casual conversation like any normal person would when their boss suddenly up and disappeared.
Brynne set the note back on the register where I assumed they’d found it. “Probably finally found a girlfriend and followed her to some place better than Whiskey Ridge.”
I nodded. “Probably.” I lifted my jacket in a subtle sign to follow me to the back, and she dipped her chin. We headed through the kitchen door, and as we passed, I snuck a quick look inside the office.
There wasn’t a speck of blood to be found. No evidence that anything of the murder variety had gone on in there. How Booker, Austin, and Henley got away with this shit, I had no idea. It was likely best I didn’t find out.
I popped open my janky metal locker and stuffed my jacket inside.
“Long night with Austin?” Brynne asked, leaning a shoulder against the greasy wall.
“Not for the reasons you’re thinking.” It took two tries for the locker to click shut.
“Oh, I know. Booker thinks he’s sneaky, but I felt him leave. If I wasn’t so tired from our earlier…activities, I would’ve followed his ass had I known where he was going.”
I winced slightly, chewing a little too hard on my gum. “Sorry. I would’ve called, but it was the middle of the night.”
She waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. But if youthink you’ll get away with anything like that a second time, you’re mistaken. I only let the best friend excuse slide so many times—I’ll forgive you for now. But from now on, I want to know when shit like that happens.”
“Shit like what?” an unfamiliar voice asked, the feminine pitch coming off deeper than any of our coworkers.
