Page 16 of Dusty
Stay calm. Don’t draw their attention.
She moved through the restaurant, refilling cups, checking on the few remaining customers, knowing she couldn’t avoid the newcomers forever. Maybe if she could just avoid their direct gaze, they wouldn’t recognize her. She’d dyed her hair, the colored contacts were in. Her new look had fooled others before.
But when she risked a glance, the woman stared directly at her, head tilted in recognition. She whispered something to her companions, and one of the men pulled out his phone, glancing between the screen and Sharon.
They have my picture.
“Order up!” Daisy called from the kitchen.
Sharon nearly jumped out of her skin. The plates of chicken fried steak were for the booth by the window. Daisy had taken their order, while Sharon had slipped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, trying to keep the panic at bay. But it was up to Sharon to deliver it, since Daisy was back in the kitchen. There was no avoiding them now. Grabbing the order, she approached with leaden feet, setting the plates down without making eye contact.
“Can I get y’all anything else?” she asked, forcing her voice into the local accent she’d been practicing.
“Actually,” the woman said, her Chicago accent slicing through Sharon’s pretense, “I think you can help us,Sharon.”
The name hit her like a physical blow. She backed away, bumping into another table.
“I’m sorry, you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“Have I?” The woman removed her sunglasses, revealing cold blue eyes. “Cooper sends his regards. He’s been worried sick about you, running off like that.”
Sharon felt the room spin. Cooper Madison never worried; he hunted. And he destroyed what he caught.
“Everything okay over here?” Daisy appeared at her side, her normally cheerful face creased with concern.
“Fine,” Sharon whispered. “I just—I don’t feel well.”
“You do look awfully pale,” Daisy said, placing a maternal hand on her forehead. “Why don’t you take your break now?”
The trio watched her with predatory focus. If she left now, they’d follow. If she stayed, everyone inside the diner could be in danger. While she didn’t expect Cooper’s people to make a move in front of witnesses, nobody could claim they were known for their restraint either. And in the weeks since she’d fled Chicago, Cooper was getting desperate. Who knew what his orders were to these latest recruits.
“I think I need to go home and lie down,” Sharon said, the lie burning her tongue. “I’m sorry to leave you short-handed.”
“Don’t you worry about that. You just take care of yourself.” Daisy’s kind eyes searched hers. “Want me to call Dusty to come pick you up?”
Dusty.
Just his name sent a pang through her chest. Dusty. With his slow smile and steady hands. The man who’d rescued her when she’d first approached Shiloh Springs, even though she hadn’t realized she needed rescuing. The man who’d slowly coaxed genuine smiles from her over cups of coffee and walks through the town square.
The man she couldn’t bear to endanger.
“No,” Sharon said quickly. “I can walk. It’s not far.”
Daisy frowned. “If you’re sure…”
“I am. Thank you—for everything.”
Sharon untied her apron with trembling fingers, acutely aware of the trio watching her every move. She retreated to the back room, grabbing her coat and purse from her locker. Drawing in a deep breath, she realized this was probably the last time she’d be in this diner, and she hated leaving. Not just because she was leaving Daisy in a lurch, but she’d actually enjoyed working here. Doing something that put a smile on people’s faces. Now, because of Cooper, she was going to have to run, leave behind these people who’d given her a shot at a second chance. People who’d believed her when she told them what Cooper had done and were trying to help her.
Through the kitchen’s back window, she could see the alley behind the diner. It was empty now, but for how long? They would expect her to run that way. They’d have anticipated it. Did they have another person waiting for her outside, somebody who’d grab her the second she stepped out the back door?
Her mind raced through various scenarios. She could call Dusty, but what would she say?Hi, some hitmen from my psychopathic ex-fiancé are here to take me back to Chicago so he can kill me?She’d been careful of how much she’d shared of her past with anyone in Shiloh Springs. Antonio knew most of it. He’d been willing to trust her, to investigate her claims. She’d given him the small amount of evidence she’d kept with her, but she hadn’t yet given him everything she’d hidden in San Antonio. He might be an FBI agent, but she’d learned the hard way not to completely trust anybody. Even though Ms. Patti vouched for him—claimed he could be trusted—she was his mother, so she might be a little biased.
The back door beckoned. Her instinct screamed at her to flee, to keep running as she had for the past weeks. But something else held her back. Ms. Patti’s kindness when she’d stumbled into town with nothing but a fabricated story and haunted by everything that happened in Chicago. Daisy’s trust in hiring herwith no references. The way the townsfolk had welcomed her, no questions asked. And Dusty…
Dusty, who looked at her like she mattered. Like she was worth protecting.
“Sharon?” Daisy pushed through the swinging door, her gaze meeting Sharon’s. “Those folks are asking about you. Said they’re old friends of yours from back home.” Her usual cheerful expression hardened into something suspicious. “Thing is, they don’t seem like friends to me.”
