Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Ace stared at it. They’d known he’d consent. He scrawled his name. “My truck’s right out front. I’ll catch a ride back with my brother.”
Paige sighed, looking almost sorrowful. “You lied to us, Ace. One more chance. Tell us where you were last night.”
His chin lowered. “I’m done talking to you.” It wouldn’t matter where he went last night because nobody could corroborate his whereabouts, anyway.
“It’s your funeral,” Jeb said, standing. “Let’s go.”
Paige remained cool and steady. “I’m going to caution you to stay in town. I have a feeling we’re going to be arresting you.”
“I didn’t murder that woman.” Ace stood and walked to the door.
Daisy grabbed her briefcase and beat him there, opening it and pushing him through. Her heels clip-clopped behind him.
Ace walked down the hall into the reception area.
“You son of a bitch!” A hard body slammed into him, propelling him back against the wall. Ace shoved forward on instinct, looking down.
Tyler.
“You killed her,” Tyler snarled, his face turning beet red. A vicious black eye bloomed from Ace’s punch the day before. “You son of a bitch.”
“Whoa.” Brock stepped between them and shoved Tyler back. “Knock it off.”
Tyler’s blond hair hung wild, mussed into his eyes, where fury burned bright. “You killed her, you asshole. How could you do that?”
“I didn’t,” Ace snapped.
“Liar!” Tyler spat, a snot bubble popping out of his nostril.
Brock grabbed Ace’s arm and pulled him toward the door. “Come on, Ace.”
Ace stumbled forward. “We need to talk.”
Brock’s grip tightened. “No shit.”
Chapter Eight
Her stomach rumbling, May took a detour into Sam’s Tavern and headed up to the counter, where Amka was busily filling mugs of beer. The place was loud tonight. Glasses clinked, chairs scraped, and laughter rose and fell in uneven bursts. The scent of fried food, yeast, and spilled ale hung thick in the air. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Amka looked up and brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from her eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, but I was going to run down to the Green Plate and get a salad.”
Sam’s Tavern had great food, but salad wasn’t usually the star of the menu. Amka chuckled. “I don’t blame you.” She loaded the beers onto a tray and moved toward the end of the bar, shoulders tight from the weight.
“Hey,” May called after her. “I wasn’t at the office earlier, and I heard you came by.”
Amka returned, her gaze shifting toward a far table packed with tourists. “I made an appointment for tomorrow after the lunch rush.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I have a couple of questions.” Amka twisted her wrist and then flexed her fingers. “You’ll be there?”
May studied her friend. “Of course I’ll be there. I’ll be there tonight if you want.”
“No.” Amka waved a hand and then stretched her back, wincing.
May’s smile faded. “Oh no. Is your back hurting you again?” Amka had been in an explosion earlier that spring, and she’d had issues since. May had prescribed heat and rest, but she might have to send her to a specialist in one of the cities.
Amka bit her lip. “Definitely.”
“That tray’s not helping.” May understood one of Amka’s fears was not being able to work at the tavern. She loved it there.
“I know, but Daisy’s been busy,” Amka said.
May looked at a trio of men in flannels playing pool by the back door. They had several empty bottles on a table near them. “You should get more help for the summer.”
“I put out a sign, but there aren’t a lot of people in town looking for jobs, believe it or not,” Amka sighed.
May tapped her lips. She’d help, but she was always on call during the summer. During all the seasons, actually. “What about the Miller boys?” The kids stocked the warming huts during the winters and helped shovel driveways after school.
“They started their own landscaping business. They’ve also been giving river rafting tours.”
“That’s actually a good idea.” There was probably a lot more money in landscaping and rafting tours than waitressing. May sighed. “I wish I could help.”
Amka laughed softly. “So do I.” She looked toward the door. “I just don’t want Christian dropping everything to help me. He’s made to be a Wildlife Trooper, and I want him to go to the training without worrying about everything.”
The guy did seem dedicated. “Then you have to be more careful.” May gestured toward the tray. “Get rid of that. From now on, two glasses at a time.”
“I don’t have time for two glasses at a time.”
“Your spine disagrees,” May said.
Amka rolled her eyes and turned away, maneuvering expertly through tables to reach the trio in the back. There had to be something May could do to help. Her mind spinning, she started toward the door.
“May.”
The voice stopped her cold.
She jolted and turned to see Kyle sitting at a table toward the end of the bar. Even seated, he carried an unmistakable presence. Calm. Polished. Controlled. The hum of conversation seemed to bend around him. He smiled. “It’s so good to see you. Why don’t you join me for dinner?”