Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Caution whispered through Christian. “Excuse me?”
“Yep. We’ve got at least three murdered victims with their eyes removed, and we can’t identify even one of them.”
Well, shit.
Chapter 8
After staying the night with May, back at the tavern, Amka took two ibuprofen from the drawer below the register and swallowed them dry. She nodded at Lucas Landom as he took his normal to-go order of two breakfast burritos and headed out the door. The tanker chief was predictable, if nothing else.
The breakfast rush had wrapped, and the place had settled into its usual mid-morning rhythm. Down the street, Janet and Gus had the diner open all day now, drawing the early regulars with pancakes and chatter, which meant fewer greasy orders on Amka’s grill in the morning and more time to breathe. It was good. She liked the tavern better in the off-hours, when she could hear herself think and wipe down counters that didn’t need it yet.
The door opened. A man stepped inside wearing a sun-worn pack and trail dust on his jeans. He had tan skin, was clean-shaven, and moved with a calm, steady way that held grace. He glanced around, gave her a small nod with his blond head, and headed to the bar. “Hi there. Could I get a Bloody Mary?” He slid onto a stool and rested his arms on the counter.
“You’ve got it.” She pulled the vodka and mix from the cooler and reached for a glass.
“My name’s Steve Coldtrap. I’m doing the challenge.” He watched her make the drink.
She added olives, lemon, and celery, not rushing. She’d been hearing about the beef jerky contest all morning. “The fifty grand thing?”
He smiled. “That’s the one. I need to interview one person from Knife’s Edge to enter the contest. Would you be willing to answer a few questions?”
She placed the drink in front of him. “No thanks. You’re the fourth influencer to ask today.” It was doubtful many locals were agreeing to that part of the contest. “Also, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t film in here. Even though it’s public, most folks don’t like that.”
He lifted his hands. “No problem. My phone’s in my pocket.” He took a sip and gave her an approving nod. “That’s solid. You don’t skimp on the heat.”
She wiped the counter and gave a half smile without looking up.
“You’d look good on camera,” he murmured.
“I appreciate that,” she replied.
He looked her over again, slow but not creepy, like he was cataloging something interesting. “Whole picture’s working, if I’m being honest.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “You might want to slow down.”
“I’m just making observations.”
The door opened again, and Jarod strolled in with his sunglasses hooked in the collar of his T-shirt, his sleeves pushed up, a faint sunburn across his nose. He walked with ease, wearing what looked like new boots. He stepped up beside Steve and leaned against the bar, casually, like he owned a stake in it. “What’s going on?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Amka.
“Nothing,” she said, reaching for the rag again. Did he know she’d spent the night at May’s? Why would he?
“I’m Steve,” the other man said, holding out his hand.
“Jarod.” He shook it, firm and fast. “Are you here for the fishing derby?”
Steve shook his head. “No. I’m working on the jerky contest and am trying to talk to folks who actually live here. It’s one of the requirements for each small town we hit. I just asked the pretty bartender if she’d be up for a quick interview.”
Jarod glanced at her. “Don’t tell me. She said no?”
“Yup, but I haven’t poured on the charm yet,” Steve said.
Amka chuckled. The man had charm, that was for sure. But who made a living chasing contests around the world by making social media videos? Of course, maybe most people wanted to travel. She’d always liked it right here in Knife’s Edge.
Jarod snorted. “Amka is no fun, but I am. How about you interview me? I’m a local.”
Steve turned toward him. “That would be fantastic.” He glanced back at Amka. “But I’m sure you’re wrong about her. She’s too pretty to be boring.”
Now Amka had to roll her eyes.
“She’s pretty and she knows it.” Jarod shifted his stance and looked at Steve. “However, since we’re friends now, I’d like to take you out to where I’ll be building the next motel and maybe get some early interest in the place.”
Steve straightened. “So long as I get the interview, finally, I’ll go anywhere you want.”
“Excellent. Give me a few minutes.” Jarod clapped him on the back and moved on, scanning his phone as he walked down the bar.
Amka took the coffee pot and made a slow pass through the room, topping off mugs, clearing a plate, wiping down a small ring of syrup left on one table. She returned to the bar as Steve set his glass down. “Hey, could I get a water?”