[Continued: To start at the beginning click here.]
She felt bad for Manny, their dishwasher, who had to be stuck in the kitchen with Reece for the rest of the night.
She thought about following her brother and forcing him to talk to her, but what was the point? He’d either take his bad mood out on her or whine about having to work on Friday night, and she’d heard it all before. Love’s had been opened by their grandparents back in the days when Mill Avenue had a producing flour mill and Tempe, Arizona, had been a sleepy town. When their father had died, the bar became theirs. It was a piece of their heritage that they all held on to, even though lately it felt more like labor than love.
With a frustrated sigh, she went back to work, but business was slow and her two customers had full drinks. She wiped the bar, forcing herself not to look at the man in the corner or the stain on the ceiling.
But she couldn’t help it. Every few minutes she glanced up, eyeing the splotch balefully. Unable to shake the feeling that it was some kind of omen.
She couldn’t stop peeping at the stranger in the back either. He sat alone, nursing his Wild Turkey, pretending to mind his own business. But he was still watching her. She could feel it.
If he was a cop, why was he watching her?
And what did his presence have to do with Reece being strung so tight? The last time her brother had been such an ass-hat, bad things had happened. Things she didn’t even like to remember. The thought of living through them again made her bones ache.
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