Their entire conversation took place in whispers that might appear to be an argument to outsiders.
Before she could say more, their meals arrived. He picked up his burger and took two big bites before she ever lifted her fork.
He leaned back, reached into his pocket and fished out the pills. When he cupped his palm and tossed them into his mouth, at least one guest at the nearby table was looking. He swallowed with only a sip of soda before he continued eating.
Opal did the same, both keeping an eye on him and alternately scanning the room with a nervousness meant to draw attention.
“This is good.” His words were a little thick.
She pushed a piece of chicken around her plate to appear agitated.
After a few minutes, he let his head dip slightly and his eyelids droop. “Ahh, that’s better. You think you can get me more?”
Her gaze sharpened, but she didn’t miss a beat. “When I’m at work.”
They leaned toward each other, voices dropping into not-so-discreet whispers.
“How will you do it?”
“I’ll go out at lunch. Find someone.” She darted a look around. “Not here.”
He let his eyes go a bit unfocused. “Fine. Later.”
Sinner was dialed in to those around them and took note of the way one couple paused mid-conversation and how the server slowed as he passed.
Suddenly, he let his hand go limp, the last few bites of the burger rolling onto the plate.
He forced his shoulders to sag and let his head loll to the side as if the drugs were finally kicking in.
His chin dropped to his chest.
“Oh no. Mike!” Opal’s loud whisper could wake a dead man and garnered a lot more attention. Through his slitted eyes, he saw a woman point at him and her two companions twist in their seats.
Opal patted his hand. “Mike? I told you not to take those pills before you had food in your system!” She hurriedly glanced around, chewing at her tormented bottom lip.
Footsteps approached, light but hesitant.
“Hey,” Opal said softly. “Mike!”
He didn’t respond.
She squeezed his forearm, harder this time. “Sweetie.”
He damn near cracked a smile at her endearment. He was just trying to decide if the tension in her tone was there for others or because the pet name didn’t roll off her tongue easily.
He remained still.
The server stopped beside the table. “Uh, ma’am. Is he okay?”
She adjusted her grip on his arm as if she was holding him upright while playing the part of a woman who was used to this.
“No, but thank you,” she said gently. “He’s not feeling well.” Her voice sweetened like she was smoothing over an inconvenience instead of managing a crisis. “It’s okay. He’ll wake up in a few minutes. Give us a bit?”
Sinner couldn’t see her face but damn, she was convincing. He also heard the note of exhaustion riding beneath the practiced calm of someone who’d done this before—often.
She was good. Too good. Either she excelled at acting or had firsthand experience.
“Of course,” the server said quickly. “Let me know if you need anything.”
