“Okay, so if we’re missing three bottles of whiskey and two of vodka, either someone stole them, or they got tossed during cleanup,” Britta said, tapping the paper with her pen.
“Or Twister drank them,” Tempi muttered.
“I heard that,” Twister called from across the room.
“Good,” Tempi shot back.“Then stop pretending like it’s not true.”
Wheels barked out a laugh from where he was messing with a piece of drywall.
Gramps shook his head, muttering something about “children running businesses.”
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Britta.She moved like herself again.No hesitation.No careful guarding of her shoulder.No slight wince she used to try to hide.
Back to normal.
Or at least as close as we were gonna get with everything breathing down our necks.
That should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t.
Because normal meant doors opening and people coming in.And danger having a front-row seat again.
I tipped my head toward Twister.“I’m gonna go check on Cord.”
He nodded once.“Yeah.”
I pushed off the wall and headed for the door.The sun hit me the second I stepped outside.
Bright.
Warm.
Blinding after being inside most of the day.
Cord was leaning against the side of the building, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he watched the street like he was counting every damn person that passed by.
Good.
That’s what I wanted.
I moved up next to him, pulling a cigarette from my pack and lighting it.“How’s it going?”I asked.
Nothing.
I glanced over at him.“You good, brother?”
“Don’t know,” he said.
That got my attention.I took a drag, letting the smoke settle in my lungs before I exhaled slowly.“You wanna cut the shit and tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”
He nodded across the street.“That guy.”
I followed his line of sight.“There are at least ten people over there, Cord.Be a little more specific.”
“Black ball cap.Dark sunglasses.Jeans.Sitting on the bench.”
I spotted him.
Head down and his eyes on the phone in his hand.
