“I mean no harm,” he explained. “We’re friends. You can ask him yourself.”
“He’s not here.”
Holt glanced toward the back, wondering if he’d slipped out when Holt came in. He wouldn’t put it past the man.
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“I’m not Rafe’s keeper, Mr. Callahan.”
“Okay, then.” Clearly, he wasn’t going to get anything more from her on the subject, so he switched again. “Your shop is lovely. If you’re ever looking for authors to do signings, I know quite a few. Several who write children’s books if that’s the audience you target. Just let me know.”
“I assume that means you’re here permanently?”
“The foreseeable future,” he corrected. “The more I learn about this town, the more appeal it seems to have.”
“Well, thank you for the generous offer. And if I see Rafe, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”
Taking that as a dismissal, Holt skimmed the room again before heading for the door.
As he walked outside, his brain was working overtime trying to figure out why Violet Anderson seemed so protective of Rafe. Were they in a relationship? Or was it something else entirely?
Chapter Ten
Rafe walked into the diner a littlebefore six. He stopped in every night he worked to grab a meal hearty enough to tide him over until closing time. When he’d first arrived in town a few years ago, they hadn’t welcomed him the way they did now. The fact his family tree branched out from the Walkers—Lorrie Walker was his aunt—went a long way in getting people to stop giving him the side eye when he walked by. At least those who respected the Walkers.
Plenty didn’t, and unfortunately, those people had to eat too.
“I wonder if they checked him for weapons at the door,” someone muttered from a nearby table.
It amazed him that they couldn’t come up with something more clever.
Rafe ignored them. He didn’t give a shit what people said about him as long as it didn’t hurt anyone he cared about. When they dragged innocent people in, he tended to take offense. When it didn’t … well, he’d learned how to be the verbal punching bag for every asshole in this town.
“Yeah, thanks,” a deep voice said from a booth to his right.
Rafe glanced over to see the back of Holt’s head. He was facing away from Rafe, likely the only reason he hadn’t engaged him in conversation. He knew Holt hadn’t given up after his failed attempt last night because Violet had informed him that he’d come by the bookstore inquiring about Rafe’s whereabouts. Thankfully, she hadn’t told Holt where Rafe lived, so he figured he still had at least one place to go to avoid the man.
When Holt stood and tossed his napkin on the table, Rafe tipped his head, letting his cap shield his face.
“You can’t hide from me forever,” Holt said as he passed. “We’re gonna talk.”
“Nothin’ left to say.” Rafe realized his mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Holt would’ve continued toward the door if he hadn’t engaged the man.
“You might not,” Holt stated, turning to face him. “But I’ve got a few things to get off my chest.”
Rafe was tempted to tell him to lay it all out now because he wouldn’t get another chance, but knowing Holt, he would. And Rafe got enough shit from the residents of this small town. No reason to add more ridicule.
“Hey, Mister. You might wanna be careful with him. He’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Ah, hell.
Rafe met Holt’s gaze. He shook his head, urging Holt not to respond, but he knew it was pointless.
Holt slowly turned, then walked toward the table of teenagers. His tone was cool and calm when he said, “Anyone ever hear of a spoiler alert?”
The kids glanced at one another. “What?”
“Spoiler alert,” Holt repeated. “It’s what you say when you’re about to give away something crucial to the plot, and you’re not sure whether your audience has read the book or watched the movie.”
