Page 2 of Property of Bob

“It kind of does.”

The corner of his mouth moved, but only slightly. “You always argue with people thirty seconds after meeting them?”

“Only when they start it.”

That got more of a reaction. Not quite a smile, but close. He jerked his chin toward the RV. “Everything okay?”

I glanced over my shoulder at it. “Define okay.”

“Running would probably be a good start.”

“Then no.”

“What happened?”

“It died.”

His eyes moved over the RV. “I got that.”

“Well, there you go. Mystery solved.”

He studied me for a second, and I got the distinct feeling he was trying to decide whether I was annoying or entertaining. I had experience with both.

“Need a tow?” he asked.

“Eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“I need to find someone first.”

His expression changed slightly. It wasn’t much, but whatever amusement had been there disappeared. “Who?”

Finally. I shifted the bag on my shoulder again. “Ashland Moore.”

Nothing. Not even the slightest flicker of recognition.

I frowned. “Ashland Moore?”

“Don’t know him.”

“Yes, you do.”

His eyebrows lifted again. “Pretty sure I’d know who I know.”

“He lives here.”

“No Ashland lives here.”

I stared at him.

He stared back.

“You’re with the Kings of Anarchy, right?”

He glanced down at his cut like he needed to double-check. “Last I checked.”

“And this is Skull Island?”