jerked back, startled that the deed she’d planned wasn’t done by her own hand. She looked to her left and inwardly groaned at the sight of O’Hanlon holding Walker’s head against the bar.
He barked at the other man to leave, and Walker’s cousin bolted for the door as fast as his inebriated body could move.
Nic became aware of the lack of voices in the pub. She glanced at the mirror, glimpsing the piercing gazes. Irritation clawed at her nerves. How dare they eavesdrop. This was going to be all over town by 9:00 a.m. tomorrow, and if there was repeat with the gossipmongers from past experiences, Nic would be painted as the instigator in this situation. That thought inflamed her anger.
“Doug, I warned you after your fourth beer that if you stirred up trouble in my mam’s place, you’d have me to deal with.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Yet. Be glad it was me who slammed your face into the bar and not Nic.”
Walker squirmed. “What are you talkin’ ’bout?”
O’Hanlon leaned over Walker’s ear and spoke so only he and Nic could hear. “You know there’s a reason why the sheriff had her take that shot. Right now, she’s loaded for bear. I just saved you the agony of having to visit the ER tonight with a bullet in your leg and being out of work for weeks.”
Nic heard Walker swallow above the sound of the music.
With a final shove, O’Hanlon released Nic’s coworker. Quickly, the other man thrust himself upright. His eyes darted to Nic then back to O’Hanlon. Adjusting his clothing, Walker backed away, about-faced, and exited the pub.
“Fun’s over, folks. Enjoy your specials.”
Everyone returned to their food.
Nic had a few seconds to relax before O’Hanlon pointed at her and then a backroom door to her left where he headed. Gathering her drink glass, she slid off the stool and followed him inside the pub office. O’Hanlon shut the door behind her.
Being hyper-vigilant was a curse. She was too aware of every movement he made as he shifted around her to sit on the corner of the desk and the musky scent of male and fried food that clung to him. Nic tossed back the rest of the ginger ale. She wasn’t drunk this time, and her body was reacting to him the same way it had last night. Being a sex-deprived female was another damn curse.
“What are you doing, Nic?”
“Walker was the one—”
“I ain’t talking about Doug. We all know he’s a horse’s arse. What are you doing here? I believe you were told to lay low until this thing blows over.”
She rolled the glass in her hand, staring at the bottom and wishing it had something stronger in it. Suddenly, it disappeared from her grasp. O’Hanlon set the glass down on the desk with a clunk and resumed his spot on the corner. “Are you asking to have your career cut short because you can’t follow a few direct orders?”
“I never asked to be the one to shoot Dusty. Damn it, O’Hanlon, he killed his wife. What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him kill the kids, too?” She pointed at the door. “None of these backwoods rednecks gives a damn about that li’l piece of information.”
“And why do you let it bother you that they don’t?”
She staggered at his question. Why did she care? She didn’t. Deflect.
“It makes my job easier if they aren’t hanging around like vultures, waiting for me to give them a reason to tear into my flesh.”
The penetrating stare he gave her warned he wasn’t buying her line.
“How long have you lived here, O’Hanlon?”
He crossed his arms over his thick chest, straining the sleeves of his brown T-shirt. Nic’s mouth went dry at the sight. She ground her molars together to squelch the desire burning a path through her body.
“Long enough to know that these people are good folks and they haven’t dealt with the kinds of things you have. When they want answers, they’re used to getting it straight. What happened yesterday with Dusty bothers them.”
“So, they take it
He barked at the other man to leave, and Walker’s cousin bolted for the door as fast as his inebriated body could move.
Nic became aware of the lack of voices in the pub. She glanced at the mirror, glimpsing the piercing gazes. Irritation clawed at her nerves. How dare they eavesdrop. This was going to be all over town by 9:00 a.m. tomorrow, and if there was repeat with the gossipmongers from past experiences, Nic would be painted as the instigator in this situation. That thought inflamed her anger.
“Doug, I warned you after your fourth beer that if you stirred up trouble in my mam’s place, you’d have me to deal with.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Yet. Be glad it was me who slammed your face into the bar and not Nic.”
Walker squirmed. “What are you talkin’ ’bout?”
O’Hanlon leaned over Walker’s ear and spoke so only he and Nic could hear. “You know there’s a reason why the sheriff had her take that shot. Right now, she’s loaded for bear. I just saved you the agony of having to visit the ER tonight with a bullet in your leg and being out of work for weeks.”
Nic heard Walker swallow above the sound of the music.
With a final shove, O’Hanlon released Nic’s coworker. Quickly, the other man thrust himself upright. His eyes darted to Nic then back to O’Hanlon. Adjusting his clothing, Walker backed away, about-faced, and exited the pub.
“Fun’s over, folks. Enjoy your specials.”
Everyone returned to their food.
Nic had a few seconds to relax before O’Hanlon pointed at her and then a backroom door to her left where he headed. Gathering her drink glass, she slid off the stool and followed him inside the pub office. O’Hanlon shut the door behind her.
Being hyper-vigilant was a curse. She was too aware of every movement he made as he shifted around her to sit on the corner of the desk and the musky scent of male and fried food that clung to him. Nic tossed back the rest of the ginger ale. She wasn’t drunk this time, and her body was reacting to him the same way it had last night. Being a sex-deprived female was another damn curse.
“What are you doing, Nic?”
“Walker was the one—”
“I ain’t talking about Doug. We all know he’s a horse’s arse. What are you doing here? I believe you were told to lay low until this thing blows over.”
She rolled the glass in her hand, staring at the bottom and wishing it had something stronger in it. Suddenly, it disappeared from her grasp. O’Hanlon set the glass down on the desk with a clunk and resumed his spot on the corner. “Are you asking to have your career cut short because you can’t follow a few direct orders?”
“I never asked to be the one to shoot Dusty. Damn it, O’Hanlon, he killed his wife. What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him kill the kids, too?” She pointed at the door. “None of these backwoods rednecks gives a damn about that li’l piece of information.”
“And why do you let it bother you that they don’t?”
She staggered at his question. Why did she care? She didn’t. Deflect.
“It makes my job easier if they aren’t hanging around like vultures, waiting for me to give them a reason to tear into my flesh.”
The penetrating stare he gave her warned he wasn’t buying her line.
“How long have you lived here, O’Hanlon?”
He crossed his arms over his thick chest, straining the sleeves of his brown T-shirt. Nic’s mouth went dry at the sight. She ground her molars together to squelch the desire burning a path through her body.
“Long enough to know that these people are good folks and they haven’t dealt with the kinds of things you have. When they want answers, they’re used to getting it straight. What happened yesterday with Dusty bothers them.”
“So, they take it
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