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Connor continued, “I work for Quinn.”
“I don’t think I’ve met a Quinn in town yet,” I said, and he nodded, almost as if he already knew that.
“Well, I just thought I’d introduce myself.” His eyes were steady on me, as if he were trying to read something in my expression.
I forced a smile. “Nice to meet you, Connor. What can I do for you?”
He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I ran a background check on you,” he said. It wasn't as if he then gave me space to react with shock, because he forged ahead. “I know about your ex, Briggs.”
His words hit me like an icy wave. My hand tightened around the cloth I was holding, and now, fear began to build inside me. Was this guy media? Was he going to get his camera out and throw me on social media? “Why would you do that?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.
Connor’s expression softened. “I look out for Quinn, and when someone new moves into town, I like to know who I’m dealing with. And I thought it was fair to be upfront about what I’d done. Don’t worry, I won’t take the information any further. But part of what I do is digging a lot deeper than what the media shows.”
I bristled then. “Get out,” I snapped, and he held up a hand.
“If what I’ve found out about Briggs is right…” He paused, searching my face. “I’m here if you ever need anything.”
“I said, get out!”
Before he could leave—if he was going to leave, instead of hovering there like a dark shadow—the door swung open, and Neil, the sheriff, walked in. “For fuck’s sake, Connor, what are you doing?” he asked, irritation clear in his tone.
Connor turned, the picture of innocence. “Just getting to know the new owner of the diner,” he replied.
It was tension overload as Neil’s eyes narrowed at Connor. It was obvious there was hostility between them.
“This town is not some playground for you to bodyguard your way about,” Neil snapped.
“Did you just repurpose a noun into a verb?”
Neil went quiet, gritting his teeth. “I’m warning you, Connor…”
“I was just?—”
Neil stepped up into Connor’s face. “Stop harassing innocent citizens.”
In return, Connor reached out to brush imaginary lint from Neil’s uniform. “I have a job to do,” he said.
Neil shoved his hand away. “Policing this town isnotyour job.”
As Neil and Connor exchanged the few terse words, I couldn’t help but feel intrigued, but wary. Connor’s offer of help, though unsettling, was not entirely unwelcome, because yes, if Briggs did think to come here, then maybe, someone like Connor in my corner might be good, not that I was sure who Connor was. Quinn’s bodyguard? Whoever Quinn was. He finally left the shop, but not before he thrust a card at me—no name, just a number.
“Any time,” he said, and then, Neil hustled him out and shut the door on him, getting a salute for his trouble as Connor walked away.
“Asshole,” he muttered, then straightened. “Are you okay? Did he mess with you? Threaten you?”
“No.” I blinked at Neil. “He said… never mind… it was okay. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
Neil didn’t seem fazed by any of this. “Sure, any time.”
“Can I get you a coffee?” I thumbed at the machine, although it needed cleaning if it was to be anywhere near my standard. “Muffin.”
“It’s a no on the coffee, but a yes to the muffin.”
I went to the kitchen and parceled up a couple of muffins warm from the test phases and handed them over.
And when he’d left as well, I turned the sign toback later, then pulled the single broken blind, wishing the guys fitting the new ones would come way sooner than next Monday. With lights on inside, I was in a fishbowl, and everyone could see in, which was a good thing considering a) the Connor thing and b) they could see me working and might be intrigued.
Only with that Connor guy bringing up Briggs’s name and the possibility of him visiting Whisper Ridge, I was about done with people staring in.
