Page 105 of Peaks and Promises

We went inside, and Rocco the bartender tipped his chin. The bikers sat around two tables pulled together, and one other customer sat at the far end of the bar. Rock music played in the background and the dim lights seemed to bring the gloom of the cloudy day indoors.

Luke chose a stool at the bar that was about as close to the bikers as we could get without making it obvious. I sat next to him and shifted so I could see behind us from the corner of my eye. I didn’t like putting my back to them.

“What can I get you?” Rocco asked.

Luke ordered an IPA, and I did the same. When Rocco returned with our drinks and slid them across the bar, Luke leaned in closer and lowered his voice.

“Any issues when they came in?” He gave a subtle nod in the direction of the bikers.

“No. Should I expect trouble?”

“Probably not. Just making sure.”

“There something I need to know, Haven?”

“Um… Melanie has a friend with an ex who rides with guys like that. We just want to make sure no one’s going to cause trouble for her. They didn’t ask about anyone, did they? Act like they might be looking for someone?”

“No. Just ordered drinks.”

Luke nodded. “Thanks.”

Rocco tipped his chin and disappeared into the back.

“Thanks,” I said, grateful for his quick cover story. Close enough to the truth without giving anything away.

“I’ve got your back. Rocco’s trustworthy, but the fewer people who know, the better.”

We settled in with our beers, and I kept half an eye on the bikers. Their conversation seemed to center around the weather and local road conditions. Certainly nothing suspicious. But Luke and I talked quietly, with frequent pauses so we could listen and make sure we weren’t missing anything.

“So how’s married life?” Luke asked with a smirk.

I shot him a glare.

“Hey, I’m just playing along. Have you ever been married, though?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“And no secret stash of kids you’re going to surprise us with later?”

Taking a sip of my beer, I rolled my eyes. “No.”

“What about prison? You have a lot of ink. Any prison tats on there?”

“Nope. Never did time.”

One of the biker’s voices caught my attention. “Do you think she could be around here?”

I took a casual drink, keeping one ear angled toward their table.

“Probably not this far north,” another replied.

Luke lifted his eyebrows. I shrugged—couldn’t tell if they were talking about Summer—and kept listening.

“She couldn’t have made it this far,” another added.

“You never know,” the first guy said. “Sounds like she’s run off before.”

“With the nose she has on her, she probably caught a scent and chased it into the woods. Got herself lost.”