Page 61 of Good Girls Beg

"Absolutely not," she said with a laugh. "Those boys would make a mess and I'd be the one cleaning it up. Flour would be spread from one side of the kitchen to the other." She jerked her head to the right then the left.

"That's just one of them. Get all three of them in here and they'd be having a fight with it. Not to mention the eggs."

"I'm sure they're not that bad," I said, not all that certain. If anyone was going to throw eggs, it would be those three. If it wasn't eggs, it would be shade.

"No, they're not that bad," she said. "They're worse." She winked and went back to rolling out the pastry dough.

"Have you ever considered working somewhere else?" I asked. Any number of business in Saltgrave would be happy to have her, attitude and all.

"I threaten to leave at least three times a month, but they pay well," she said. "They're all pains in the ass, but mostly they leave me to do my thing and I leave them to do theirs. You might say we have an understanding. I don't get too deep into their business and they don't get into mine."

Does that include the basement? I wondered.

"I bet you have some interesting dirt on them." Would she be forthcoming with it? If anyone had dirt on those guys, apart from each other, it would be her.

She tipped her head back and chuckled. "I've seen some things that's for sure. You know the previous owner of this house was murdered? No one else would touch the place. Those three, though? They didn't even blink. Saw the place online and bought it then and there. I mean, they went to parties here before. They knew the place, but they didn't care about having a second walk though, or looking upstairs. Hel put in an offer and that was that."

I scratched my earlobe. "Murdered? What happened?" Unease crept up my spine. The place had an air of violence about it but I hadn't realized it was literal.

Shannon put down the rolling pin, peeled the pastry dough off the counter, turned it and started rolling it from the sides. "No one talks about it, but they whisper. It didn't happen here. Rumor is they had money trouble. Got involved in some shady shit they shouldn't. Stuff like that has a history of ending badly."

She didn't seem scared or even worried. Of course, if she didn't feel safe here she wouldn't stick around. Would she? I mean, sure, they paid well but did they pay well enough for her to risk herself?

"It wasn't one of them that killed the previous owner, was it?" I asked. It shouldn't have been this easy to imagine them doing it. Should it?

"Not that I know of." Shannon shrugged. She leaned over the counter and rolled with practiced strokes.

"Why do I get the impression you wouldn't be surprised if they did?" I asked. Was this my cue to pack my things and get the hell out of here?

"If any of them murdered someone, it's their business," she said. "I won't be poking my nose into it." She glanced at me sideways and gave me a brief nod, her message clear.

In spite of that, I asked, "Is this where you tell me I shouldn't poke my nose into it either?"

"Chances are, there's nothing to poke your nose into," she said.

That wasn't a no.

"They aren't secretly mafia, are they?" I asked.

"I know some mafia folk, these boys aren't it," she said. She seemed certain. So much so I almost missed what she said.

"Wait, you know mafia people?" I squinted at her, trying to figure out if I should be running away from her instead. She seemed to know her way around a rolling pin. Would she use it as a weapon?

"Between you and me, I was raised in that lifestyle," she said easily. "My family has ties to the Irish mafia that go back a long way. I also know some of the Italians. They aren't the worst people I ever met." She made it sound like they were people she ran into in the bookshop, perusing the romance novel section. Which was extensive if you frequented the store in town. Delilah, the owner of Broken Spines, was a big fan of the genre. Indie authors in particular.

"Who are the worst people you ever met then?" Who could be worse than organized criminals?

Okay, disorganized criminals, but still.

"Politicians," she said without hesitation. "Them and the people who circulate around them. Bunch of predators if you ask me. I wouldn't trust a single one of them."

"No, I guess I wouldn't either," I said. No doubt there were some good ones out there, but the bad ones were more prevalent. More powerful.

"I knew you were smart." She pointed the rolling pin at me. "I better get this in the pie dish and back in the fridge. The boys love a good chicken pot pie for dinner."

"So do I," I said. "I'm sure yours will be delicious." One of the best things about living here was the food. There was no way I could pay Shannon enough to come with me when I moved out. I’d have to ask her to teach me a few things, then I could enjoy her food long after I was gone from here. If my cooking was half as good as hers. Right now, there was no competition. She earned every dollar she got.

"Of course it will, and if it isn't, you'll eat it anyway." She flashed me a quick, sly smile, pulled out a baking dish and started to grease it for the pastry.