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CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Madelyn
Istayed crouched beneath the table until my calves started to ache from holding so still, waiting while the four apparent gangsters hashed out how they were going to take revenge on what I was gathering were the criminals running a rival bar.
Were the Vigil guys even coming? How long would it take them to get here even if they were?
The man who’d walked closer to my table meandered around a bit, making my pulse stutter several times. Then the whole group ambled over to a table at the far side of the room from me. They sat down with their backs to me, mostly facing the front door.
My heart skipped in a different way. Maybe I could get out of this on my own after all. It was only a short distance from my hiding spot to the end of the bar where the cash register sat. If I could creep around behind the bar and make the short dash to the back hall without being spotted…
I eased out from between the chairs inch by inch and crawled around them toward the short end of the bar’s L shape. I had to stop and twist to squeeze past another table, but then I was able to shuffle the last couple of steps to the shelter of the bar counter.
Slumping behind it, a breath rushed out of me. The gangsters were still talking away, their aggressive voices interspersed with harsh chuckles. They weren’t at all suspicious—none of them had any clue I was in the room. Now I just had to make it to the hall.
I was just creeping around the corner of the bar when another man strode into the room from the back, the way I’d originally come. As I jerked back out of view, almost choking on my tongue, I recognized him as the guy who’d been unloading the delivery truck. His headphones were looped around his neck now.
He stopped just outside the hall. “Everything came other than they sent a replacement for the one brand of vodka you wanted—the Belvedere. The replacement stuff looks like similar quality, though.”
One of the men at the table let out a huff. “They’re supposed to call before making any substitutions. Fuckers.”
“Do you want me to load it back in and hassle them about it?”
“Nah, it’s here now. But I’ll make sure they know not to pull that shit again. Hey, is that friend of yours still collecting bets on tonight’s game?”
I gritted my teeth in impatient silence as their conversation dragged on. The guy was blocking my escape route. What was I supposed to do now?
I guessed while I was waiting for him to leave again, I might as well take a closer look at what was stashed under the cash register. Maybe I’d missed something.
I peered at the shelves, shifting aside the few papers I could move without making much noise. Nothing jumped out at me as particularly useful. Some receipts were tucked way at the back, but they looked totally normal—they definitely didn’t have anything to do with my car or Dad’s box.
A tablet was tucked away at the back of the lowest shelf. I slid it out and tried to turn it on, but naturally it asked for a passcode. I wasn’t going to be able to come up with that. Making a face at it, I shoved it back into place.
My gaze lifted toward the cash register and caught on a thin rectangular shape next to it at the edge of the counter. A phone. Someone from the group must have left it there while they were getting drinks. What information might be onthat?
I wavered, wondering if it was worth the risk of trying to grab it. If I snatched it and could get out of here, they wouldn’t realize right away that it’d been stolen. They’d probably just assume it’d been misplaced, considering that as far as they knew, no one else had been in here.
Or was that just wishful thinking?
I bit my lip and was on the verge of reaching for it when a text alert chimed from the device, pealing through the room.
I clamped my mouth shut against a yelp and jerked back down. One of the men muttered a curse, and footsteps thumped toward me. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as he approached. What if he looked over the top of the bar and saw me?
There was nowhere for me to go where I wouldn’t be even more easily seen. I pressed myself against the base of the bar counter as tightly as I could, holding my breath. He had no reason to check behind the bar. As long as I stayed totally still and quiet…
The footsteps stopped. I didn’t even dare look up. My stomach lurched queasily.
And then the man lifted his phone off the counter with a faint rasp and walked away again without any sign of concern.
“George,” he muttered to the others. “Can’t that guy handle anything on his own?”
The woman snorted. “From what I’ve seen, nope, not at all.”
Okay. I’d survived another close call. As my pulse started to even out again, I peeked around the corner of the bar toward the hall—but the guy with the headphones was still standing there, laughing at another comment one of his colleagues had made about this George person. Why wouldn’t he just move?
Staring daggers at him didn’t accomplish anything. Swallowing a sigh, I swiveled around—and realized that the door to the manager’s office, just a few feet away from me, had been left ajar when the group had marched out into the main room.
I’d wanted to take a look in there. Maybe it wasn’t worth the risk of trying to sneak right inside while there were so many employees around, but I could at least check out what I could glimpse from the doorway. It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do at the moment.
