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“Just being nosy is all.”
“Well, there ain’t nothing to see here,” he says, dismissing me. But as he approaches, his deep frown changes into a small smile as recognition takes over. “Well, I’ll be damned, if it isn’t Asher King.”
“Hello, Wayne. I might have known you’d be here.” He holds out a hand for me to shake, which I take.
“What you doing out this way?”
“Like I said, being nosy. How long you been working here?” I ask, attempting to make it look like general chat.
“About three months now. It’s good money, and it’s always good to have a town full of fresh meat for me to get my teeth into,” he says with a deep chuckle.
I laugh along with him, although it’s fake, but he doesn’t seem to notice, breaking into some bullshit story about a chick he banged last week.
I humor him for a few more minutes and then try to steer the conversation back to Titan.
“And the company, this Titan Industries, they good to work for?”
He frowns. “You looking for a job, man?”
I chuckle. “Nah, just asking ‘cause I’ve got a friend who might be interested.”
“Well, in that case, you’ll need to speak to the foreman. A guy called Jed. He ain’t here today.”
“I’ll get my friend to stop by then. But they’re good here, right? His last place weren’t exactly above board. They cut corners everywhere they could,” I whisper the last part out the side of my mouth.
“Yeah, what company was this then?” he asks, and I know he’s suspicious about my questions.
“I don’t fucking know. Never remember the name. Some amateur outfit.”
“Yeah, there’s plenty of them around. But Titan certainly ain’t no amateurs, so you tell your friend to come on by. Ask for me and I’ll introduce him to Jed.”
“I will. Thanks, man. Good seeing you.” We shake hands, and he walks back to the truck as I get in my car.
I see him pulling his cell from his pocket, answering it, and watching me as I drive away. Wayne might be a prick but he’s not so stupid as to give me anything I can use. The fact he’s even suspicious of people asking questions is a red flag.
As I turn out of the site, I spot a car parked up but don’t see anyone in it. It kind of seems familiar, but it’s a common make, so I think nothing more of it.
The drive home is fast,probably too fast, but thankfully there are no cops around to witness my racing skills. My thoughts turn to Kennedy and how tonight might go—is probably going to go.
She’s a runner. I let her run from me six years ago because I was deep in the pit of my own grief and didn’t want to hurt her anymore, but there’ll be no more running. She doesn’t get to keep running away from me, from our past.
She came back to Silverbell, so that means she needs to face the past, despite how painful.
Regardless of what, if anything, is between us now, we need to talk. We need to lay to rest what happened the night Nolan died.
I’ve lived with that memory; am still living with it. It’s always there, a constant reminder that I let Nolan down. That I let her down.
Back at home,I call Jackson, but he doesn’t answer, so I decide to go and find Kennedy to try and stave off any drama tonight. I don’t want to upset Maria. As I step outside, a cop car pulls up and out jumps Deputy Peters.
“Mr. King,” he says, using his professional voice as he walks toward me.
“What can I do for you, deputy?” I ask.
“I just need to ask you a few questions about an incident a few nights ago.” At my obvious confusion, he continues, “There was a break in at a property down by the beach where a Miss Aria Thomas is staying, and I understand the two of you spent the evening together.”
“Yeah, something like that,” I say hesitantly.
“Care to explain the events of that night,” he asks, folding his arms over his chest.
