“The… police.” My eyebrows rise.
“Look, I’m sorry. He’s a nosy busybody, and he thinks it’s his job to know every frickin’ thing that goes on in this town. You’re workin’ here, so he wants to… check you out. I’m sorry. I tried to get you out of it, but he’s a stubborn ass! If I didn’t agree, he’d probably march on in here and surprise the heck out of you. I just… I don’t know how to protect you from this!”
Her slender hands fly up, then crash back down, slapping the tops of her legs while her forehead wrinkles up in a desperate frown.
I gaze at her for a moment, my heart twisting out of shape.
She wants to protect me.
It’s kind of the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard a girl say before.
“I’ll be out in just a minute.” I turn back to the grill, give the onions a little jiggle, and then place the patties onto the buns.
“Are you sure about that?” Annie dances on her tiptoes beside me.
I nod. “May as well get it over with, right?”
Once the burgers are loaded up with all the goodies and the plates are looking nice, I hand them to Annie and wash my hands.
She stops halfway out of the kitchen and turns back to face me.
“You shouldn’t have to do this.” Her blue eyes are so apologetic.
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “It’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
I’m about to meet a cop, and that is seriously not okay.
I still have no idea how far Marlo’s gone to track me down. For all I know, my picture could be pinned to the wall of every station within three states of Texas.
But not going out there and acting like something is wrong will only look suspicious.
I have to play this cool.
I can do that. How many times in my life have I had to put on a mask in order to get what I need? This is no different.
It’s a matter of survival.
Drying my hands, I check the kitchen is safe for me to leave for a few minutes. Then I adjust the backward cap on my head and force myself to stroll into the diner.
Slow and casual.
It’s all about how you present yourself.
Annie darts toward me as soon as I appear, her nervous look not helping.
“Where is he?”
“Table Eleven.” She tips her head, and I spot him immediately.
Aw, yeah, he’s got country cop written all over him.
My swallow is thick as I approach the table. I put on a friendly smile and extend my hand, the way Grandpa taught me.
“Hello, sir. Annie said you’d like to meet the new chef.”
The man eyes me up as he rises from his chair, giving me a brief smile and shaking my hand. “Police Chief Keyes.”
“Michael Barrett,” I reply.
He’s still trying to figure me out, so I plant my feet and picture Grandpa—how he used to stand, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“So, what brings you to Buckland Springs, then?”
“Well, I was just passing through, and when I heard there was a kitchen emergency yesterday, I offered my help.”
“Just passing through.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How’d you get here?”
My stomach clenches, but I answer without too much delay. I don’t want to be fumbling through a lie.
“I hitched a ride.” I smile. “That’s how I’m moving through the country. It’s a great way to see the world.”
“It’s a pretty dangerous way.”
I shrug. “It has its risks, but I’ve met some amazing people and been presented with opportunities I might not have taken otherwise. Like this one.”
“Yeah, he’s an angel from heaven, all right.” Annie approaches the table, lightly patting my shoulder. “You were exactly what we needed, and we’re so grateful for your help.”
I smile down at her, worried that she’s laying it on too thick. But I can’t exactly say that in front of Hank.
Glancing back at him, I raise my eyebrows, hoping to wrap this up and get back to the safety of the kitchen. Curious eyes from the table to our right and the one next to the window are making me antsy.
“Sounds like you were in the right place at the right time.” Hank’s voice is deep and thick. One of those muddy Southern drawls. I would have been petrified of it as a kid.
Now I bob my head and answer simply. “Yes, sir.”
He clears his throat, nodding once before looking me right in the eye. “You got any ID on you, Michael?”
My mouth goes dry.
Shit!
I introduced myself as Michael Barrett. My ID says Michael Adams. Plus if he does any kind of search on that name, what the hell is he going to find?
“Why would you need to see that?” Annie snaps, her hand landing on her hip as she glares at the policeman.
“I’m just doing my job, Annie.”
“No, your job is to catch bad guys, not interrogate innocent people and make them feel like they’re not welcome here.”
He narrows his eyes at the feisty girl beside me.
“Don’t you look at me like that.” She points at him. “You’re being rude. You have no right to stand there with your little badge, acting like you own this town. Now if he’d done something wrong, sure, go for it. But you don’t just waltz up to perfectly nice people demanding things you shouldn’t.”
Aw, man, look at her go.
She is fierce.
“Annie, hold your tongue. Go wait some tables and mind your business,” Hank snaps. “It’s my job to keep this town safe.”
Her incredulous look almost makes me laugh. Her head jerks back, her blue eyes bulging wide as she drills Hank with a look that would make anyone cower and tells it to him straight. “This diner belongs to my family, so what happens in it is my business. And don’t go talkin’ to me about safety. Like you even know what it means.”
Something in her face shifts, as if the oil that was fueling her has suddenly run dry.
I glance at Hank and he’s looking at the table, his jaw set, his nostrils flaring.
Oh man, she really pissed him off.
I need to smooth this over before—
The diner door swings open and Dean walks in.
Annie flinches beside me, her eyes popping wide.
I subtly touch her back, then look to the policeman, doing what I can to make this all go away.
“My ID is in my bag. If you’d like to see it, I can go and get it for you.”
“Hank!” Dean’s voice booms across the diner.
People are still gawking at the table. I’m sure the ones closest to us heard Annie’s words, and some of them are scowling at her.
I’d love to know what she meant about the whole safety thing.
It definitely shut Hank up.
Dean’s bright smile is forced; I can tell by the tension in his eyes. I’m guessing he doesn’t want the police chief knowing he’s paying his newest employee under the table.
I keep my gaze on Hank, trying to look as innocent as I can.
Annie scuttles away as soon as Dean approaches the table.
“What’s going on here?” His plastic smile falters when he catches my eye, then shines bright again when Hank turns to look at him. “Meeting our new chef, I see.”