Briar
Briar suspected that, if she pushed hard enough, Royce King would take her out to the house tonight, but he had a point. Another eight hours weren’t going to make a difference. Instead, they crossed the highway toward the auto shop.
“Is the gas station and grocery store still open?” she asked.
When she’d lived here, the funky gas station and grocery combo store had been a gathering spot for the townies. A place—other than the Tainted Crown—for folks to meet and catch up on all the gossip.
Royce nodded. “Yep, although Sam Park passed away a few years ago. Now his grandson owns it.” He unlocked the shop and soon enough, Briar had her roller bag and backpack. From this vantage point, she could see The Utopia’s Vacant sign glowing. At least she had a place to sleep for the night.
Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since early that morning.
Royce glanced at her. “Was that your stomach?”
“Maybe.”
Briar was the recipient of a long look.
“What do you think about dropping your bags off and meeting me back over at the Crown? They have killer wings if you like that sort of thing. They also have decent salads if that’s more your style.”
While normally she did eat fairly healthy, Briar was starving and hot wings sounded incredible. She’d have a side salad to appease her inner nutritionist.
“Okay.”
Royce’s eyebrows shot up. Yeah, she’d surprised herself too.
“Great. Okay, see you in a few. I’ll grab us a table.”
Since she’d never been inside the Utopia Motel, had only seen it from the outside, Briar had no frame of reference for the claim on the sign that the rooms had been updated. Mostly, she did her best to block out the overwhelming pink when she left her suitcase in the room and kept her backpack, currently holding her laptop, on her shoulder. The kid at the front desk who’d run Briar’s credit card and handed over her room key couldn’t have been much more than twenty, but he’d been nice enough and didn’t ask her a bunch of questions. Maybe he was used to bedraggled women renting rooms at the last second.
But now she was beyond hungry. Briar pulled the room door shut behind her, wiggled the door handle to make sure it locked, and strode across the parking lot to the road. She had to wait for a semi, a farm truck, and two wet motorcyclists to pass before she could cross. The motorcyclists made her skin crawl. Yes, there were plenty of “good” clubs. In fact, a firefighter friend had joined a club whose membership consisted entirely of first responders.
Good people.
Unfortunately, Briar had experienced the bad kind, firsthand.
When she reached the Tainted Crown, she pulled open the door and was met with a whoosh of warm air and conversation. No one seemed to pay particular attention to her, which was great. The last thing she felt like doing was talking to a bunch of people she didn’t remember—or didn’t want to remember. And the person she wanted to talk to the least would be her mother, but as far as Briar knew Courtney had moved to LaVille, thirty miles away.
“Over here.” Glancing to her right, Briar spotted Royce. He was waving her over to the table he’d secured in a corner. She could sit in the shadows and people-watch while they ate, stay somewhat anonymous. Maybe Royce King wasn’t so bad, after all; he had already proved himself not to be an unhinged murderer.
“What else is good besides the wings?” Briar asked.
“Everything. Rufus does a great job with the menu.”
A waitress stopped by and took their orders. She was obviously curious about Briar but Royce didn’t make introductions. After she walked away, Briar turned to Royce, who gave her an answering shrug.
“I didn’t think you were ready for the full-on Rexville experience yet.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, you’ll get it soon enough. It just won’t be my fault.”
Briar met his gaze and snorted in amusement. The waitress returned with a cider for Briar and an IPA for Royce. She was practically vibrating with curiosity, but Briar merely smiled and thanked her, and she left again, hailed by another table.
“So tomorrow, first thing, we’ll go out to Tor’s,” Royce said. “What else?”
“I called earlier and made an appointment with the funeral home director. He could see me on Friday. I guess I need to figure out about a memorial service.” She took a sip of her cider, it was delicious. “Don’t you have sheriffing to catch up on?”
Royce groaned as he sat back in his seat. “Don’t remind me. Because the answer is yes. I’m pissed that Raine put me up to this, but I also don’t know who else would do it right. This town suffered enough under Garrison and at the moment I’m the only one in town with the experience to clean it up and hopefully make it a job someone else will want to take over.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “And I’m sure there has to be some law preventing me from being the sheriff and acting CEO of King Security.”