Page 43 of Little Girl Vanished

“Wow. You’re open pretty late.” Suspiciously late given the low population in the area.

“We’re a full-service laundromat,” he said with a cheesy grin that looked like it was part of the spiel he’d learned when he was hired. “We try to accommodate all manner of customers with a variety of services.” He handed me a laminated rectangular flier. The corners were curling inward, and it looked dull from use and oily fingers. I was going to need to coat my hands in multiple layers of sanitizer when I left. The services listed on the menu were all pretty standard for a laundry service with the exception of dry cleaning. I could use that to my advantage.

I handed it back to him and leaned closer. “I hear that you have a few services not listed on the card.”

His brow shot up, and he went from looking annoyed to wary. “Nope, that pretty much covers it.”

His body language told me all I needed to know. I sat up straight. “Aren’t you the only laundromat in Jackson Creek? I would think you’d offer dry cleaning.”

His shoulders relaxed. “You have to go to Wolford for that.”

“You really should consider adding it to your services,” I said with a sigh. “You could save your clients the drive.”

“Nobody gets dry cleaning anymore, lady,” the guy spat out. “Why would we do that?”

“To continue providing such excellent customer service?” I asked with forced politeness, letting my voice rise at the end.

A door opened behind Buster, and a big burly man walked out, his face red.

I took an involuntary step back even though there was a counter between us.

“Buster,” he grunted, his voice confirming he was the one who’d admonished the guy before. “Take a break.”

“But—”

“Now.”

Buster scurried through the door, shutting it, while the big guy turned his full attention on me. “You don’t look like the dry cleaning type.”

“Is there a type?”

He ignored my question. “You look like the just crawled out of the gutter after shooting a citizen type.”

Shit. So Mountain Man recognized me. And based on what I’d discovered during my hasty investigation, Mountain Man was none other than Ricky Morris himself.

“We both know you no longer have a badge to hide behind and rumor has it you prefer the bottle to pills.” He stepped up to the counter, bending over to see me through the window. “So what the fuck are you doing here?”

So all my trips to Wolford’s liquor store hadn’t gone unnoticed. Had it become part of the rumor mill gossip, or was Ricky Morris watching me?

I wasn’t about to tell this guy why I was really here, but I could tell him a partially true reason. “Honestly? I heard about the council meeting next week and TJ’s attempt to shut you down. I wanted to see the place for myself before deciding whether to agree with him or not.”

“You’re not even a citizen of Jackson Creek,” he grunted. “You have no say one way or the other. So try again. Why. Are. You. Here?” The last four words sounded like they were ground out through his teeth.

I held his intense gaze. “The laundry part is true. I’m scoping out options, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Get out.”

“What?”

He slowly unfolded his arms and pointed to the door with a big beefy finger. “Leave the premises now or I’ll throw you out.”

I had no doubts that he would.

“Good to see where Buster got his great customer service skills,” I said wryly, then took several steps backward before heading to the door. I didn’t like turning my back on this guy, but I couldn’t back up the entire way to the door.

Once I got outside, I got in my car and started it up, immediately locking the door.

My hands shook on the steering wheel, and I told myself it was from my rattled nerves and not my sudden need for a drink.