It was sweet of her to offer, but I would not let her be my babysitter. At least I could compensate Kyra for her help.
“That’s alright, but I appreciate the offer.” I started walking backwards toward the Round Room. “I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll go with you.” She kept pace with me. “Let me help.”
“Absolutely not. Get some sleep and forget I even told you about this. I’m mortified already.”
She grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Why are you embarrassed?” She looked up at me with those pretty brown eyes. “Please let me go with you. It’s dark out, and you’re upset. I want to help.”
We had only known each other a few days and here she was, worrying about me, the guy who always took care of everyone else. My throat tightened up, making it difficult to answer, and I lowered my chin so she wouldn’t see the emotion in my eyes. “I’ll be fine. You’re a guest?—”
“I’m also your friend, right? Go talk to Gigi, and I’ll meet you back at the office,” she said firmly. “I’m going back to my room to grab a sweater.”
Before I could argue, she was jogging away from me. Honestly, the part of me that wasn’t embarrassed was glad I didn’t have to go on this mission alone. Kyra was, as expected, happy to take on some babysitting hours, and Gigi was thrilled about the sleepover. I didn’t bother telling either of them what was happening because I didn’t need gossip spreading around the ranch. With that handled, I hurried back to the office to meet Lauren, and minutes later we were in a pickup truck, bouncing over ruts and stones on the road out of the ranch.
“Where are we going first?” she asked.
“The Mangy Marmot. If he’s not there, he could be at another bar outside of town called Roy’s, although I don’t know how he’d hear about that place. It’s all locals, and it’s pretty rough.”
“Like a biker bar?” Her earnest expression made me laugh.
“But less cool. A lot of guys with missing teeth and mullets.” Her eyes grew round, like one of those anime characters, and despite my dire employee situation, I laughed. “Rural Wyoming is real sexy.”
“Hmmm, some parts of it are sexy,” she whispered, a little smile dancing on her lips.
Damn. What a waste of an evening. If Chef wasn’t already dead, I might just kill him.
* * *
“What’s our plan?”Lauren yelled into my ear to be heard above the noise that engulfed us the moment we walked into The Mangy Marmot Bar and Grill.On the weekends, everyone in a hundred-mile radius came there looking to blow off steam, get lucky, or both. I put a protective arm around Lauren’s shoulder as a burly guy shoved past us on his way out the door.
“Let’s head to the bar and ask my friend Ella if she’s seen him.”
She nodded, and I led us through the crowd to the long bar that ran along the one side of the room. Ella was pulling caps off bottles and taking orders at the same time. As we approached, she set five shot glasses up in front of her, deftly poured whiskey in them, then slid the shots down the counter to the people waiting for them. Not a drop of drink got spilled.
“Am I seeing things?” With a bit of dramatic flair, she rubbed her eyes and blinked at me. “Is that Matthew Hart at my bar? It’s a miracle!”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Hey, Ella.” Then I leaned in so she could hear me over the din. “I’m looking for an employee. Fifty-seven, blonde curly hair, just shy of five foot ten. Seen him tonight?”
“No,” she said, “but Andy might have served him.”
I glanced over at the other bartender on duty. He was as busy as she was. “Alright, thanks. We’ll ask him.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “I haven’t met your friend yet. Are you hiding her?”
Lauren stood on her tiptoes and peered over my shoulder. “Hello!”
“This is Lauren Wagonblast,” I said. “She’s a ranch guest.”
“Hey, there.” Ella smiled politely at Lauren, then smirked at me. “Nice to meet you.”
It was time to move on before Ella said something embarrassing about me to Lauren. There was a reason she and my brother Sam were best friends.
“If you see me carrying a guy out of here in a fireman’s hold,” I said, “just look the other way.”
“That’s just a typical night at The Marmot.” Ella lifted her hand to wave as we left the bar area and dove into the rowdy crowd.
At first, we didn’t see any sign of Chef Damon. He wasn’t at the tables near the windows or in the center of the room on the Marmot’s makeshift dance floor. Just as I was going to suggest we question Andy, a familiar arrogant voice rang out.
