Erielle surprised herself by polishing off the plate, something she hadn’t done in a very long time. But while Daisy was talking to her about taxes and rent and all the responsibility that came with being a landlord, she watched Hattie hand over a bag with a couple of styrofoam boxes to a man who walked in the door. Erielle was pretty sure Phantom Bayou didn’t have a meal delivery service, but maybe Hattie did call-in orders.
The older woman turned and grabbed another bag with more stacked styrofoam boxes.
“Could you drop this off with Mrs. Mulaney for me? I’d hate her to have to get out in this heat.”
Hattie noticed Erielle paying attention, and the older woman quickly averted her gaze, as if that would hide what she was doing.
Whatwas she doing?
“Erielle? Is that all right?” Daisy was asking, and Erielle had to drag her attention back to the matter at hand, though her mind kept toying with yet another mystery in this town.
Seven
The dumpster wasn’t cominguntil midweek, but Erielle didn’t want to wait to begin the cleanup. She started arriving at Rumrunner’s a little before her scheduled shift, parking close to the dumpster, and instead of dumping the whole box, took out handfuls of books at a time and tossed them over the lip so they landed with thunks against the metal.
“Giving the raccoons reading material?” a smooth voice said behind her.
She pivoted, a handful of books raised in her hand, to see Samson smirking at her, arms folded across his chest.
“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?” she demanded.
He lifted a shoulder. “Wasn’t sneaking. You’d’ve heard me if you weren’t making all that racket.” He lifted a book from the box sitting on the hood of her car, inspected it, frowning. “These are pretty nice books.”
“Mildewed,” she said. “The smell is all over the house, and now all over my car.” She wanted to tell him about the attic, but really, did he care?
“And you don’t have garbage pickup at your place?”
“The garbage can is full already. I’m renting a dumpster but it won’t be here for a few days and I needed to get started.”
He put the book back and leaned against the overloaded box, considering her. “You gonna need more help?”
She set her teeth. She’d seen what little difference one person could make, but she didn’t have the money to pay, and barely had the money to cover a few beers in payment. And he was the last person she wanted to owe.
Well, okay, not the last person, but the last person in town.
“It’s going to take me some time,” she admitted.
“And you’re probably going to need more repairs.”
She thought about the leaky roof that was definitely going to need attention before the roof caved in with the next storm. But that was way more work than a few beers’ worth.
“I’ve got it for now,” she said, not wanting to remind him she was broke. Well, like working here wasn’t a clue.
“All right.”
He pushed to his feet, grabbed the box and tossed it over before she could protest that she’d planned to reuse the box.
He turned to her, too close, and propped his hands on his hips, then motioned with his head toward the bar. “Ready to go in?”
“Let me park my car,” she said, and he stepped back with a nod before he turned and went into the bar.
Man, her car still smelled. She’d leave the windows open if she didn’t think every mosquito in Louisiana would take that as an invitation to party in her vehicle. She parked, then stepped out of the car, catching a glimpse of something white across the road, just fleeting. When she turned her attention, it was gone.
“Ghosts on the brain,” she muttered, and headed in to get to work.
She no longer questioned Samson’s presence, though she did wonder why he’d appointed himself her guardian. It couldn’t just be because she’d been Susan’s friend. She had to admit she felt a little better when he was on the premises, like she didn’t have to be so alert. She’d never tell him that, though.
She was beginning to identify some of the regulars, who didn’t accept her so much as realize she was the person between them and their beer, so they’d better be on their best behavior. But as the week wore on, the clientele got a bit rougher.
