Page 63 of Bone’s Choice

Then I thought about everything sitting on my plate.

Owen Mercer. Northline. The Milwaukee dock.

Friday was still two days away. “I’ll decide Friday.”

Taco nodded. “That’s Prez speak for yes.”

Dealer leaned toward him. “You ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nope.”

I leaned back in my chair and listened to them start another argument.

I looked toward the laptop again.

Owen Mercer’s picture was still on the screen.

Whatever happened Friday didn’t matter yet.

Right now, I had a dead man, a security company, and a transfer yard that had suddenly become a hell of a lot more interesting.

Chapter Eleven

Hazel

Four nights at Bing’s had taught me exactly three things.

CL made a damn good margarita.

Crystal could carry nine beers at once without using a tray, which I considered some kind of witchcraft.

And Kori had absolutely no filter. None.

“What?” Kori asked.

I shook my head as I punched an order into the computer. “Nothing.”

“You’re looking at me.”

“Because you just told table twelve that if he snapped his fingers at you one more time, you were going to break them.”

“He stopped.” She shrugged.

“He did.”

“So I solved the problem.”

Crystal leaned around me to grab a stack of napkins. “She’s very anti-customer-service oriented.”

“Thank you.” Kori smiled.

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I took it as one.”

I laughed and hit send on my order.

Somehow, in four days, the three of us had fallen into an easy rhythm.