find you a date if you wanted to go.”
“Not sure I can make it,” he said without looking at the date on the flyer. Dash Springer didn’t do glam events, even for a good cause. He pulled out a gift certificate and scribbled a dollar amount on it. “But here you go. And I’ll leave the flyers on the desk.”
“Thanks. I know Becca will appreciate it. If you change your mind about going, just let her know.” She gave him a long look. “It might be good for business to make an appearance. Just saying.”
“Yeah, okay.” She was probably right, but the thought of wearing a tie and making small talk with people he barely knew was hardly Dash’s idea of a good time.
“Thanks again, handsome.” She turned to go and almost collided with a broad-shouldered guy who came barrelling through the front door. “Oh, sorry,” she said, but the guy didn’t even slow down.
Dash almost didn’t recognize him in the bulky winter coat and red watch cap. He wished a second later he hadn’t, or that he’d left for the elementary school ten minutes earlier. Because the last person in the world he wanted to run into, the last person he thought would ever return to Whispering Pines, stood on the other side of the desk with a crooked grin.
“Hey, Dash. Long time no see.”
Bile rose in the back of Dash’s throat, and he had to fight to keep his hands at his sides. Not long enough. The last time he’d looked Al Halloran in the eye, the two of them had been on their way to serving time in the Los Angeles county jail.
Chapter Seventeen
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Al didn’t answer. Instead he unzipped his coat like he was planning to stay.
Dash tried again. “When did you get back?”
“Last night.” Al pulled off his watch cap. Gray peppered his dark, close-cut hair. He’d served fifteen months to Dash’s eight, and the time had definitely worn him down. Wrinkles cut into the corners beside his eyes, and he needed a shave. Stubble covered his chin and throat.
Dash glanced over his shoulder. Most people in town probably remembered Al. His younger brother had moved away years ago, but his dad, Doc Halloran, had worked as Whispering Pines’s family doctor for decades. Mrs. Halloran had split when the boys were still in grade school.
“What do you want?”
Al grinned, and Dash could see a missing eye tooth. Prison fight? Probably. “Looking for a job. Thought maybe you could help me out.”
Over my dead body. “Why don’t you ask your father?”
“He disowned me years ago.”
“Can you blame him? Stealing prescriptions wasn’t exactly the way to get on his good side.”
Al’s breath hitched, and for a minute Dash thought he might throw a punch. Then he laughed. “Hell, guess you’re right.” He looked over Dash’s shoulder. “I heard you opened a gym. Had no idea it was this fancy.”
“It’s not.”
“Fancier than what I got going on.”
“Getting off the drugs would help.”
The front door opened, and two middle-aged moms walked inside. “Hi, Dash.”
“Hi, Beth, Sherry. Have a good workout.”
“We will.”
Al waited until they’d checked in at the desk and walked toward the locker room before speaking again. “You can get yourself some tail here anytime you want, huh? Good plan.”
Dash cracked his knuckles and didn’t bother with a response. “I gotta get back to work. If there’s nothing else—” The clock on the wall read a quarter past two. So much for visiting Sienna’s class.
“Do people here know?” Al asked.
“About L.A.?” Dash shook his head. “I don’t think so. Like to keep it that way.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice, “I don’t need you running your mouth. Telling people isn’t gonna get you a job, either.” His arms tightened. He had twenty pounds of muscle and three inches on Al. If the guy knew what was good for him, he’d turn around and leave. Leave Springer Fitness, leave Whispering Pines, leave the whole damn country.
Except felons couldn’t cross international boundaries.
Al twisted his hat in his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t blow your secret. You think I want people here knowing what we did?”
Dash’s jaw clenched. Don’t use the word we. The only thing I did was try to get back what was mine.
“Hey, I just stopped in to say hello,” Al said, “and ask if you knew of anyone hiring.”
“I’m sure you can find a construction job when the weather warms up.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Al’s gaze moved past Dash again, taking in