Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,73
boots. And four hundred dollars paled in comparison to the checks that used to cross her desk when she worked at McKinney Steel. That kind of money was staggering, which made it even more surreal that she was nearly losing her mind now over four hundred bucks.
“Red!”
She jumped and turned around. Layla walked toward her.
“Table ten needs a check. What are you doing back here?”
“Nothing. Have you seen Theo?”
“He’s right there.” Layla nodded, and Tabitha turned to see Theo walking through the kitchen and reading his cell phone.
Relief flooded her. Thank God she hadn’t gone for that key.
Theo glanced up as he stepped into the corridor. His face instantly turned wary.
“I’m busy, Red.”
“I know, me too.”
He brushed past her into his office.
“I need to talk to you again about—”
“Where’s your car?” he demanded.
Her car. Her car. The made-up car she’d told him about earlier.
“Still in the shop,” she said.
“Which shop?” He sank into his desk chair.
“Riley’s Automotive.” It was the first thing that popped into her head. She’d seen the sign somewhere.
Theo dropped his phone on the desk. “Buncha crooks over there. They’re probably bilking you.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. “How much do I owe you?”
She cleared her throat. “Four hundred and ten.”
He sighed, and Tabitha’s pulse picked up. Her palms started to sweat. He watched her eyes closely, as though gauging her truthfulness.
“I can give you two hundred now and the rest next Friday.”
Her stomach clenched. She bit her tongue and nodded. “Thank you.”
He dug a key chain from his pocket and flipped out a bronze key like the one on his desk. He opened the drawer and pulled out the black zipper pouch, and she held her breath as he took out four crisp fifties and handed them over.
“Thanks,” she said again, and this time she meant it. She folded the bills and tucked them into her apron.
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You’re closing tonight, right?”
“Actually, Layla and Rita are.”
He turned to his computer and jiggled the mouse to wake it. “I need you to stay, too. We’re slammed out there. They’re three deep at the bar.”
“Sure. No problem. Thanks again.”
Tabitha headed out the door. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she ducked into the restroom. Her heart was racing, and she was sweating through her clothes. She was a terrible liar. She splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She dabbed her cheeks with a towel and reviewed her plan.
Two hundred was only half of what she’d hoped for, but obviously better than nothing. It would cover her bus fare, at least, for the long trip ahead of her.
Tabitha pulled out the bills and tucked them into the slim wallet she kept in the front pocket of her jeans, where it was safe from pickpockets. Then she opened the door and did a quick check of the hallway before walking straight out the back door.
The alley behind the pub reeked of garbage. The air was heavy and muggy, but it felt good to be outside, and a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders as she walked toward the street. A bluesy guitar riff drifted from the bar around the corner, and pedestrians streamed back and forth. People were out tonight.
I need you to stay, too.
Theo had known something was up. He probably suspected she was about to ditch her job. But he’d done her a favor anyway and look how she’d repaid him. She used to be loyal.
Guilt needled at her, but she pushed it out of her mind. She couldn’t think about it now. Blind loyalty was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place. Blind loyalty—loyalty at all—could easily get her killed.
She stopped by a dumpster at the end of the alley and pulled the three leather folios from her apron. She checked each one, making sure she hadn’t missed any cash, but she hadn’t. She untied her apron and wrapped everything into a ball and tossed it in the dumpster.
Never look back. It had been her mantra for months now, and she needed to get the words locked in her head again.
She rounded the corner and slipped into the stream of people. A group of guys huddled on the sidewalk laughing and hanging on to each other. Probably a bachelor party. Or maybe some stupid college kids looking to get wasted. She’d been that stupid once, too. Never again.
Tabitha strode down the sidewalk, skimming faces as she went.