Page 46 of Rags's Awakening
Startled, Casey jumped as Maddie slid the plate toward her.
“And medium burger, American cheese, bacon, and fries,” the waitress said, setting Devin’s plate down. “Can I get you anything else?”
“We’re good,” Devin said, reaching for the ketchup.
“She scared the crap out of me.” Casey giggled.
“You’re scaring the crap out of yourself. I bet Curtis loved that you were reading that book.”
“He did seem pleased.” Remembering her experience at the shop sent a prick of discomfort along her neck. “Have you ever heard about those murders back in 1903?”
Devin shook his head as he covered his fries in black pepper.
“It’s creepy, don’t you think?”
“I guess. Did they ever catch the killer?” He took a large bite of the burger.
“No. That’s what makes it even creepier. But investigative tools were almost non-existent back then.”
“Or the person was clever.” He took another bite. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Oh, yeah.” She laughed. “I got caught up in the mystery of it all.”
“I think Halloween and all the ghost stories around the town have your imagination in overdrive.”
“And the very real murders that are happening right now,” she countered.
“Hey, handsome. Your booth’s waiting. You solo tonight?” Maddie said.
Devin glanced over.
“Throttle, Puck, Chas, and Rock are on their way,” a familiar male voice answered.
Casey froze mid-bite.That voice.
“Excellent. I’ll get you all set up.”
Casey put her fork down and casually looked over, pretending to read the dessert board when dark eyes crashed into hazel ones.
“Hey,” she said, her voice weaker than she liked.
Rags gave a curt chin lift—cool, distant—then walked down the aisle, the tension in his shoulders saying plenty.
Devin followed her gaze. “Is he a friend of yours?”
She swallowed. “Yeah… kind of.”
Devin crumpled his napkin, tossed it on the empty plate, and leaned back. “He doesn’t seem like the theatre type.”
“He’s not,” she said.
Devin looked over his shoulder then back at her. “He looks like one of those Insurgents motorcycle club guys.”
Before she could answer, four well-built men in leather, T-shirts, chains, and biker boots walked down the aisle. One of them paused, gave her a smirk, then followed the others to the back booth where Rags sat.
That guy acted like he knew me. Maybe he was at Blue’s Belly that night.A thread of embarrassment wove through her as she remembered how she and Rags had been kissing like no one else was in the bar.
“Do you know that guy, too?” Devin asked, glancing back again.
