Chapter 12: Jack

I feel like shit for bringing all this down on Ruth's head, for disrupting her life, her business. Putting her friends at risk. She has a quiet word with Tom and the rest of her staff as she notifies them that she's closing the bar. I watch her walk to the jukebox and shut it off. Everyone immediately quiets down and looks at Ruth.

"Hey, folks," she says, smiling apologetically. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to shut down early this evening."

There's a loud, collective groan of disappointment.

"I'm offering everyone one last drink, on the house," she says, which results in a smattering of cheer. "And all your tabs and orders today are comped." That earns her an even stronger response, with a few hoots and hollers thrown in.

Oh, great. Not only am I disrupting her life, but I'm costing her money as well. I walk up beside her. "I'll reimburse you for your losses."

She glances at me, her expression hard to read, and shakes her head. "Don't bother."

Ouch.

After a chaotic run of last drinks, Tom turns off the OPEN sign and holds the front door while the customers file out. Mike monitors the back door to make sure no undesirables sneak in.

Once everyone's out, Tom turns off all the lights as Ruth locks the front door.

"I need to stop at the diner and the grocery store," Ruth says. "We'll need extra supplies at the cabin, and I need to warn my friends."

I want to tell her no, that it's a bad idea. That we need to get back to her place and set up our defenses before it gets dark, but the expression on her face tells me otherwise. "Ruth—"

"If you're worried, you can go back to the cabin without me," she says. "I'll be along shortly."

"I'm staying with you."

She shrugs. "Suit yourself."

We walk around the side of the building to the front sidewalk. The diner is right next door. This close to the dinner rush, the place is packed.

Jenny spots us the moment we walk in and waves. "Have a seat, guys. Anywhere you want."

"Wait here," Ruth says to me. Then she flags down Jenny, and the two of them make their way down the hall that leads to the restrooms.

As Ruth talks, Jenny's dark eyes widen, her gaze flickering over to me where I'm standing at the entrance. Jenny says something to Ruth, and Ruth answers. My ears are definitely burning.

I'm still stationed by the door, scanning the street, when Ruth walks past me and out onto the sidewalk. "What did you say to her?" I ask as I fall in step beside her.

I can tell she's still pissed at me. She heads next door to the grocery store, which is owned by another of her friends. Before she can step inside, I grab her arm. "What did you tell her?"

"The truth." She sounds exasperated. "That you've attracted some dangerous people to Bryce. That she needs to be vigilant, and that if she spots anything suspicious, she needs to call the sheriff's office."

Ruth pulls out of my grasp and walks into Emerson's Grocery Store. I follow her inside.

A woman with long, curly brown hair pulled back in a ponytail is standing behind the sales counter. The woman's face lights up when she spots Ruth.

"Ruth, hi!" she says. "How's it going?" Her curious gaze transfers to me.

"Hi, Maggie," Ruth says.

Her friend is eyeing me curiously. Ruth introduces us. "This is my friend Maggie. Maggie, this is Jack."

Maggie smiles. "It's nice to meet you, officially."

Ruth grabs a shopping cart and heads for the refrigerated cases. I take the cart from her. "I'll push. You grab supplies."

Ruth is definitely preparing for a siege because she buys several of everything—four dozen eggs, four loaves of bread.

When we pass the snack aisle, I grab several bags of potato chips and some pretzels. Ruth watches, but doesn't say anything.

In the beverage aisle, she grabs two cases of Fat Tire and two cases of Coke.

Once the cart is loaded up, we head for the checkout. I grab a handful of candy bars and put them on the counter.

"You're worse than a kid," Ruth says, rolling her eyes.

As Maggie rings up our purchases, she bites her lip. "Are you feeding a small army?" she asks Ruth. "Your total is two-hundred and ten dollars."

Before Ruth can retrieve her wallet from her back pocket, I grab mine and fish out enough cash to pay the bill. "Here, I've got it." I hand Maggie the money.

When we're done, I head out a back door, which opens out into the rear parking lot, close to our vehicles. I push the cart to Ruth's Jeep, and after she opens the back, we load six sacks of groceries into the vehicle, along with the beer and pop.

She closes the back door. "That was nice of you to pay for the groceries. Thanks."

"It's the least I can do, since they're my friends."

"Well, thanks. I appreciate it. I guess I'll see you back at the cabin." She gets in her Jeep and drives away.

I follow her in my car. Mike and Aleksa, who waited for us, take up the rear in their black SUV.

The entire drive to the cabin, Ruth's on the phone with someone. My guess is she's talking to her brother. I sure hope she's not calling the sheriff. He's more than just law enforcement to her—he's a friend. And she might be compelled to give her friend a heads-up. The problem is, we don't need local law enforcement getting caught in the crossfire.

My guys and I can handle this, but if the local small-town cops got involved, they'd be walking blind into a potential blood bath.