Chapter 2

How sad.

* * * *

It was seven-thirty by the time I got home. The bookstore would open at noon today, so I had plenty of time to shower, make coffee, and wait for the stranger to appear. I had a good sense for people, and though he was distrustful, either by nature or circumstances, the chance of a bath and a free meal meant a lot to someone constantly on the road. He would turn up sooner or later.

When it was almost nine, I heard the rumble of a motorbike parking in front of my home. The property was across the road from the beach. Through my kitchen window, I watched the stranger dismount slowly and remove his head gear. His back to me, the man turned his head from side to side, seemingly taking in the view. It never failed to take away my own breath, and even someone as jaded as he appeared to be might appreciate it.

I went to the front door and opened it. “Come inside when you’re ready,” I called, and watched him jerk around to face me. What on earth had made him so jumpy? I left him there and went back to the kitchen to make us some breakfast.

While scrambled eggs were cooking, I brewed another pot of coffee. A few minutes later, I heard heavy footsteps approaching. “I left my boots by the door,” he said. “Figured you wouldn’t want that much dirt on your clean floor.”

“Appreciate it,” I replied and set a plate on the table next to a steaming cup of coffee. “Bathroom’s down the hall behind you, first door on the right. You can clean up a bit if you’d like to.” He nodded and disappeared.

When he returned, some of the grime from the road had been washed away from his face, and a little water dripped from his beard. He stood there staring at me before I realized he was waiting for me to tell him to sit. “That plate’s yours. Have a seat.”

He murmured a “thank you” and sat at the table. “Name’s Murphy Vickers.”

“Austin Murray,” I replied and served myself some food before joining him. Once I started to eat, he did, too. Someone had taught him manners a long time ago.

We finished our meal in silence. I watched Murphy from time to time as he ate. He didn’t scarf down his food, simply forked measured portions into his mouth and chewed slowly, as if to make the food last longer.

“You interested in that shower?” I asked after drinking some coffee.

“You mentioned work I could do?”

“I did, but I asked about a shower.”

“Do I stink?” he retorted.

“No.”

“So that work you mentioned? Were you just blowing smoke or does it exist?”

I stared at him. Murphy didn’t seem interested in niceties or small talk. Okay, then. “I have jobs at my bookstore and here. The bookstore needs the most attention right now, though. Are you good with tools, afraid of heights or anything?”

Murphy relaxed once he realized I wasn’t jerking him around. “I’ve done many things. I can handle it.”

“Great. The pay’s a hundred bucks if you can get the work I need done by the end of the day. The store opens at noon and closes at six today. I don’t usually leave until around eight, however. I need work done on the roof and to replace a door, fix some shelving in the inventory room, you get the idea.”

His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t expect that much, but I appreciate it. Can I get started now?” He rose and placed his plate and mug in the sink.

“Sure. You can follow my truck.” I took a couple bottles of water out of the refrigerator and handed them to him. “I’ll bring you a sandwich or something later.”

He nodded his thanks and headed outside. I watched him sit on the top step of the deck at the front of the house and put his boots back on. I grabbed my keys and locked the door behind me before heading out, with Murphy close behind.

* * * *

Half an hour later, I’d shown Murphy what I’d like done and unlocked the storage room behind the store with all the necessary tools and supplies he’d need. He’d pulled a well-worn stocking cap over his hair and now wore old, thick gloves instead of the leather ones from earlier.

“Do you have a cell phone?” I asked.

“Prepaid.”

I dug in my wallet and handed him a business card. “My mobile’s on there. Call me if something comes up before I get here at ten-thirty. Or send a text. Don’t expect anything will, but you never know.”

He nodded, removed his leather jacket, and started sorting materials. Murphy wore an old Henley and a thermal shirt with his jeans. He was as big as I’d thought, muscles everywhere. It had been a long time since I’d looked at a man in that way. And I preferred them on the large size, too. But he was bigger than that, and it did something to me. He was damaged goods, though.