Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

“It’s time for you to leave.” She straightened and pointed to the door.

Duke walked up behind her. “We got a problem?”

Betty shook her head. “Not at all. These two idiots were just leaving.”

Duke Everett was a fighter back in his day and even though he was on the wrong end of fifty, the man was not to be messed with. At six foot four, with shoulders as wide as the door and a large, skull and crossbones tattooed onto his left arm, he was an imposing figure.

“But,” long-hair guy sputtered. “We’re not done with our wings and beer.”

“No problem,” Betty said. She grabbed a takeout container from underneath the counter and dumped their wings inside. “Here you go.” She shoved it at him and smiled.

“Oh, wait.” She grabbed the jug of beer, paused and looked at the baldheaded guy. “I said no to the camera, remember?” His eyes narrowed and his lip curled. He took one shot and then let go of his camera so that it swung from his shoulder.

Betty stepped onto the stool to her right and before the men could react, dumped the entire jug over his shiny, bald, head.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he yelled, stepping back and nearly falling on his ass as his feet slid across the wet floor.

Betty glared at them. “I’d remember that before you think of stopping in here again.”

Duke crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the two men. “Is there a reason you guys are still here?”

Jason Danvers and Pete Tortolini were sitting at a table a few feet from them and they stood up as well, arms folded, eyes trained on the strangers.

The two men realized it was in their best interest to get the hell out of New Waterford. They shoved their way past everyone and the door slammed shut behind them.

Duke grabbed the mop. “I gotta hand it to you, Barker. It’s never dull when you’re around.”

“It’s just going to get worse.”

Duke nodded. “I suppose it will. But you’re tough, kid.”

Betty watched as he cleaned up the mess she’d made, aware that even though Pete and Jason had sat back down, they were still glancing her way. She felt fragile, exposed and more than a little raw.

It wasn’t even dinnertime yet and already it had been a day. She could use someone to talk to but Matt was MIA and Bobbi was busy helping out with Billie’s hockey school.

“How’s Billie today?”

“She’s good. Better, you know…tired but good.”

“Shane was in earlier for takeout and he said the little guy is going to be just fine.”

“Yes, he’s doing real good. He’ll be in the hospital for a few weeks but, he’s perfect.” Betty shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and rolled back on her heels as Duke continued to push the mop back and forth. She supposed that she could cut up some more lemon and limes or see if the guy sitting by himself at the end of the bar wanted another drink….Instead she watched the mop go back and forth.

Duke stopped suddenly and leaned on the mop. “You know it’s not real busy. Why don’t you go home and get some rest. I can cover your shift.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you hanging.” Betty was already reaching for her purse, so the concern in her voice was a bit of an act.

“Yeah,” Duke said. “Get out of here.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Betty scooped up her purse and headed out the door before he changed his mind. She was home less than five minutes later and took an extra minute to poke around the property.

She couldn’t be too careful. For all she knew there was a posse of paparazzi having a party in the Lilac bushes.

Gramps was just settling in front of the television with her dad when she walked through the front door. Betty leaned against the doorframe and watched them as Gramps took his time to settle his son into the chair, and get him some food. Which her father pushed away, mumbling that he wasn’t hungry.

God, her father was getting skinny and his appetite wasn’t nearly what it should be. Both men glanced up.

“Hi,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.