Dead Woman Crossing J.R. Adler (early reader chapter books txt) 📖

bikers thanks to their leather vests, long hair, and tattoo-covered arms taunted one another as each of them took their shots. A small stack of money sat on the edge of the pool table, and as the game progressed, they became more and more tense and volatile, hurling insults at one another. Two men in their late twenties with dirty jeans and shirts took turns throwing broken darts at a dartboard. For this place being the best Dead Woman Crossing had to offer, they sure didn’t take care of it, Kimberley noticed. Nearly everything was damaged in one way or another, which most likely was caused by the brawls the place was known for.

One of the men at the dartboard smirked when he made eye contact with Kimberley. He sported a full beard and his hair was ash-brown and messy, like he used only his fingers to style it. He was muscular and his jeans were torn not for style, but from hard work on a farm Kimberley assumed. She made sure not to acknowledge him and immediately looked away. She wasn’t in the mood for company. She was just here to observe and get familiar with her new surroundings.

“Haven’t seen you around,” the man said. He had approached her despite Kimberley’s efforts to ignore him.

“Haven’t been around.” She took a sip of her beer. She tried to appear as uninterested as possible, only glancing at him for a second before scanning the room as if everything else was more remarkable than him.

“You’re a feisty one, ain’t ya?” he said with the same smirk he had delivered from across the room.

Kimberley knew what “feisty” meant. It was what a man called a woman when she was unwilling to do what she was told and used her voice for something other than, “Yes, of course.” Kimberley nodded and took another drink of her beer.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Chief Deputy King,” she said.

“Very formal. Well then. I’m Mr. Colton. But my friends call me Henry.”

“Mr. Colton it is,” Kimberley retorted.

“Ouch.” Henry placed his hand against his chest dramatically as if she had actually hurt him. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“I already have one thanks to Scooter over there,” she said, lifting her pint glass and nodding toward the bartender.

He looked over at Ryan and then exchanged nods. “I’ll leave you to it then, Chief Deputy King. But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he said with a wink as he walked away, rejoining his friend at the dartboard.

Kimberley watched the two men chat, look over at her, waggle their eyebrows, high five, and return to playing their game. She was glad she was out of earshot because she was sure whatever they were saying wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

That’s enough of The Trophy Room for me, Kimberley thought to herself as she turned her seat back around toward the bar and drained the rest of her beer. She came, she saw, she cringed. But she was ready to get back home to Jessica in time for her bedtime. Kimberley stood from her bar stool and pulled the cash from her back pocket. She tossed a dollar on the bar top and when she looked up to see if Ryan was watching, she noticed David’s son, Wyatt, having a furtive conversation with him at the other end of the bar. How had she not noticed him come in? Why hadn’t he come over and said hi?

“Hey, Wyatt,” Kimberley called out as she walked around the bar toward him.

Wyatt glanced over at her without any acknowledgment of her presence. For a second, Kimberley felt like she was back in New York City. Wyatt turned toward Ryan, lowering his voice to finish his conversation.

“Hey, I was heading back home. Do you want a ride?” Kimberley asked as she stood beside him, glancing at him then at Ryan and back at him.

“No,” Wyatt said abruptly, tightening his jaw.

“Okay then.”

Wyatt hadn’t been welcoming in the slightest, but she didn’t know him well enough to know why he was so cold. His whispered conversation with sleazy Ryan didn’t sit well with her, but she pushed the thought aside before she went down a rabbit hole of what it was they could be talking about.

“See ya at home then,” Kimberley added as she took a step back and turned toward the door.

Just before she exited, she looked back at Wyatt and Ryan. They had resumed their conversation, ignoring the rest of the world around them, drowning out the chimes of the slot machines, crashing of pool balls, and the honky-tonk from the jukebox. They were speaking with purpose.

8

Kimberley pulled Jessica’s highchair a little closer to her after sitting down at the dining-room table. David took the seat beside her like the night before, cracking open a bottle of Bud Light against the table and taking a swig of it. He was dressed in dirty overalls, but his face and hair were clean, like he had made an effort to freshen up before dinner. Jessica wiggled and giggled in her chair, slapping her hands against the tray—her way of demanding food.

“Just a second, sweetheart. The food’s coming,” Kimberley said as she pushed some of her daughter’s locks out of her face.

“Hungee,” Jessica squealed.

“How was your day?” David asked.

“It was good, actually. Emily and the boys came with us over to Happy Trails Daycare and then I went to meet Sam at the station.”

“Glad you and Emily are getting along. How were the boys?”

“Great. Exactly as you described… a handful.”

David smiled. “They’re good kids though. And my granddaughter? How’d she like Happy Trails?”

Kimberley hesitated for a moment, surprised that he had called Jessica his granddaughter again. She thought when he said it at the airport, he was just being nice. But maybe he really did care about her and Jessica. Maybe he did see himself as her grandfather. A small smile crept on her face, considering Jessica having a grandma and a grandpa. Even if her