Isabelle released him and reached for the doorknob. “Rhett, this will be your room. Oh, hello, Hank.”
“Isabelle.” A man with gunmetal-gray eyes and light brown hair grinned at her before extending a hand to Rhett. “I’ve seen you around town, but I don’t think we’ve officially met. You must be Rhett Granger.”
Rhett shook his hand. “I am. And you’re Hank.”
“Yep. Hank Abernathy. It’s a pity about the fire.” The man glanced down to the spot where Isabelle’s hands hand been an instant ago. He lifted an eyebrow and his smile turned a bit sly. “Glad to see you’re doing all right.”
“Thank you.”
The stiffness of Rhett’s response didn’t seem to bother Hank. The man tipped an imaginary hat. “See y’all at supper.”
Rhett waited until the door closed behind Hank to meet Isabelle’s gaze. As one, they sagged in relief. He lowered his head and whispered, “I don’t like him.”
“Oh, he’s not so bad,” she whispered back, then grimaced. “At least, I don’t think he is. The liquor smuggling does give me pause.”
Rhett heard the footsteps on the stairs and suddenly realized how close they were standing. He straightened. Isabelle stepped back. They were both a second too late. Although he hadn’t exchanged more than a few passing pleasantries with the man walking toward them, Peppin was small enough for Rhett to know his name was Wesley Brice and he worked at the T&P Railway in some capacity. Isabelle greeted him. He nodded in return, but pinned Rhett with a steely glare before entering a room down the hall.
Tilting her head, Isabelle bit her lip. “I have an idea. How about I go downstairs before we get into any more
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.