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Chapter 7

“That, Rick, is something I have yet to figure out. So far, I’ve come up empty.”

“Like, you can’t walk into wherever he is, pull out your gun, and shoot the bastard.”

Beau shot him an amused look. “Not if I want to be alive, afterward. This isn’t a movie. The good guy doesn’t always win. Not that I ama good guy. I haven’t been since forever.” He turned the water on in the sink and began washing the dishes.

Rick took the lone towel from the rack to dry them, asking as he did, “How old are you, anyway?”

“Almost twice as old as you.”

“Making you, what, thirty-four, thirty-five? You, and don’t take this wrong, but you look older.”

“Stress can do that to a guy,” Beau replied with a rueful smile. “I’m thirty-five.”

“Okay.” Rick put the dishes away before asking, “If I do take you up on your offer, does it mean you expect me to be here twenty-four-seven?”