Page 8 of Covert Chaos

Hattie and Lucy turned to look, and they both grimaced and ducked behind their menus. "No," Hattie said. "We do not have time for this! They're both way too smart, and they'll sniff that body out within seconds. Mother trucker!"

I pulled up a menu and hid behind it, turning it so I could see my friends, but hopefully not be seen by Devlin and Griselda. "We need to find Charles," I said. "Is there a back room to this place?"

Hattie nodded. "They have darts back there. And a pool table."

"Of course they need darts in a place like this." With Griselda and Devlin within sneezing distance of Beckwith, we didn't have much room to maneuver. I rubbed my hand over my forehead, trying to think. "We need to get to Charles."`

"And what? Get a massive, dangerous man to admit he's a murderer?" Lucy looked skeptical. "I know you're talented, Mia, but that seems a little outside your skillset."

"I don't know what to do when we find him, but we'll figure that out." I lowered my menu slightly and inspected the tavern. I could see the door to the back room. It was off to the right of the bar. "Griselda and Devlin are at the bar," I said. "They aren't facing the room, but they would see us in the mirror."

Lucy and Hattie grinned. "You know what that means, right?"

I sighed. "I do."

Six

Two minutes later, Hattie and I were down on our hands and knees, crawling along the sticky, dirty boards of the tavern, using the rows of tables to stay out of Griselda and Devlin's line of sight. Lucy was staying behind at our table to make sure Charles didn't reappear.

As I crawled along the floor between the tables, looking at all the different boots that had chosen the Ugly Man for their social activities, while clutching a purring cat to my chest, I couldn’t help but grin.

This was like my childhood, sneaking through crowds.

It was just plain fun. I looked back at Hattie, and she gave me a thumbs-up, a big grin on her face.

This was why we were friends. Because we were both a little crazy.

I scurried along the floor, checking between pairs of legs to make sure I was heading toward the back room. We were almost there when a boot landed in front of me and didn't move.

Crap.

I looked up to see the tree trunk of a man, Diesel Dalton, standing in front of me. His beefy arms were folded across his chest, and he was staring down at me with a mixture of irritation and fascination.

I waved up at the owner of the Ugly Man and sat back on my heels, still staying low. "Hi, there." I'd had a few situations with Diesel. Not all of them had gone well. I zipped my sweatshirt up a little bit higher just to make sure King Tut stayed hidden.

"Hey, Diesel," Hattie said, crawling up beside me. "What's going on?"

He stared down at us. "Why?"

A man of great eloquence.

"Mia's dating two men at the bar, and she doesn't want to have some testosterone-induced, male-dominance fight to ruin her night, your night, and maybe wreck your bar," Hattie said cheerfully.

I poked my foot into Hattie's calf to protest, but she kicked me back even harder.

Diesel's gaze went to the bar. "Which ones?"

"Officer Hunt and his FBI pal," Hattie said.

Diesel's gaze narrowed. "I bet that gets complicated in a hurry."

"It does, but Mia's resourceful,” Hattie said cheerfully. “We were just going to zip back to the ladies room."

King Tut began to squirm inside my sweatshirt, and I clutched him, trying to keep him quiet. "Where do you get your pies, Diesel?"

His eyes narrowed. "My pies?"

"Oh, yes." Hattie sat back on her heels, both of us acting like it was completely normal to be sitting on a tavern floor talking with the owner about pies.

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