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Danny emerged with a clean face, wearing clean shorts and a T-shirt. She’d slicked her damp hair back from her forehead, looking so young and beautiful it almost hurt Jacques to look at her and not pull her into his arms.
“What?” she said, frowning. “Did I miss a spot?”
He shook his head. “I have a confession.”
She smiled, her brow wrinkling. “Sounds serious.”
“Seeing how close you came to being shot,” he shoved a hand through his hair, “scared the shit out of me.”
She stepped closer. “It scared me, too.”
“I shouldn’t have taken you there. I won’t take you out again. It’s too dangerous.”
“We had a plan and adjusted accordingly.” She laid her hands on his chest. “Everything turned out all right...except for Sarley. Hopefully, he’ll recover.”
“Thanks to you.” Jacques raised his hand and, hesitantly, placed it around her waist. “You’re right about getting close. Our guy is escalating and, as you put it, we need to adjust accordingly.”
“How?”
“No more work shifts at the Crawdad Hole,” he said. “You’re too exposed there. Anyone could blend with the crowd and attack you before we could get to you.”
Her brow furrowed. “Rene’s already shorthanded.”
“He’d find someone else rather than have you come to harm.”
She drew in a breath and let it out. “I’ll agree as long as he can find someone to take my shift.”
Jacques handed her his cell phone. “Call him now.”
A crease formed across her brow as she entered the phone number for the Crawdad Hole and waited for Rene to answer.
“Crawdad Hole,” Rene answered. “What can I do for you?”
“Rene, it’s me, Danny.”
“Holy shit, Danny,” Rene said. “I heard you almost got shot. Are you all right?”
Danny shook her head. “Good news travels fast, doesn’t it?”
“Terrible news, if you ask me,” Rene said. “You’re not coming in anytime soon, are you? I mean, if someone’s gunning for you, you need to stay out of range. And if you don’t like the idea of staying away from here for your own sake, think of my customers. If a gunman came in to get you and started firing indiscriminately, think of the collateral damage.”
“That’s harsh,” she said.
“If you’re worried about me handling the workload, don’t. If it makes it easier to walk away, let me help.” He paused, then said, “You’re fired.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said. “You’re fired. Talk to me when all this shooting nonsense is resolved.”
“And I thought you liked me,” Danny said.
“I do,” he said, his voice softening. “I want you back in one piece. Now, I have customers. And, Danny, stay safe.”
He didn’t wait for her to say goodbye. The call ended, leaving Danny staring at the cell phone.
“He fired me.”
“Good,” Jacques said. “That way you won’t feel obligated to go to work. Next, we need to talk about interviewing suspects.”
