“Drifter. Needed work, I gave him a couple jobs. Said he might be leaving town tomorrow.”
“Pity.” Before she could say anything else, a few customers came into the diner. Bertha finished her water and got up to take care of business.
I sat where I was, finishing my food and keeping an eye out for Murphy’s return. When he did, he had a small bag in one hand, which he stuck into his jacket pocket. Even with the scars on his face and the forbidding expression, Murphy was a beautiful man.
Almost as if he knew I’d been watching him, Murphy lifted his eyes from what he was doing and stared straight at me where I sat by the window. He nodded once before mounting his bike. Before he could start it up and leave, however, he turned his head sharply to the left. Someone approached him. It was Leonard.