Chapter XV
Damn, it's started. Connor had to talk to Allie...tell her everything...but, he had to talk to Jake Ayers first. He had to know what he was talking about first, before dragging her into it....hell, she was already involved, wasn't she? Her wrist was proof of that, Ethan was proof of that, however he was involved in all of this, and now, someone had tried to break in....damn it. He hit the steering wheel with his fist.
He had wanted to work on getting her trust before filling her in on the sordid details, or at least what he was pretty confident to be the sordid details. And now, he and Allie had discovered that their feelings for each other were mutual...that had hit him like a bolt of lightening, come out of nowhere...and changed everything. After this afternoon in the cave.....Connor saw Allie's radiant face in his mind as he spun around a curve in the road, something that he sure as hell had not counted on when he took this assignment. Against his better judgement, Allie had insisted on staying back at the inn to work on bills while he went into the village. He'd argued with her to come with him....hated the idea of her being there alone. He felt that she was not safe, even with the gun, which seemed to give her a feeling of security. He suddenly realized that he would have to convince her to move in with a friend or family member as soon as possible until everything was over. He was also sure, that she would put up quite a fight....that she would not want to abandon her inn.
It was ten o'clock at night as Connor pulled into a parking spot in the Village of Gerard's Cliff, anxious to see if Jake Ayers would be in the bar. He knew he must appear calm, and try to get as much information from the man as he could, probably in a very short amount of time. He didn't imagine Ayers would just blurt out everything right there on the spot. He might even decide that he wanted to meet somewhere else, some other time...and that just wouldn't cut it...Connor had to know now. He would have to make this fast.
Connor entered the bar from the darkness outside. Max's Bar and Grill had transformed from it's daylight dark smokiness into an even darker cavern with sporadic spots of muted light and even more clouds of cigarette smoke. He found it difficult to get a good view of the patrons, but he noted that there appeared to be a few more customers tonight than there were the last time he was here. He stood, hands on his hips, at the entrance to let his eyes and ears adjust to the dim light, and the blaring rock music.
"Hey." He sat at the bar and motioned to the bartender, a younger man this time. "Is Jake Ayers here tonight? We're old friends," he added for good measure. The bartender nodded distractedly. Connor ordered a Scotch, and as the bartender pushed the glass of whiskey forward, he tilted his head toward the back of the bar, where a row of booths lined the wall.
Taking his drink with him, Connor cautiously made his way through the maze of tables. He slowed down as he approached the last booth. ..and hopefully, Jake Ayers. Connor judged the man to be about sixty, maybe younger. Commercial fishing was a hard way to make a living, and the elements took their toll. The man sat with his arms outstretched on the table, staring at the bottle of beer that he cradled in both hands.
Only the quick, slanted movement of the man's hooded eyes gave any indication that he noticed the tall, dark-haired man standing a couple of feet to his left.
Connor slid into the side of the booth across from the man, took a sip of his drink, then set it down in front of him, rubbing the side of the glass slowly with his thumb. "Jake Ayers?" He inquired in as low a voice as he could manage and still expect to be heard with the incessant loud music. "I'm Connor Garrison." The man nodded almost imperceptibly, never taking his eyes off the bottle.
Not wanting to rush him, Connor studied the man in front of him. Ayers looked like a man in need of a bath, his hair unkempt, with several days of gray-brown stubble on his ruddy, lined face. His eyes were tired-looking, with bags above and below his pale, reddened eyes, which had a glassy tinge to them. His brown and orange plaid flannel shirt was rumpled, with the sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. Connor noticed that the hands that continued to hold the beer bottle were rough, slightly grimy, and had scabbed-over cuts as well as scars from past encounters with ropes, and knives, on board a fishing vessel, he imagined.
Without looking up, Jake Ayers said simply, in a deep, gruff voice. "I've been waiting for you to show up." His hand trembled as he took a swig of his beer.
Remain calm and think this through, Connor admonished himself as he glared at the pitch dark road ahead of him, trying to stay on the narrow, twisting road. What was he going to do when he got back? Act as though nothing has happened? He couldn't have that talk with her now....if she was involved. He couldn't call the authorities or back-up now until he knew for sure. Connor imagined Allie in handcuffs, being led down the front steps of her inn, looking back at him...laughing...that she had deceived him with her gentle ways. No, he would have to wait...at least until he could call the office tomorrow, and tell them this new information, and find out what they were going to do. He would have to act as though nothing were wrong....and Allie couldn't know anything more about him at this point, other than what he had told her. Damn Jake Ayers.
Connor pulled onto the graveled parking area, and shut off the engine. He felt frozen, unable to move or think. He had to get out...now...and walk casually into the inn, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. His mind swirled with memories of their time together....just a few hours ago...in the cave. Would she notice now that he was watching her in a different way...not caring, but suspicious?
He rubbed his forehead, then the back of his neck, realizing that he had been sweating. In turn, the cold night air made the sweat feel like icy stings on his skin. And on top of it all, that headache was coming back. He put his hands on the steering wheel, and stared straight ahead, then closed his eyes. He could do this. He had to do this. He got out of the car, locked the door, then turned and crunched on the gravel toward the front porch.
Connor rapped quickly on the front door. A few moments later, Allie opened it, and smiled at him as he entered and walked past her into the parlor, noticing the roaring fire that usually made the room seem so welcoming...not tonight though.
"Well, that didn't take too long. The time sped by." She seemed relieved. "I had a pile of bills to sort through, and my gun was loaded and ready," she laughed and looked at Connor, then tilted her head, her eyebrows lowered in confusion. "Is everything alright?" He could tell that she was trying to figure him out. He looked past her to the desk.
"Would you like some coffee?" Allie walked closer to him, and looked u
p into his eyes. "I just made some. We could sit by the fire."
"Not tonight, Allie." Connor looked at the stairway leading up to his room. "I think I'm going to call it a night." God, he was doing this all wrong. Why couldn't he come up with some normal conversation?
Allie took a step back, and looked completely confused now. "Alright...um..." she stammered. "I'll see you in the morning then." He saw her lift her jaw and veil her eyes. "Good night, Connor." Allie's tone was cold and distant now. He watched her turn and walk away from him. As she headed to her bedroom, Connor walked slowly up the stairs to his.