Page 1 of Danny Hall Gets a Lawyer (Goose Run #1)

DANNY

“ H ey!”

Harlan Whittaker was a pain in my ass. He was old and cranky, and he shouted at us any chance he got. This morning was no exception.

I hunched my shoulders up around my ears, kept my gaze fixed ahead of me, and quickened my steps, ignoring my neighbor’s shout. I just needed to make it to my truck.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Harlan waved a set of pruning shears wildly in my direction from where he was standing on the property line.

Six in the morning was too early for this shit. I bit back a sigh and turned my head in his direction, pretending I’d only just noticed him. Neither of us was fooled for a minute. “Hey. I’d love to talk, but I’m running late for work.”

“Y’all need to get your yard in order!” Harlan made a sweeping gesture with his shears in the general direction of my front yard.

To be fair, it was a mess. Straggly weeds spilled out of overgrown flower beds and combined with the patchy, overgrown lawn—and the occasional dead spot—to give the place an air of neglect.

The oil stains on the driveway from my old truck added to the whole post-apocalyptic feel.

What could I say? I wasn’t a yard guy, and neither was any of my roommates.

Now Harlan, he was a yard guy. He was forever watering and fertilizing and mowing and pruning, and his front yard looked like it belonged on the cover of Better Homes to get to the town itself you had to take the turnoff just to the west of the gas station.

Most of the cars going past didn’t, and why would they?

Goose Run had a population of only about a thousand people, and if you didn’t live there, there wasn’t much reason to go, so people kept driving despite the huge billboard Bobby had erected that declared Goose Run “A Honking Good Spot.”

Chase said it was blatant false advertising and someone should call the FTC, but Bobby was so proud of his slogan that he’d ordered a thousand matching postcards. We hadn’t sold one yet, and it was no wonder. They were terrible—and not in that “so ugly it’s cute” way. Just in the regular ugly way.

“Hey,” Chase called across the store. “You want a coffee?”

“Hell, no!”

“Okay,” he said. “I’m just goin’ out back to the stockroom.”

Half an hour later, after a flurry of people stopping for snacks and gas, I noticed he was still gone. He was probably taking a nap back there. I’d caught him doing it before, using a carton of chips as a pillow.

I looked up when the doors opened and a dark-haired guy walked in.

Matt .

Matt was the guy I’d given my number to a week or so ago when he’d been passing through. He hadn’t called me, though.

“Hey, stranger,” I said.

“Hey.” He gave me a smile that was half-shy and half-shamefaced.

I guessed he was suddenly remembering he hadn’t called too.

Which was no big thing, really. Wasn’t like I’d had my hopes pinned on him or anything, but I’d still been a little disappointed when I’d gotten nothing but radio silence because I’d thought he was cute the first time he’d come by, and I’d hoped he’d thought the same about me.

“You heading back home?” I asked him as he approached the counter, and he nodded, not quite meeting my gaze. “How was your trip?”

“It was…” He snorted. “It was whatever.” Clearly, some shit had gone down that he didn’t want to talk about. He shuffled his feet for a moment, and then his expression brightened. “Saw the Grand Canyon, though, so that was awesome.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was incredible. It?—”

The doors opened again, and his blond friend came inside, grabbed some drinks, and joined him at the counter. “Hey,” the friend said. “Want anything else while we’re here?”

Matt smiled at him. “Hey. I was telling Danny about the Grand Canyon.”

“Oh yeah, it was awesome,” the blond guy said. He set the drinks on the counter and draped his arm over Matt’s shoulders. Matt leaned into the touch.