Page 18 of The Sinner’s Touch (Manwhore #2)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The place was quiet, a slow, grinding melody playing so low it was hard to make out the words.

It wasn’t a song he recognized, but he found it enjoyable.

The interior of the bar was just as soothing.

The smell of the deep mahogany wood swirled around him.

The people who worked here cared enough about the place to even baby the woodwork.

Clean and welcoming. That was his first impression of O’Grady’s.

He was pleasantly surprised, to be honest. Most bars were smoky and dirty. At least the ones he frequented.

He wandered over to the L-shaped bar and took a seat, his eyes drawn to the well-lit back bar.

It highlighted all the best liquors the establishment served.

Not that he was here for a drink. He needed to do some recon and test out his new look.

Thanks to some bleach and a pair of scissors, he sported short blond hair and eyebrows.

So pale a blond, his hair looked almost platinum or silver.

The contacts changed his eyes from blue to brown.

But it was the fresh cuts that truly changed his appearance.

“Hello, handsome.”

The bartender who set a small napkin down in front of him was neither of the two women from the night before.

This one was tall, her light caramel skin making her baby blues seem all the brighter.

Pretty. Had he not already decided on the redhead, this one would have suited him beautifully.

She still might if his angel proved to be as elusive as he expected.

He grinned lazily at her, but the effect was ruined when he grimaced, the pain in his wounds stinging.

“You look like you ended up on the wrong side of knife fight.” The cute bartender winked at him, not trying to conceal her curiosity in the least.

“More like the wrong side of a knitting needle.” He reached up and felt the long, jagged gash that ran from his eye down.

“My grandmother has Alzheimer’s and didn’t recognize me.

She was afraid, thinking a stranger had broken in on her, and I ended up taking a few hits so I wouldn’t hurt her while we got her calmed down. ”

“You poor thing.” The bartender clucked, all sympathetic. “What’ll you have? It’s on the house.”

“Scotch, please. I’m surprised the place is open this early. It’s only ten.”

“The owner loves to steal as much business as he can, so he serves a breakfast menu as well as lunch and dinner. Pops is a character.”

“Pops?”

“He’s old enough to be everybody’s grandfather. We all call him Pops. He takes care of us in his own way too. Great guy.”

“He sounds it. I’m Josh.” He stuck his hand out when she placed his drink in front of him. “And you are?”

“Ellen.” A bright spot of color bloomed on her cheeks as she shook his hand. She bit her lip slightly, and he had to remind himself to be patient. This beauty was off limits unless it took him longer than expected to retrieve his angel.

“What’s to eat around here?” He gave her a half smile, and sure enough, she rewarded him with another one of those intoxicating blushes.

Her skin flushed a bright red, exactly as it would under scalding hot water.

She turned, offering him a gorgeous view of her backside.

Long, beautiful spine, shapely hips, and an ass that begged to be touched.

He blinked. No. Now was not the time to get sidetracked. He was here for a purpose.

The door opened around the same time she handed him the menu. Three officers came in, taking a table close to the bar. They glanced at him then looked away. A small smile flirted with his lips. They hadn’t recognized him.

“What’ll you have, honey?” Ellen smiled her best, flirtiest smile.

“How about you?” He winked at her, and she laughed. Another couple of cops entered, momentarily distracting her. She called back into the kitchens to let the waitress know she had tables.

“Food must be good if you get Boston’s finest in here.” He closed the menu. “I’ll have the apple pancakes with a side of bacon and eggs.”

“We don’t normally get them in here.” She entered his order into the POS. “At least not before last night.”

“Last night?” He did his best to sound casually curious, something he prided himself on. “Someone get into a fight?”

“I wish.” Her soft lips turned down slightly. “I was a little afraid to come in to work today.”

“Why’s that, sweetheart?”

“You know the crazy guy going around killing women?” Her tone became hushed, and she leaned forward, showing off her cleavage. He took full advantage of the view.

“Yes. Awful thing.”

“He was here last night.”

“What?” He widened his eyes, going for a shocked expression. “Here in the bar?”

“Outside. Dumping a body.” She visibly shuddered, her fear palpable. He could almost taste the salty, bitter flavor of it, just as if her skin was slick from sweat after a good round with his favorite tool.

“Damn.” He let out a low whistle. “That had to be terrifying.”

“Especially for Angel. She saw him. I mean up close and personal, saw him.” She pulled out a paper and placed it in front of him.

It was the drawing Angel had provided to the police sketch artist. Seeing it up close, he had to admit it was a very good likeness of him.

“I can’t even imagine what she’s going through, her or Jessie. ”

“Jessie?”

“One of our waitresses. She saw him too, but only a glimpse. When Pops called to ask me if I could cover Jessie’s shift this morning, I almost said no. I mean, what if he comes back looking for one of them?”

He glanced over to the police officers currently laughing. “With these guys around, I think you’ll be safe. I mean, he can’t be stupid enough to come in here with the police.”

She nodded. “That’s what I’m banking on. They said they’ll have a police presence in the area until this is resolved, plainclothes inside and out so as not to disrupt business during the evening hours. Pops’ one request.”

“At least you’re protected from the big bad wolf.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “I hope so, but I wouldn’t put anything past this psycho.”

You have no idea, my lovely, no idea.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to go check on your food.”

He looked back down at his picture. Angel was very good with details.

Excellent memory, but then he expected nothing less of his true masterpiece.

The one he would pose in all her glory in the art gallery beside the university.

The one where his grandfather had had his first paintings shown off.

If only the old man could see him now. He had no doubt he’d be proud.

Ellen was on her way with his food, and he hadn’t had anything but soup yesterday. His stomach grumbled appreciatively at the smells currently assaulting his nose from the steaming plate on its way to him.

Once she’d set that down and a glass of orange juice, he dug in and spent the next hour chatting and flirting with the pretty Ellen. All the while, not one officer who came and went even batted an eye at him.

Things were going to work out better than planned. Yes, indeed.