The Game’s Afoot

Kyra stared at Wainwright. He was standing just inside the front door, gazing around the pub, and rubbing his hands together in a weirdly gleeful way. She totally did not trust him and vowed to herself that she was going to keep an eye on him and make certain he didn’t sneak anything past her. Several of her regular customers had stopped by the bar to tell her that Miller Wainwright was not to be trusted at all.

Kyra wondered how he stayed in business when so many people clearly didn’t like and didn’t trust him. The man was in commercial real estate and that required a certain amount of trust. She shook her head.

Wainwright made his way over to the bar, still staring around the main room of the pub.

“Well, good evening, Ms. Williamson. And how are you doing tonight?” he said in oily tones.

“I’m fine, Wainwright. What do you want?” Kyra tried and failed to keep her tone civil.

“Oh, dear. Such rudeness from someone so young,” Wainwright sighed dramatically.

“Wainwright, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of me. You’re in my pub. What do you want?” Kyra growled.

“I was just coming to see how things were faring with you in your new business venture,” Wainwright said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “That’s all. No need to get salty with me.”

“Things are going fine, and you’re not welcome here. Good evening,” Kyra said, tilting her head toward the door.

As she did so, the door opened and Griff Lambert walked in. His eyes landed on Wainwright lounging at the bar and he immediately strode over.

“Hi, Kyra. How’re you?” Griff said, casually leaning on the bar next to Wainwright, and directing a smile at Kyra.

“Hi, Griff. I was fine. That changed a couple of minutes ago. Got a customer causing problems and he won’t leave,” Kyra replied.

“Really?” Griff eyed Wainwright. “He won’t leave. Do you think an escort out would get the message across?” Griff’s voice was flat.

Wainwright went a bit pale. “You two are a piece of work. This is a place of business and I came to do business.” He adopted a haughty tone.

“No, you didn’t,” Kyra corrected. “You said you came to see how things were going. You saw. Now you can leave.”

“Fine,” Wainwright huffed. He stomped toward the door, Griff on his heels.

Kyra saw Griff stand in the door for a couple of minutes after Wainwright left. He came back to the bar and Kyra leaned over to give him a kiss.

“Thanks for being my knight in shining armor,” she murmured.

“Anything for my lady,” Griff answered, grinning. “He sped off in a spray of gravel. Any idea why he was really here?”

“No, but it can’t be coincidence. He’s up to something. I mean, he came in and looked around like he’d just won the lottery or something. Several of my regular customers came by the bar to point him out and let me know he was here,” Kyra frowned.

Xander came out from the brewery side of the pub. “Hey, Griff,” he said, shaking hands with Griff. “What’s going on, sis? You look a little stressed.”

“That scuzzball, Miller Wainwright, was just here. Griff ‘escorted’ him out just a minute ago,” Kyra told him.

“What’d he want?” Xander scowled.

“Not sure, but if I had to bet, I’d say it has something to do with that big property developer coming to town. Everybody on the ocean side of Escondido Drive got invited to a ‘town hall meeting’ tomorrow night,” Kyra made air quotes when she answered.

“Think they’re trying to buy up beach property?” Griff asked.

“Yep. That’s exactly what I think,” Kyra said. “And that’s why I’m going to the meeting. I want to see who’s behind this and what Wainwright’s connection is, because I’m sure there’s a connection.”

“I’ll go with you,” Xander said. “And, I’ll call in a favor and get the financials on the development company as well.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” Kyra said with an evil grin. Before he’d decided to get into brewing full-time, Xander had been the VP of finance for a software company. He was a whiz at corporate finances.

Griff glanced between the siblings. “Oh, this promises to be interesting. I’m in,” he said.


Hard to believe we’re less than ten weeks from the end of the year! My prompt challenge for Week 43 at More Odds Than Ends came from Padre: He couldn’t sneak anything past her. My challenge went to Fiona Grey: The little rabbit was crouched on her doorstep. Head on over to see what everybody came up with!

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