* * * *
“Is there something I can do to help?” Russ asked Jules. He felt at loose ends but didn’t want to sit at the bar, taking away a seat a customer could use. He also didn’t want to go back to his room where he’d be alone and probably start worrying, more than he already was, about those men and what he knew they’d done—and the fact they were probably still out there looking for him.
“Sure. Give Gale a hand with the set-up, since Marcus is busy right now.”
Russ was more than willing to do that, although he had no clue what set-up meant. He found out, and soon he was slicing fruit for drinks and filling bowls with peanuts.
When he finished, it was almost time to open, according to Gale. “Might be a good idea if you go back upstairs, in case.”
“Nope, not happening. I’ll…pick up empt
