Chapter 3: Guarded Eyes and Chequered ShirtsChris was halfway through ringing up Mrs. Johnson’s items when the door opened. He looked up to greet whoever was on their way in and almost dropped the bag of apples in his hand. A tall, bulky man was hovering by the door, looking around as if he believed someone would jump out of some hidden corner to scare him.
“Who’s that?”
Chris turned to Mrs. Johnson and tried not to frown at the disapproving tone in her voice. “Someone passing through, maybe?” Chris smiled to cover the sigh slowly easing its way out of his lungs.
“Hopefully, he won’t stay long. I don’t know what’s happening in this town…strange men appearing like moths drawn to a flame. And they’re staying—” Her voice shrank to a whisper. “—with other men.” Her widened eyes made it hard
