Conor’s curious glance swept over him, the refrigerator, Alvin’s predicament.
“You have to swear not to tell anyone,” said Bliss. She held up her hand in a vow gesture. “We can use your help, but only once you’ve entered the cone of secrecy.”
He echoed her gesture. “What now? That thing looks hella heavy.”
“Granger’s got a plan.” The trust in Bliss’ voice gave him a thrill. “Oh, this is Granger. He’s my head of security.”
Conor gave him a once-over, giving the impression that he’d heard about Granger already. “The famous head of security. I’m Conor Gault.” He offered his hand. “Welcome to Lake Bittersweet.”
“I’ve been here a while. But thanks.” Warily, he shook Conor’s hand. Generally he didn’t get along with the Ivy League type. There were plenty of them at the FBI, not to mention in
