“I saw the cars and thought Wylie was here,” Amka was saying to Frankie. “I wanted to give him my resignation…you know, quietly. Can you take it and give it to the boss?”

“Sure,” Frankie said. “But why are you quitting? You said you really liked being a server and that the roadhouse was more fun to work at than fast food places.”

“I did. It is.”

At the unhappiness in her voice, Bull moved toward the door. Whatever was wrong, he’d fix it.

“Hmm.” Frankie said slowly, “You live with a longtime friend, your family is up in Barrow, no boyfriend. That makes me think the problem is here at work?”

Oh, hell. Bull stopped before reaching the open door.

Amka burst into tears. “He—he’s always making jokes that creep me out, and he won’t stop touching me, even though I asked him not to.”

For fuck’s sake. “He” was obviously someone here at the roadhouse. Who the hell was harassing the girl? Anger rose in Bull fast enough it felt as if his blood had turned to lava. But if he stepped outside, he’d only scare the youngster worse.

“Ah, I can see how that’d make you want to quit.” Frankie’s words were calm, full of empathy. “You know, if the stronzo is treating you that way, he’s probably harassing the other women, too. Tell me his name so I can protect them.”

Bull almost smiled. Sneaky New Yorker. For herself, Amka might not have given up the name, but to help the others? How could she not?

“It’s Harvey.” Amka said in a rush, “He’s not grabbing my boobs or anything, but he kind of slides his hand on my arm, or pats my butt, or puts his arm around my waist. I can’t get near him without him doing something like that.”

“Men.” Frankie’s mutter was loud enough that Bull heard.

He winced. Too many of his gender were assholes.

He wouldn’t have thought Harvey’d be one. Fuck, he hated firing people.

“Listen, I know giving up this job will put you back financially,” Frankie said. “Why don’t you let me talk with the boss—and maybe with Harvey? Sometimes guys don’t understand how offensive their behavior is, and I have a method I’ve used before to get through to them. Give me—and him—another week, and if he doesn’t improve, I think Bull will show him the door. Can you give me—us—a chance to see if that’ll work?”

“I…I don’t want to leave, not really.” Amka’s sniffles broke Bull’s heart.

Damn him that this had happened in his place. He wanted to pound Harvey to paste, but he knew the guy. He wasn’t a bad guy. Did the idiot not realize what the hell he was doing? For fuck’s sake, was he really that dense?