Her suspicion was met with Errol's own, his calm disinterest suddenly becoming sharper at her question. He straightened up from his studied attempt at a disinterested not-quite-slouch, one hand flattening the book pages-up on the table as a makeshift bookmark and the other resting casually at the edge of the counter. Not out of sight, but close enough to one of his pistols to have it out in a moment.
"Which friend?" he asked, his voice holding an edge.