He frowned. “There aren’t that many houses out there.”
“I have the old Johansen place. Mr. Johansen passed away four years ago, and Mrs. Johansen’s kids convinced her to move to an assisted-living home in Bishop. I bought the cabin from her.”
“Mrs. Johansen was my English teacher senior year. Tough old bird.”
“She was, which is probably why I aced freshman English in college.”
“You aced every class you ever took.”
“That’s not true. At least for college,” she amended.
He sought out her gaze in the darkened cab. “That stash house was farther up the road about a mile from your house. I think they find houses that are closed up for the winter and squat there. I don’t like you living so far from town. You’re too isolated.”
“You said yourself the bad guys were arrested.”
“Yeah, but they were low-level. Lazlo had been there, helping himself to a couple of the youngest girls. He managed to leave right before the women rebelled and the FBI showed up. Apparently the revolt was in part to protect the children. And it’s probable there are more stash houses in the area. With so many isolated cabins around here, the traffickers are using them as a place to stay under the radar and wait for the opportunity to transport the women farther north. There’s a big winter sporting event in Tahoe next week and I heard they’re bringing in more women to meet the increased demand.”
“You’re kidding. It’s like making sure there are enough pastries in the case for Mother’s Day.”
“Economics one-oh-one. Big conference in some city, especially if it’s for a male-dominated field like law enforcement or energy exploration, and traffickers will bring in enslaved women to meet the demand for sex.” She stared out the window, expression drawn. “Sorry to yank the blinders off.”
“I’m not naïve, Logan. I’m aware that horrible things happen to people. True, I didn’t know it was happening right here in Hangman’s Loss, but I also trust people like Brad and the FBI to keep it in check. And in my own way, I try to help those I can.”
“Like the women who work for you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He gave her a pass on the deception. “Why don’t you close shop for a couple of days, at least until Brad returns. This storm that’s coming is a good enough reason. Go stay with your mom.”
She was already shaking her head. “The weather forecast says the storm is delayed and the worst of it won’t hit until late tomorrow, so I’ll be open during the day.”
“Then you’ll close Saturday, stay at your mom’s?”
“Unless the storm’s a bust, I’ll close Saturday. But I’m holing up in my cabin. In fact, I’m really looking forward to it.”
He wanted to argue with her, but god knew she was one of the most stubborn women he’d ever met. No doubt she’d dig in her heels. He studied her profile, wishing with every ounce of his being that he could reach for her, pull her into his arms, and kiss the living daylights out of her.
She must have tuned in to some of what he was thinking, because she suddenly looked nervous and grabbed for the door handle. “Okay, well, time for me to go.”
“Where are you parked?”
“Across the lot.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“I like walking.” Since he already had his truck in reverse and was backing out of his space, she slumped back in her seat. “Okay, you’re driving me.” She pointed. “Over there, dark gray Honda CRV.”
When he stopped the truck again and she was ready to open the door, he found himself not wanting to let her go. “Maddy.”
She looked at him expectantly, brows raised. He really was an idiot, because he had no claim on her, no right to ask anything of her. Certainly no right to reach across and take her lips with his before she left. He shook his head. He didn’t have a claim, but he would still see her safe. “I’m following you home.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. I’ll make sure you get to your cabin safely.”
“Logan, that’s not necessary. Even Brad doesn’t brood over me like a mother hen, and he’s a champion when it comes to being protective.”
“I’m still following you. No use arguing, blondie.”
So he did all the way along the dark mountain roads and into the little hollow where his high school English teacher had lived. Maddy had left on a few lights, and her cabin looked homey and inviting. He watched her pull her car under a carport and get out, then open a side door. She paused there, looking into the glare of his headlights, then, with a little wave, entered the house.
Logan drove back the way he’d come. He felt about as helpless as a leaf caught in an eddy, swirling and swirling but inevitably being sucked down.
For the better part of a decade he’d been able to push thoughts of Maddy to the back of his mind. Always there, sometimes to be probed like a sore tooth, but something he could live with.
But now she’d taken her place front and center in his mind, and he didn’t think an atomic blast could succeed in pushing her away.
Chapter Six
Maddy had pretty much expected Logan to show up at the café that morning. In some ways, when he didn’t come, it made her feel funny. Like he approved of her plan for Belen, and didn’t want to get in the way. Evelyn texted to say she planned to arrive an hour early to get on the road sooner. A tall, no-nonsense woman who’d taken over the business when her husband died, Evelyn hauled her delivery of supplies into the café with the dire warning that if they didn’t get their butts in gear, they wouldn’t make it over the pass across the Sierras before the snow came and the highway closed.
She’d shaken Belen’s hand and, joy of joys, spoke with her in easy Spanish. Maddy’s heart warmed when Belen gave her a quick hug before climbing into the passenger seat. Standing in the parking lot in the early-morning cold, the crew waved good-bye as the van pulled out onto Main Street.
Remembering Logan’s warning, Maddy walked to the street where the lampposts stood colorfully festooned with red ribbons and garland. There were no shady-looking characters lurking about, only Landon Halloway a few doors down raising his hand in salute as he unlocked his store.
Lulu joined Maddy, and they watched the taillights of Evelyn’s van disappear. Lulu gave Maddy a little hip bump. She said, “Yeah, Lulu, we did good.”
She glanced down at her friend. “This hits a little close to home, doesn’t it? Have you heard from your brother?” Lulu’s brother was trying to extricate himself from a gang in Guatemala and find his way north.
Lulu shook her head. Maddy figured you had to count wins where you could find them, and helping Belen escape from sex traffickers put a huge mark in the win column. But there were other women who weren’t as lucky as Belen, some right here in Hangman’s Loss, and Maddy prayed they were safe.
With a sigh, she returned to the café, poured herself a cup of coffee, and turned the sign on the door to tell the town they were open.
Business turned brisk throughout the morning, which helped to keep her from brooding about women and girls caught up in what amounted to slave trade. Folks were stocking up on essentials ahead of the coming storm, and everyone knew scones and tarts were essentials. The front door opened to let in a frigid blast of air and two men, both bundled in dark clothing and wearing knit beanies pulled low over their foreheads. The smaller of the two scanned the dining room, then approached the counter where Maddy stood. His eyes, dark in a pale face, traveled over her, pausing at her breasts until finally meeting her eyes.
“May I help you?”
“I bet you can help me.”
Uncomfortable, Maddy glanced around the dining room. She rarely had customers she couldn’t deal with herself, but it was nice to note there were plenty of people around to help if help was needed. “What do you want to order?”
“So polite, I like that in a woman.”
Did the guy really think women got off on his
approach? His smarmy comment made her skin crawl. She merely raised a brow.
“Ooh, I bet you’re a feisty one. The feisty ones are more…intriguing.”
She couldn’t place the accent. “I can be less polite if someone’s being offensive.”
“Is that so? That might be interesting. But no worries, I’ll take two coffees.” He scanned the display case then shrugged. “None of this appeals to me. I guess I have more basic appetites.”
Maddy yanked back on the desire to throw the coffee in his face, instead snapping the lids on the to-go cups. “Here, take these. No charge. And never come in my store again.”
“Why, now that’s not a smart business practice, is it?” He took a fifty-dollar bill and laid it on the counter. “This should cover the coffee, and with enough left over for you to buy a sexy number for yourself.”
Bert Morales, Dory’s father, walked in as the two exited the café. He approached the counter where she stood gripping the bill in her hand.
“You’re not thinking of ripping up that legal tender, are you?”
“I could commit murder, I could actually commit murder and not feel guilty about it.”
Bert drew down his bushy brows and glanced out the window. “Who were those guys? Not locals.”
“No, not locals, that’s something to be grateful for.” She thrust out the fifty. “Would you take this? Please? Donate it someplace. Adrian’s school, Friends of the Library, the animal shelter.”
Bert pulled out a fat wallet that Maddie knew was stuffed with community business cards, and carefully tucked the bill away. “They sure got you riled up.”
“It was the shorter guy, but he’s never again going to darken my door. I’d much rather talk to you. What will you have today, Mr. Mayor?”
He ran a thumb under his trademark yellow suspenders. Bert Morales habitually wore a ball cap with the Hangman’s Loss noose logo stitched above the bill, but had traded it for a warmer beanie in bright red that sported a patch with a similar design. Since the arrest of the former mayor for shenanigans concerning Emma, Bert had been elected to the position.
“How about a half dozen muffins, mix up the varieties. Got a meeting with some folks who’re wanting to put a business in that vacant store down near the park. Figure I’d give them a taste from the best bakery in town.”
“What kind of store?” Maddy listened with half an ear as she boxed the muffins. As Bert talked about an older couple wanting to open an art gallery, she tried to rid herself of the oily feeling left over from her confrontation with the sexual innuendo jerk.
“You ready for this storm that’s coming, girl?”
She glanced out the window. The jerk was nowhere to be seen. Thank god. “Sure am,” she told Bert. “I have plenty of firewood, and a big pot of soup I’m taking home.”
Bert grunted. “Your brother and Emma are supposed to be coming home tomorrow, aren’t they?”
Maddy nodded. “They were, but the storm is putting a hitch in their plans. They’re flying into San Francisco, but now their connecting flight to Reno could be cancelled. I’m not even sure if they got to Reno that the highway south would be open. It could be a few days.”
“Then I’ll head over to the resort and see if Dory needs anything.” He gave Maddy a nod and turned to leave as the little bell over the door tinkled and Trish Gallagher entered, unwinding a woolen scarf from around her neck. They exchanged greetings and Bert stepped out the door.
“Mom.” Maddy came out from behind the counter to wrap her mother in a hug.
“Hello, my girl. I feel like I haven’t seen you for a month.” Maddy could only hope that she looked as lovely as her mother in another thirty years. Trish’s short blonde highlights were a near match to her daughter’s, and she kept herself fit with ruthless dedication to her elliptical exercise machine.
“You know where I work, you can come in any time.”
“I know. Who would have thought getting a job would take all of my time?”
Maddy laughed. “How about everybody? With your connections in the community, you’re the perfect event coordinator for the ski resort. You’re going to rock it.”
“Yes, I am. I spoke to Emma this morning. She and Brad made it to San Francisco. She says they’re staying put until the weather clears.”
“That’s smart.”
“I came to see if you baked any of your rosemary olive oil bread.”
“I thought you liked the rosemary roasted garlic best.” Maddy narrowed her eyes as her mother’s cheeks took on a pink tinge.
“Today I’d like the one with olive oil.”
“I’ll get that for you. Why don’t you come to my cabin this evening? We can wait out the storm together. I made broccoli-cheddar-potato soup, and I’ve got some good movies on DVD. You can take your pick of the Chrises to drool over.”
“The Chrises?”
“You know, Hemsworth, Evans, Pine, Pratt. All drool-worthy leading men.”
“That sounds fun, and I would, but I’ll be busy.” Trish’s cheeks reddened even more.
“Busy? During a snowstorm?”
“Yes, well. I received an invitation.” She cleared her throat. “From Landon.”
“Ooooh. Landon Halloway? I want the juicy details.”
“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a big deal.”
Maddy’s father had passed away unexpectedly during her senior year in high school, and Trish had dated some since, but Maddy couldn’t remember her mother ever looking nervous about it. Since Mariana was handling customers, Maddy pulled her mother to a booth to sit down. “Tell me about this not big deal.”
“Landon invited me to his house for dinner this evening. He’s making a pasta dish, and I’m bringing the bread and a bottle of wine.”
“Aah, now I understand why you don’t want the garlic bread—no garlicky-breath smoochies.”
Trish gave a nervous laugh. “Let’s say no garlic breath, period. I don’t think there will be any smoochies.” She sighed. “I don’t know why I’ve worked myself up about this, or even how it came to be dinner at his house. We’ve chatted a few times, had coffee together. He described the house he built from reclaimed logs, and asked if I would like to see it. The next thing I know, he’s making dinner and I’m bringing bread and wine, and looking at his house has turned into a date.”
“Sounds like Landon has game, Mom. He’s romancing you.”
“He’s got something, that’s for sure.”
“Do we need to have a talk about safe sex?”
Trish laughed and rose from the table. “I think we can skip that awkward conversation.” Maddy crossed to the large baskets behind the display case and found the last rosemary olive oil loaf. Handing the bag to her mother, she said, “Here, it’s on the house, as long as you give me all the details about smoochies.”
“Maddy, that’s no way to run a business.”
“I don’t want the kind of business where I can’t give my mom a loaf of bread. You’re on your own with the wine, though.”
“Thanks, sweetie. I have the wine covered.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek and pulled the scarf snug before venturing out the door.
Customers continued to trail in. Experience told Maddy people usually wanted to get out one last time before the storm hit and they were snowed in. The announcer on Drew’s radio in the back gave regular dire warnings of the impending weather. The higher elevations were already getting slammed with snow, and whiteout conditions in Hangman’s Loss could be expected by nightfall.
Maddy conducted a mental walk-through of her preparations for the storm. She was taking home enough soup to last her through a famine, along with a loaf of whatever bread hadn’t sold. Maybe she’d pick up her own bottle of wine. That white wine was her preference only brought her thoughts back around to Logan and how much she’d enjoyed sitting with him in a booth at the Brew Pub. Then there was that hitch in her heart when he’d put warm lips around her fingers to get the onion ring. Redirect, redirect,
she ordered herself.
The power could go out as it often did during severe storms, but she’d be okay. She’d had a load of firewood delivered a few weeks before, her cabinets were stocked with emergency supplies, and in addition to the DVDs, she had print books as well as a fully loaded Kindle. The expected snowstorm meant she didn’t have to go anywhere or do anything but enjoy the blessed quiet with her new best bud. A phone call had confirmed Sophie was ready to be sprung from the vet clinic, and Maddy would pick her up on her way home.
She glanced out the large window at the front of the café. Clouds pregnant with snow obscured the mountaintops, and even as she stood there, Daisy, who managed the antiques store across the street, flipped her sign to “closed.” Maddy walked into the kitchen in time to hear the voice over the radio announce the closure of Highway 395 north of Bridgeport. Drew leaned across the prep table to wipe it down.
“Drew, you’re officially off duty. I want you home before the snow starts.”
“Most everything is done. I’ll mop the kitchen floor before I go.”
“The floor can wait. You’ve got a pregnant girlfriend at home. We’re not taking any chances that you can’t get to your cabin and she’s left in the storm on her own. Be off with you.”
“Right, boss.” He untied the apron from around his waist and retrieved his down coat from the hook by the door. “Guess what? Laney and I decided on a name.”
Maddy could hardly believe the mischievous boy she once babysat was going to be a dad. “What did you decide on?”
“I didn’t really want him to be a junior, you know? Thought it would be confusing. But Laney wouldn’t leave it because she really wanted to name him after me.” He flashed that broad smile of his, looking pleased. “So he’s going to be Andrew Stephen like me, but we’re going to call him Stephen.”
Maddy gave him a quick hug. “Andrew Stephen is perfect. Now get home so Laney doesn’t worry about you.”
An hour later Maddy was driving through the gathering gloom. It was only mid-afternoon, but already she had to turn on the headlights. She glanced in the rearview mirror.
Already Gone Page 6
