by Kym Roberts
“He was on salary. Being on call was part of the gig. That’s the way it worked. When he threatened J. C., they fired him. He filed suit asking for back pay for all the hours he’d put into servicing their systems at odd hours of the night, weekends, and holidays.”
“Back pay for how many years?”
“He worked there for fifteen years.”
“And Mac told you all of that?” It was hard to believe the silent man in front of me would put three words together in a sentence to anyone.
Jamal nodded and explained their relationship. It sounded almost robotic. “We speak the language of computers. It’s easier, more direct with no hidden agendas. If you tell a computer to do something, it does exactly what you tell it to do. If you ask a computer a question, it gives you a straightforward answer. It’s simple—with no games involved. No question of integrity. No question of honesty. It is what it is.”
I looked to Mac for confirmation. It was the first and only nod I got from the man. It seemed I didn’t speak the language of computers. I glanced over at my dad to see if he had a conversation with Mac as well. He shook his head and shrugged.
At least I wasn’t alone. It might’ve given me a complex.
“How did J. C. take all of this?”
“Mac doesn’t know. Delbert never talked about J. C. to him.”
I could tell from the look on Jamal’s face that he believed it was motive for J. C. to commit murder. It sounded like a good motive for murder. And J. C. would have enough money to be a donor for the Book Keepers app. It would also explain why he was adamant about the app being taken down…but it didn’t explain the eerie messages Jamal had received. It also didn’t connect Eduardo to Delbert, if there even was one at all.
A couple customers came in and I got busy explaining the layout of the store and showing them to the self-help and cookbook section. I also showed them the new release section where my favorite new cookbook was on display, showcasing peppermint treats for the holidays. They noticed my gift basket for the book signing and I explained about the autographed book giveaway.
“Is that the author Liza Twaine was talking about on the news last night?” The eldest of the two ladies lowered her voice in a conspiratorial tone.
Her partner, however, was a little more cynical. “Bless her heart, that woman doesn’t have a clue.”
I smiled politely. Inside, I was laughing. I couldn’t help it. Liza Twaine and I had an unpleasant history. She deserved a “bless her heart.”
“She said those murders were related to these books, didn’t she? Wasn’t one of the victims found with an ax sticking out of his chest like on the cover of Waxing Moon? And the other was next to a blood moon painting with the victim’s own blood?”
I couldn’t deny the similarities, but I also couldn’t allow the leap.
“I’m sure if there was a connection, law enforcement would be the first to let us know.” At least I thought Mateo would.
“You don’t believe there’s any connection between the murders and that Book Seekers app?”
Jamal couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “As a matter fact, ladies, I think someone is taking advantage of a popular trend and using it as a cover-up.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Why would anyone kill another human being?” Jamal argued. “Not everything can be explained.”
The women seemed to agree and each asked for a ticket to the book. They bought a couple books between them and entered the raffle for the basket. When they found out there were more treats to be had by using the Book Seekers app, they downloaded it with Jamal’s assistance before they left.
“Maybe you should work at the store,” I told my cousin.
“If my app gets pulled down, I may need a job.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I easily dismissed the idea but knew it was a possibility. “Where’s your mom?”
“She had an appointment at Beaus and Beauties to get her nails done. She should be done soon.”
“You’re gonna trust her to walk across the street all by herself?” I asked.
Jamal stiffened, before confessing, “She’s going to text me when she’s ready.”
I got busy with more customers and missed Mac leaving. When I asked what he’d done to our system, Jamal went into some long dissertation that sounded like mumbo jumbo to me. Dad translated: They installed a larger processor with a larger power source. Dad and Jamal seemed happy with the results which was good enough for me.
After school, we had a rush of teenagers in the store. Somehow one of the clues led the teens to the Barn’s loft, where they collected the latest graphic novel by Marvel. Unfortunately, the real graphic novel section was on the first floor, and by the time the kids were done, they were ready to head out the door without even glancing at the new Marvel release. Not for the first time did I wonder if the game would increase readers, or if it was just another electronic item for kids to escape to another world. I would prefer that a book take them to that place, but I suppose we had to take it one step at a time. Getting them to take one foot inside the store was the beginning. It was up to me to figure out how to engage them when they arrived.
At five o’clock I began to get antsy. I may have showered earlier, but I had to do something with my hair. This was my first date with Mateo.
“Can you tell me why you’ve been watching the clock for the past hour?” My dad looked over the rim of his glasses as we set up the tables in the tearoom for the Midnight Poet Society reading. It was going to be a short night since we also had a book art class scheduled in the morning in the loft. We still had to set up for the middle school music students who were coming in to make the piece of art for the holidays. The kids would create a paper sculpture of two angels mounted on a hymnal book; the angels held sheets of music in their hands as they broke out in song. It was the perfect gift for the kids to make their parents out of the stack of old hymnals that had been donated by a local church.
“To answer your question, I have plans to go out tonight.”
“Tonight? Is this with someone I know?”
I wasn’t sure if he was hoping it was Cade, or if he was rooting for the sheriff. He seemed to like both men equally. “Mateo and I are going out to dinner.” I tried to act calm and cool, like it was no big deal, but my dad saw through it.
Luckily for me, he was better at acting. “I’m sure you two will have a good time.”
“Does that mean you’re giving me your blessing?”
“It means I hope you have a good time.”
“That’s it?”
“Should there be more?”
“I just expected the third degree.”
Daddy grinned. “I’ll save that for the sheriff.”
I stopped working. “Get out.”
“Your cousin is rubbing off on you.”
“That’s what Scarlet said.” But that didn’t discount my shock over Dad quizzing Mateo. “What exactly do you plan on asking him?”
Daddy pushed the table off to the side, making room for the microphone up front. “What any good father would ask a man who’s taking his daughter out.”
“I’m thirty years old, Dad. There’s no reason to sit up and wait for me.”
“You’ll never be too old for me to let the men you go out with know that you are loved and that I will not tolerate anyone treating you poorly.”
I laughed. “Mateo would never treat anyone poorly.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t, but that’s not going to stop me.”
I rolled my eyes, remembering how Daddy had spoken to Cade when I was seventeen and how that conversation had ended up with Cade breaking up with me.
“You’re not going to scare him off, are you?”
“Do you want me to scare him off?”
“I’m a big girl, Daddy. If I want to scare a m
an off, I have no doubt I’ll be able to do it all on my own.”
“That’s your mama’s influence. She taught you to be tough.”
“You taught me to be tough, Mama taught me to go for what I want.”
“And you want this?”
“I’m not gonna sit around and wait for a man to propose. I’m going to enjoy life and enjoy being with whoever I’m with until I’m in a committed relationship. Tonight, I’m going to go out with Mateo, and I’m going to enjoy myself.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Mateo’s a lucky man.”
“I’m a lucky woman for finding my daddy at twenty-nine. Life would have been so much harder without you.”
Dad’s eyes filled up before he hugged me. “My life would have meant nothing if you hadn’t come home.”
Needless to say, it was a mutual cry fest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I was desperate. I had nothing to wear because my closet was completely bare. A collection of T-shirts and jeans was all I had. Even if I wanted to wear my black dress, it was in the wash. I should’ve asked where we were going to dinner, so I’d have a clue how to dress. But I’d been caught up in just having a date. Clothes had been the last thing on my mind.
I called Scarlet.
“Help!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I have a date and I’ve got nothing to wear.”
“O.M.W. Charli. You scared me half to death. I thought something was seriously wrong.”
“Something is seriously wrong, I have nothing to wear.”
“Don’t panic. I’ll be right over.”
Twenty minutes later Scarlet was at my door with a collection of clothes over her arm.
“There is no way any of your clothes are going to fit me.”
“They’re not mine. I called Joellen and asked her to drop off some clothes.”
“These are your sister’s clothes?”
“Yeah, we’ll mix-and-match and see what works.”
I took the load from her arms and we moved into my bedroom. Princess looked up from her bed and snorted.
“Do you think she understands what’s going on?” Scarlet asked.
That seemed to be the question on everyone’s mind. “Who knows,” I said, “but her timing is impeccable.”
Princess yawned and put her head down, completely bored with the conversation.
We went through a stack of skirts and blouses, and in the end, we chose pair of my black leggings with a black sheer blouse of Joellen’s and a wine-colored cropped jacket sporting a black faux fur collar. Scarlet had wanted me to wear stiletto heels, but I balked at the idea and stuck with a pair of knee-high black boots that had a medium-size heel.
She pulled my hair back and loosened some strands along the front of my face, curling them and letting them fall in loose spirals. I looked more glamorous than I had since college. It was an amazing transformation.
“O.M.W. You look gorgeous.”
I twirled in front of my mirror feeling girly. “You do amazing work.”
A quick glance at the clock said it was six forty-five, and Mateo would be at my door in fifteen minutes unless he was early.
“Are you going to tell me where Cade’s taking you?”
This whole time she thought my date was with Cade, the fact that she thought that made the guilt return.
“I’m…I’m not going out with Cade.”
Scarlet stopped packing up the clothes. “You’re not? Then who are you going out with?”
I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering if I should tell her. Yet knowing the entire time I would spill my guts faster than all get out. “Mateo asked me to dinner,” I confessed.
“Get out.”
I looked at her and laughed. “Now who’s hanging around Jamal too much?”
Scarlet shrugged and smiled. “You should’ve told me. I may have given you a different outfit to wear.”
“What’s wrong with this one?”
“It’s just a little fancy for Mateo. I don’t imagine that Mateo being on the salary of a sheriff can pay for the same caliber of meal that Cade’s accustomed to.”
Probably not, but I didn’t see a problem with being a little too overdressed. “Being underdressed would be worse. I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you for all your help.”
Scarlet winked on her way toward the door. “Anything for Hazel Rock’s leading bachelorette.”
I laughed. “You’ve been breathing too much perm solution.”
When Scarlet was gone, I fed Princess and paced in the kitchen, listening to the clock tick by the seconds.
When I finally heard a knock on the door, I jumped, smoothed my hair, and took a deep breath. “It’s only a date, Charli Rae.”
I approached the door and smiled at the man on the other side of the glass. I’d never seen Mateo dressed so nicely and was amazed that such a good-looking man had asked me out. He had on a slim-fit navy sport coat with the sleeves rolled up at his forearms. Underneath he wore a matching crewneck angora sweater with a light-blue button-down shirt. His jeans were almost as dark as his jacket and he wore fawn-colored chukka boots. He looked like he could be dinner.
“You look amazing, Charli. Are you ready to go?”
“I need to let Princess out and then I’m ready.” Princess waddled over between us and rubbed on Mateo’s leg like a cat.
In line with his character, Mateo reached down and scratched her behind the ears. He wasn’t the least bit bothered or hesitant about her potential smell. Luckily for both of us, she’d taken a bath while I got ready.
“Do you have a hot date as well, Princess?” Mateo asked my pet, his voice softening as if he truly believed she understood.
Princess snorted and headed for the steps.
“I take it that’s a ‘no.’”
“Princess doesn’t kiss and tell,” I told him.
“That’s a good rule to live by.”
I went out on the stoop, aware of his proximity as I locked the door.
By the time we got to the row of parked cars in front of the Barn, I realized I had no idea what kind of car Mateo drove other than his unmarked police car.
He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward a black Ford F-250 pickup with large chrome wheels and chrome pipes that served as the running board along the side. It was big and masculine, just like the man. He unlocked the door and I slid into a comfortable leather seat to watch as he made his way around the front of the truck.
“Where are we going?”
“I heard you like Italian. Is that true?”
“It’s my favorite.”
Mateo winked. “Then I guess my CI was pretty good.”
“Your CI?”
“Confidential informant.” Mateo backed out of the spot and drove down Main Street.
I laughed. “You’ve got to be joking. You have a CI reporting on me?”
“Not an official one, just one who will let me know if you get yourself in trouble.”
Suddenly that didn’t sound so funny. “It sounds like you’re spying on me. Kind of stalker-ish.” My brow puckered as I tried to decide if it bothered me or not.
Mateo looked over at me and laughed. “Charli Rae Warren, if I was spying on you, I wouldn’t say I had a CI. You told me you liked Italian.”
“What? When?”
“Every time you have fettuccine Alfredo at the diner. It’s not the best Italian in town, you know.”
“It’s the only Italian in town.”
“Let me rephrase that. It’s not the best Italian in the county.”
“Where is?”
“There’s a little place on the way to Enchanted Rock called Café Italiano. Have you seen it?”
I didn’t want to bring up the last time I’d been to Enchanted Rock. I
’d been in a car with a killer and it was not a joyride. I’d seen the restaurant sitting up on the hill before we exited onto a dirt road. Café Italiano had been the last piece of civilization I’d seen before I was driven to my grave. Luckily for me, the hole had been refilled without me in it.
“No, I haven’t,” I said.
We drove the rest of the way making small talk. I found he was comfortable with the silent breaks in the conversation and I didn’t feel any pressure to fill the gaps. A mile before Enchanted Rock, Mateo pulled off the highway and drove up a gravel road to the top of the hill. It overlooked the valley below with Oak Grove and Hazel Rock in the distance. The restaurant had been converted from a brick ranch to an Italian vineyard ristorante. The single-story ranch had been whitewashed and the columns replaced with rustic beans with dark green shutters adorning the windows. The front door was ancient and looked like it dated to the 1800s. The wood was scarred and it had a worn black wrought iron handle. Once inside, I would’ve never thought we were still in Texas. The interior walls were taken back to the brick and whitewashed with exposed beams at the ceiling. The lighting was dim and romantic. The dining room ran the length of the house with white tablecloths covering square tables surrounded by black iron chairs. The bar covered the rear wall with glass shelves full of wine bottles and stools that matched the chairs.
The maître d’ led us to a secondary room at the back of the restaurant. The walls were filled with little alcoves enclosed with curtains. It was an enticing little getaway for lovers. I hesitated. Not sure I was ready for that type of intimacy. Mateo immediately read my hesitation and altered our path.
“Could we have a seat on the patio?” he asked.
“The patio? Isn’t it’s a little chilly for the lady?”
“I’m sure you could get a couple heaters around a table for us, couldn’t you?”
“Of course, of course. It’s not a problem. Would you like to wait for us to get it ready?”
Mateo looked to me for guidance.
“No, we can be seated.”
“As you wish.” The thin older man paused for a moment and lowered his voice. “Aren’t you the young lady that owns that Book Barn in Hazel Rock?”
