“We’re out of luck. It’s too old a machine. It only takes floppy disks.”
“Now what?” Annie asked.
“You know anyone in town with a computer we could use?”
“I don’t come here often enough to know anybody. I think there’s a public library, though. Pinesborough is pretty small. You think the library would have computers?”
“There’s one way to find out.” Joe started out of the office. “Let’s get dressed. Guess I’m not as naughty as you. I draw the line at going into town in my birthday suit.”
THEY DROVE ALONG a desolate road that wound through tall trees with icicles dripping from the branches, past frosted meadows where deer lifted their heads to watch them pass. Evergreens dotted color across the canvas of white and tan and tarnished silver.
Joe rounded a bend. A farmhouse, tucked cozy and warm into the rolling hillside, peeked back at them through glowing windows. He could count on one hand the number of times in his life that he’d been in the country. New York City’s rapid pulse set the pace for his heartbeat. But as he drove through the serene countryside with Annie beside him, he felt the beat slowing and an unfamiliar yet welcome sense of peace seeping into his bones, weaving through him like the frozen stream that curled like a silver ribbon through the fluffy white blanket of snow alongside the road.
The village of Pinesborough looked as if it had frozen a hundred years ago and never thawed, a Norman Rockwell painting come to life. Twinkling white, green and red Christmas lights brightened the overcast morning. Strings of them hung in the trees along the streets, trimmed the rafters of quaint old buildings, surrounded every window. Bundled up in hats and coats and gloves, a group of small boys carried round plastic sleds across a small park, their boots trailing footprints behind them.
Joe’s thoughts drifted to his mom, and he wondered if the image resembled her old dream for him and his brother. He remembered the conversations he had overheard between his parents when he was a teenager. His mom pleading with his father to move to a “calmer” place, somewhere safe and wholesome where they could raise their boys. Like this town, he imagined. With a park to play in, and footprints trailing through pristine snow.
How different would his life be now if that had happened, Joe wondered? Would he have become a cop? Would he be married right now with a house full of rug rats? Spend weekends teaching them how to swing a bat or cast a fishing line? Would his brother Pete be alive with a wife and kids, too? His father a happy old granddad? His mother surrounded by family instead of only one banged-up, cynical, middle-aged son?
Annie pointed out the library, a converted redbrick three-story house. Three cars lined the curb so Joe parked across the street in front of another old house and they went inside. The library had two computers, both occupied. The librarian, a pretty young woman named Mary, her brown hair in a loose braid, told them to come back in forty-five minutes to an hour and she would reserve one for them.
“How about we grab a burger somewhere, then buy a few groceries to kill time?” Joe asked as he and Annie walked out onto the library porch. “Our picnic didn’t quite do the trick.”
“That sounds good.” Annie stuck her hands into the pockets of the hooded down jacket she had borrowed from Tess’s closet along with a pullover sweater and a faded pair of jeans. She had found clothes in the guest room for Joe, too, though she had no idea who they belonged to. One of Tess’s friends, she supposed. The jeans were a little loose, but they were clean and dry.
Joe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Too cold to walk?”
“No, I’d like to.” They started down the steps. “It feels so festive here. With all that’s been going on, I almost forgot about Christmas.”
Walking alongside her, Joe couldn’t recall when he’d ever felt more happy. He guessed that was crazy, to feel so good when they were in so much trouble. They had been shot at, visited by the cops, followed. Even if they got the goods on Landau, Annie might still be held liable for breaking and entering, as well as for theft. But right now, in this remote old-fashioned little town with her at his side, he felt as if nothing could touch them, as if nothing ever would.
He wished they could freeze in time, too, like the town. Stay caught in this moment forever, safe and happy, free from the outside world and all its ugliness, all the problems that awaited them there.
Annie touched his cheek, her gloves warm against his skin. “You’re quiet. Is everything okay?”
Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers. “I was just thinking how nice and peaceful it is here. I’m going to hate to go back to the city after this.”
She looped her arm through his. “Me, too.”
They turned at the end of the block and started toward the center of the village. As they passed the park, the group of boys pulling sleds came into view, their laughter and voices sharp and clear in the stillness of the early afternoon. Stopping to watch them sail and tumble down the hill, Joe drew crisp, clean air into his lungs then blew it out in puffs of white.
“Nice day, isn’t it?” a raspy voice called.
Joe turned to see someone approaching from down the sidewalk, a scarecrow of an old man with a weathered face and a slight limp. His red hunter’s hat with furry ear flaps made him look like a skinny Elmer Fudd.
“Yeah,” Joe said when the old man paused beside them. “It is if you’re a polar bear, I guess.”
Elmer cackled, his grin crinkling his face like a prune. He rubbed his gloved hands together. “Keeps the blood pumping.” He glanced at Annie, then back to Joe and winked. “I see you got yourself something better to do that, though.”
Joe chuckled, and Annie said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. You should,” the old man said. “That’s how I meant it.”
“Could you suggest a good place for lunch?” Joe asked.
“Stars Diner. I’m headed there now.” He pointed toward the town square. “Happy to show you the way.”
“Thanks so much,” Annie said. “But I bet we can find it. I think we’re going to watch these boys a few minutes longer.”
The old man shifted his gaze to the sledders. “They do put a smile on your face, don’t they?” His eyes twinkled. “Make me feel my years, though. I used to sled in this park when I was their age.” He winked again. “Had my first kiss here, too.”
They talked a minute more, then he said goodbye and limped away. Joe watched him go, thinking that he had never met anyone more full of life or so unabashedly happy.
“I wonder what it’d be like to live in a place like this?” he asked Annie when they left the park ten minutes later.
“A city boy like you?” She laughed.
“Why is that so funny?”
“I’m trying to picture you in thirty or so years in a hat with ear flaps.”
Joe shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I don’t exactly fit in.”
“Not exactly.”
“It might be a kick to give it a try, though. I think I could get used to wearing overalls and having strangers greet me on the street like we’re old friends. And the quiet, I could get used to that, too. No car horns blaring, or sirens wailing, or neighbors arguing through the walls.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re serious.”
“Just speculating.” He pulled her closer as they walked. “How about you? Would you go crazy in a town this small?”
“I’ve never really thought about it.” As they turned another corner onto the square, she pointed out the diner. “There’s the place that sweet guy told us about.” They started across the street, and Annie looked up at Joe. “What brought all this on? You aren’t trying to find a place for me to hide out for the rest of my life, are you? I doubt a town like this only a few hours from the city is out of Harry’s or Reno’s reach.”
“I’m not looking for a hideout,” Joe said, but he wasn’t so sure that wouldn’t be a good idea.
When they reached the diner, he opened the d
oor and motioned her through ahead of him into the warmth. Immediately, aromas of sizzling meat, coffee and fresh, yeasty bread had his mouth watering. Answering the friendly greetings of several patrons, they chose an empty booth and sat.
If Reno was also mixed up with whatever was on that flash drive, then Joe couldn’t say for certain how much or how little danger Annie actually faced. He had no idea how far Landau would be willing to go to keep Annie quiet; he didn’t know enough about the man’s history. But he was convinced that Reno had sent someone to silence Emma Billings last year, and that Harry’s uncle wouldn’t think twice about doing the same with Annie.
A cold sliver of fear sliced through his heart. This time, he wouldn’t slip up. Whatever it took, he would keep Annie safe. Even if it did mean moving her across country. Or across the world.
ANNIE COULDN’T PIN DOWN Joe’s mood. He had seemed relaxed as they drove into the village, more relaxed than she had seen him in the short time they’d spent together. Then, outside the library, those two little grooves between his brows had deepened, as they often did.
Uh-oh, she’d thought. He was about to start his “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m no good for you, you’re out of my league” routine again and ruin a perfect day. If that had been his intention, though, the little old man in the funny red cap had sidetracked him and returned Joe’s easy smile.
Now the cloud of doom had descended again. If only she had an inkling about what was on his mind, she could decide how to deal with it and set him at ease.
Joe grabbed two menus from behind the napkin dispenser, handed Annie one then opened his. He laughed. “Get a load of this. The John Travolta Burger—No Grease,” he read. “The Julia Roberts Mystic Pizza.”
Annie opened her own menu and skimmed the selections. “Mel Gibson’s Spicy Chili—Only For Bravehearts. Someone around here has a sense of humor.”
“A cheesy one.”
“Shhh,” Annie warned as a waitress approached the table.
Joe estimated the woman’s age to be close to his and Annie’s, though she had the deeply wrinkled skin of someone who spent every spare hour outdoors. She wore jeans and a white apron over her green sweater. The star-shaped name tag pinned over her left breast read Kate.
“Welcome to Stars,” Kate said. “It’s good to see new faces in here.” Nodding toward the next table where two elderly men sipped coffee, she added, “Of course, I like the old faces, too.” She flashed the old-timers a grin, spreading fans of wrinkles at the outer corners of both bright-green eyes. “Especially these two good-looking devils.”
The men hooted and cackled.
Recognizing one of them as the old man who had greeted them at the park, Annie waved at him. His hat was off, and freckles covered his shiny bald head.
The rotund man beside him slapped his knee. “Katie-girl, I love the way you sweet-talk but if you’re trying to get on my good side, I’d rather have a piece of your apple pie.”
Annie recognized the whistling sound the heavier man made when he spoke. She leaned toward Joe and whispered, “I think he’s the guy who towed us out of the ditch.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on a diet, Nate?” Kate asked the heavyset man, her eyes narrowing on him accusingly.
“He is,” the skinny bald guy interjected. “He’s cut down to two pieces a day instead of three.”
Several people around the café chuckled and called out cajoling comments.
“You got a lot of room to talk, Coleman,” Nate said. “You eat ever bit as much as me, you just got a tape worm in your gut. Can’t understand why a geezer my age should diet, anyhow. Might as well enjoy what time I got left.”
Coleman lifted his water glass. “I hear you, buddy.”
“Now if I can only convince Sally of that,” Nate said. “She’s got me eating fat free and walking to nowhere every morning on that danged contraption of hers. I got to sneak over here just to keep from wasting away from starvation.” Leaning back in his chair, he patted his round belly. “Guess she thinks she can keep me alive forever.”
“Could be she’s just hoping you can keep up with her while you’re here.” Coleman winked at Joe. “That’s what happens. Just wait. You’ll see. One day you’ll putter out, but that pretty lady with you will still be buzzing along.”
Nate slapped his knee and laughed, his breath escalating from a whistle to a wheeze. “Ain’t that the sad truth? You may not believe it now,” he said to Annie in a confidential tone, “but the time’ll come when you’ll have to slip a little pill in his juice every morning if you want to get a rise outta him by nightfall.”
As snickers sounded around the café, Kate shook her head. “You two hush. You’re going to offend these nice people.”
Watching for Joe’s reaction, Annie bit her lip to hold back a laugh of her own.
He leaned back in his seat, narrowing his gaze on the mischievous old twosome. “I’ll let both of you in on a little secret,” he said, a gleam lighting his eyes. “You’ve got to use it or lose it.”
“Use it all you want,” Nate wheezed. “But don’t fool yourself, you’re still gonna need that little bitty pill some day.”
“I should’ve known better than to get you two started,” Kate huffed, then returned her attention to Annie and Joe. “Sorry about them. What’ll you have?”
After they placed their orders, Annie stood and started off toward the restroom.
“Good to know you two didn’t get stuck again,” Nate called out. “I was worried. That hot rod’s not made for ice.”
“She held her own,” Joe answered, sounding as if the old man had insulted his mom instead of his car.
“Thanks again for pulling us out,” Annie said as she passed the old men.
At a table across the way, a woman read the local paper. A wedding invitation to the entire town of Pinesborough filled the back page. Annie thought of her own wedding, the weeks she’d spent with Aunt Tawney fretting over who to put on the invitation list and who to leave off, the hundreds of expensive announcements on crème-colored stock with gold engraving that had gone to waste.
Minutes later when she left the restroom and made her way back to the table, she found Joe at the table with the old men, sitting at the edge of his chair, absorbed in a story Coleman was telling. Joe leaned toward the other men, his forearms propped against his thighs. Coleman delivered the punch line and slapped Joe on the back with a laugh, then swiped a French fry off Nate’s plate.
She paused by the counter to watch them, wondering if there was once a time when Joe had shared the same easy male-to-male rapport with his father and brother. Just for a moment she wondered, as he had, how it would be to live in a town like Pinesborough. A simple, friendly place without pretensions, where life moved slowly and people stopped to chat on the street with strangers, where brides invited the whole town to the wedding via the newspaper.
When Nate spotted Annie, the men’s conversation stopped abruptly with a clearing of throats and a cough or two. She narrowed her eyes. “What are you guys talking about, anyway?”
“Just swapping war stories,” Joe answered, and grinned.
She crossed her arms. “More like dirty jokes, I’m thinking.”
As she started over to join them, Coleman stopped talking and gripped the table’s edge. His face and bald head turned a purple-tinged shade of red. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he reached a trembling hand toward her.
“He’s choking,” Annie gasped and the hairs on her arms stood on end.
The table fell silent and Annie heard a plate clatter against the counter, then Kate’s sharp sound of distress as she darted around the counter. Joe’s chair squealed against the linoleum floor as he jumped up and ran behind Coleman. He slid his arms beneath the wiry man’s armpits, wrapped them around his thin chest. Fisting his right hand, he placed it below the man’s rib cage, flattened his left palm over the fist, squeezed in and up in one fast motion.
“Spit it out, Cole,” Nate sai
d, his voice wavering.
Coleman made a strangled sound. A tear rolled down his cheek.
Joe pushed again and a French fry shot out of Coleman’s mouth, sailed across the table and landed on Nate’s shoulder. Shouts and applause went up around the diner.
“That’ll teach ya to keep your hands off my plate,” Nate teased, relief spilling from his voice.
Annie’s heart rate slowed to a more normal pace. For the first time, she noticed the group of people who had gathered around the table.
Kate grabbed a glass of water, knelt at Coleman’s side and said, “You okay, Dad?” She brought the glass to his lips and he sipped then started coughing again. She glanced up at Joe. “Thank you. You probably just saved my father’s life.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Are you two just passing through or are you in Pinesborough for a visit?”
Joe shot a quick glance at Annie and said, “We’re spending one night here on our way to the ski area.”
“You picked the perfect time for skiing. I hear the powder’s great right now.” Kate shifted her gaze between them, suspicion in her eyes. “Didn’t peg you two as skiers for some reason.” Turning, she started back toward the counter with the cook at her side. “By the way, your lunch is on the house.” She nudged the man. “It just so happens, I sleep with the owner.”
Joe patted Coleman on the back and asked if he was okay. Coleman assured him that he was, and Joe and Annie returned to their booth.
Annie propped her elbows on the table. “Well, you were certainly impressive. I think you’ve made some fans.”
“No more than you.” He wiggled his brows and nodded at the old men. “The boys like your ass.”
“They do, do they?”
“They watched you all the way to the restroom.” His mouth turned up at one corner. “Coleman may not chew worth a damn, but there’s nothing wrong with his eyesight.”
Annie laughed, relieved to be talking about something other than the trouble that had brought them here.
When Kate arrived at the table with their food a few minutes later, she said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Kate Kilroy.” She nodded toward the grill. “That’s my husband, Ray.”
Annie on the Lam: A Christmas Caper Page 15
