by Carsen Taite
“It varies. Sometimes, she has someone else from the kitchen deliver the drinks, but I have a feeling she’s going to do the honors all on her own tonight.” Emily chided herself for the tinge of jealousy she harbored and quickly changed the subject. “So, you’re a librarian?”
A beat passed and Emily could swear she saw a slight jerk from Cade, but then she set her jaw and answered simply. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“That seems interesting.”
“Said no one ever.” Cade flashed a brilliant smile. “Sorry, occupational hazard—making fun of the job before anyone else can.”
“I can beat you at that game. I know all the best lawyer jokes. Steals everyone’s thunder, but it’s more fun to give than receive,” Emily said. “I was actually serious when I said your job must be interesting.” She leaned in close and whispered. “All those books. Dreamy.” She placed the back of her hand to her forehead and mock swooned until a sharp clap practically had her jumping out of her seat. “What the hell?” She turned to see Becca standing in front of them with an amused smiled on her face.
“You okay, sweetie?” Becca asked, her tone syrupy sweet. “You look ill.”
“I will be when you hand over the steaming cups of heaven on that tray.”
Becca handed them each a cup along with a small pitcher of cream and a bowl of raw sugar. Emily watched as Cade ignored the condiments and raised the mug to her lips, ignoring the heat to take a healthy sip.
“Oh my God, I haven’t had coffee like this since…” Cade’s words trailed off into another sip and she veered in a different direction. “Guatemalan?” she asked. Becca nodded, her face bursting with pride, and Cade raised her mug in a toast. “It’s amazing. Subtle spice with a touch of cocoa on the finish. Perfection.”
Becca punched Emily on the shoulder. “See, this is a true java connoisseur. Where have you been hiding her?”
Emily noticed Cade’s eyes narrow at the question, and she wondered what Cade had been about to say a moment ago. If Becca weren’t there, she’d simply ask, but she wasn’t ready to share the mystery of Cade Kelly with anyone else yet.
Like a mind reader, Becca announced she had a pressing matter to attend to in the kitchen. “I’ll leave the press. Help yourselves to more.” She gave Cade’s shoulder a squeeze. “Come back anytime.” Emily caught her sly smile as she left the room. Luckily, she knew Becca had a wonderful woman waiting at home, or she would have called her out for flirting with her date.
“She’s nice,” Cade said.
“She’s an incorrigible flirt. Using her mad barista skills to woo women everywhere.”
“Did you just say ‘woo’?”
“I did. Would you like a definition?”
“Oh, I know the word. I’m just not sure I’ve heard it used in casual conversation. Or any conversation for that matter.”
“You’ve been conversing with the wrong folks is all I have to say on the subject.”
“That may be true. I’ll have to remedy that.”
“She’s married.”
“Wow. First you’re using fancy throwback vocabulary. Now, you’re queen of the non sequitur. What’s next?”
“Sorry. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about Becca. She comes on strong with the coffee, but it’s all steam and no substance.”
“I’m not interested in Becca.” Cade winced. “I mean, I’m sure she’s wonderful, even above and beyond her coffee magic, but I came here because you asked me.”
Emily took a sip of coffee to hide her grin, but she couldn’t help savoring the sweet satisfaction of knowing Cade was interested in her and not her gorgeous, culinary magic friend. Happy with this newfound fact, she settled back into the couch and relaxed. “So, now that I’ve shared with you my favorite secret place in all of Bodark, it’s your turn to tell me something about you.”
Cade hesitated for a moment, her face barely betraying a slight frown, and Emily resisted the urge to fill the uncomfortable silence with her own words. Then Cade cleared her throat and offered one of her brilliant smiles. “Well, I love coffee, but I guess that secret’s already out of the bag.”
“Seriously.”
“Oh, now we’re being serious. Okay, well, I’m developing a growing fondness for small towns.”
“Is that so?”
“It is indeed.”
“And why is that?”
“I suppose it’s because of all the secret gems they have, waiting to be found.”
“The coffee.”
“Not just the coffee.”
Cade met her gaze and Emily saw genuine interest, but she sensed there was something more. Cade had secrets and she was adept at skirting over anything that got too personal, which made Emily all the more interested in digging deeper. Before she could consider how far she wanted to go this time, her phone buzzed. “Sorry, always on call.” She glanced at the screen and read the text from Seth.
Sheriff called. Shooting in Rymer. Needs us to draft a warrant. Can you call him?
Damn. Of course, the one night she’d decided not to work since she’d taken office and there’s a shooting. Emily instantly regretted the thought. Whoever had gotten shot was having a way worse night than she was. She looked up at Cade who was watching her intently like she could sense something was up, and she realized that for the first time in a long time, Emily didn’t want work to come first. At least not tonight.
She could call one of the other attorneys in the office, but a shooting wasn’t an everyday event in their small county. She’d just as soon handle it herself. Besides, it would be a good opportunity to show Sheriff Nash she had the chops for the top job.
The expression on her face must have given her away because Cade said, “Let me guess. You have to go.”
“I do.”
“Work or pleasure?”
“Excuse me?”
Cade held up the French press. “If you’re leaving because you have to work, then you might need to take the rest of this coffee with you. If you’re leaving to meet your second date of the evening, then I think I’ll just keep it for myself.”
“You’re pretty funny.”
“Don’t meet many funny people in your line of work, do you?”
“Funny peculiar, but not funny ha ha.” Emily violated her no PDA on the first date rule and reached for Cade’s hand, pleased at the strong grip from her smooth fingers. “How about a rain check for the remainder of this evening?”
“Sure.” Cade pushed up from the sofa and Emily watched, reluctantly as their hands slipped apart.
“Do you think Becca has to-go cups back there?” Cade asked, already headed toward the kitchen.
Was it her imagination or had the atmosphere shifted from intensely personal to super casual in the span of a few minutes? Emily shook away the regret. She’d made the right decision about leaving, and she wasn’t going to rehash her choice. As handsome and mysterious as Cade might be, she was a passing fantasy. Fun for the evening, but she’d likely never see her again. Unlike her work, which occupied her every waking moment.
She stood. Time to pay attention to the mistress she’d chosen for at least the next four years.
*
Cade pulled into her driveway and slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing the form standing in front of the rising garage door. She jammed the car into park and jumped out to confront the intruder. “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I rang the doorbell, but no one answered, and then I heard your car coming down the street so I decided to wait here. I live across the street. Mavis. Mavis Percy. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Cade looked down at the woman, who looked thoroughly shaken at her nosy neighbor routine gone awry. Mavis was holding a medium-sized box in one hand and what appeared to be a bread pan in the other. Despite the cool weather, she wasn’t wearing a coat, and her out of style housedress made her look completely harmless. Cade decided to take pity on her if only to get this encounter over with as qu
ickly as possible. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to nearly run you over. Did you need something?”
“What? Oh, yes.” Mavis thrust the bread pan toward her. “I knocked on your door to deliver some of my fresh baked banana bread.” Next came the box. “And I found this on your doorstep, and I didn’t want anyone to steal it.”
Cade stood holding the banana bread, but she only stared at the box. It was brown with no visible markings other than her handwritten address. She hadn’t ordered anything she could remember, and she had alerts set up on her phone to tell her if a package from UPS or FedEx landed at her door. “I don’t think that’s mine,” was all she could think of to say.
Mavis laughed. “Of course it’s yours. Why else would it be on your front porch?”
Cade watched her set the box on the hood of her car. All she could think about was how she could get Mavis to scram so she could call Kennedy and report the suspicious package, but Mavis wasn’t going so easily.
“The banana bread is best heated. About ten seconds in the microwave, and then top it with a touch of butter. Not margarine. Use the real stuff. It’s better for you, more natural…”
Cade snapped out of her trance. She’d heard enough. She could be neighborly later when she wasn’t preoccupied with the crazy, but possibly real threat the mysterious box imposed. “Ten seconds, butter, got it.” She picked up the box and held it at an arm’s length, like a spider she planned to evict from her home.
“Maybe we can talk another time,” Cade said. “I’m really tired, and I’m going to call it a night. Thanks so much.” She didn’t wait for an answer before walking into the garage and hitting the button to activate the door. She’d pull her car in later when the street was clear of prying eyes. As the front door lowered, she caught a glimpse of Mavis standing in the driveway, empty-handed and seemingly bewildered about her encounter with her new neighbor.
Inside the house, Cade set the box on the kitchen table and walked a few paces away, the banana bread still in her other hand. She wanted to open the package, but if it was a threat of some kind, she didn’t want to risk compromising evidence. She hated to call Kennedy, but she didn’t know what else to do short of calling the local cops, which would involve cooking up some story to explain her suspicions.
Kennedy answered on the first ring and said she’d be there in fifteen minutes. The first five felt like hours, so Cade settled in with two fingers of a new brand of whisky one of the hipsters at the library had told her about. The amber liquid bit at first taste, but burned its way into a smooth finish, calming her jangled nerves.
What a crazy night. She’d never imagined when she agreed to work the event she’d wind up in a kind of coffee speakeasy with the hot new DA. The moment the panel had started, Emily Sinclair had captured her attention, from the way she held her own with the egos on the rest of the panel to her fun, impulsive side. When Emily got the late night work call, Cade had wanted to tell her that she understood. That she’d gotten lots of similar calls over the years. That she’d had to leave many dates in the lurch for the demands of the job. But she couldn’t say anything like that because she was a librarian, not a lawyer. Reference desk emergencies would certainly never merit interrupting a Friday night date.
Emily’s abrupt departure with no certain plan for when they would see each other again was for the best. Their chemistry was off the charts, but Cade knew it would never amount to anything since there was way too much she couldn’t share. Fontana had robbed her of so many things. The only way she could keep him from continuing to take was to stop wanting, stop needing, and be content with the solitary life she’d carved out for herself. She could accept an occasional neighborly gesture, but anything else was too much risk.
A sharp knock at the door pulled Cade out of her funk, and she rose to let Kennedy in.
“Show me the package.”
“No, hey, nice to see you? I mean it’s been since this morning.”
“I figured you were worried about this or you wouldn’t have called me late on a Friday night. Where is it?”
Cade led her to the kitchen and pointed. While Kennedy studied the box, Cade considered how little she knew about the woman assigned to keep her safe. Did she have a husband, a wife? Where did she live—in town or out in the country? She’d gotten here quickly. Was it because she was driving nearby or did she live only a few blocks away?
Hell, she was as bad as Mavis, but she couldn’t help but be curious. If she couldn’t have a life of her own, she’d have to settle for living vicariously. Definitely not through the lives of the students who came through the library. She felt old just listening to their tales of all-nighters and last-minute term papers. She barely knew her coworkers.
Did Emily have a life?
The question crept up on her, but she followed its trail. Emily wasn’t married, she knew that much from the TV coverage of her election, and she would’ve been disappointed to find out otherwise considering their date this evening. But she knew virtually nothing else about her. Making a mental note to spend some time with Google after Kennedy left, she turned her attention back to the ominous box in time to see Kennedy holding the box with a gloved hand while using her other hand to slice through the packing tape with a pocketknife.
“What are you doing?”
Kennedy didn’t look up. “Finding out what’s inside.”
“Well, I could have done that. I guess I thought you might have something a little more sophisticated in mind.”
“Closest place to get a look inside is Dallas. I’m thinking this is something innocuous, but if it isn’t, I imagine I’ll know here in a sec, and then I can hop in the car and start the drive.” She bent back the cardboard and peered inside. “Pears.”
“What?”
“Fruit.” Kennedy pulled a piece of paper out of the box, and Cade watched her read the scrawled lines before handing it over.
Mark, I remember how much you liked these last year. I’m sorry I missed you on this trip, but I’ll be back around Thanksgiving and maybe we can catch up then. Call me sometime. Nancy.
“Well, these obviously weren’t for me.”
Kennedy rubbed one of the pears on her shirtsleeve and took a bite. “Too bad. They’re pretty tasty.”
Cade grabbed the box. “They’re not for you either.”
“The guy who used to live here got transferred to Cairo. Pretty sure these pears aren’t going to last much longer. You may as well enjoy them.”
Cade studied the note, wondering who Nancy was to the man who used to live in this house. An old girlfriend? A business associate? Whoever she was, she didn’t rate notice from Mark that he was leaving the country. The thought bubbled up memories of all the people she’d left behind with no notice, no explanation, and she released her grip on the paper in her hand and let it drift onto the tabletop. “Sorry for the false alarm.”
“You did the right thing.” Kennedy sat down at the table, her eyes on the remaining pears. “So, you just got home?”
Cade joined her at the table and pushed the box her way. “Take them all. Unlike you and Nancy’s friend who moved to Cairo, I’m not a big fan.”
“Are you avoiding my question?”
“Maybe. Do I have to tell you everything about where I go and who I’m with?”
Kennedy shrugged. “No, but if you’ve finally started venturing out into the world beyond this house and work, it might be a good idea for me to run a quick check on whoever you’re spending time with just for peace of mind.”
Cade sighed. She could try to forget it all she wanted, but until Fontana was arrested and tried, Kennedy’s overbearing ways, while annoying, were a necessity she’d have to accept. “I stayed late to help out with a panel on criminal justice. They needed someone to introduce the moderator and make sure things stayed on track.”
“The criminal justice thing? I saw a sign for that this morning.” Kennedy looked at her watch. “Thought it wrapped up a while ago.”
“I went out fo
r coffee with some people after.”
“People from work?”
Cade hesitated, unsure why she was reticent to share that she’d spent the rest of the evening with Emily Sinclair. She had no doubt Emily would meet Kennedy’s criteria for persons deemed safe to be with, but a nagging feeling cautioned her not to share, so she lied to Kennedy for the first time since they’d met. “Yes. See, I’m still the same old boring person you’ve come to know.”
Kennedy studied her face for a moment, and she did her best to maintain steady eye contact, willing her not to push for more detail. She’d barely had time to process her own feelings about her cut-short-too-soon, quasi-date with Emily, and the last thing she wanted was to have Kennedy pick it apart.
Chapter Eight
Emily burst through the doors of the county jail and walked to the deputy at the night desk. “Hi, Randall, is the sheriff back from the scene yet?”
Randall Jacoby hastily minimized the game of Tetris on his computer and moved papers around on his desk in a poor attempt at appearing busy. Emily knew better. She and Randall had attended high school together, and she’d never seen him work hard at anything in his life, which was why he was stuck here at the station instead of out doing actual police work. “No, Em. I mean, he’s on his way back, but he’s not here yet.”
“I’m here to pick up the information for the warrant. He said he was sending someone back with a preliminary report. Do you have it?”
“Uh, well…” Randall’s ears blushed red and he wasn’t making eye contact as he fidgeted around for something to say.
“I know you were expecting Seth, but he’s not here. I am.” Emily had grown accustomed to the deputies deferring to any man over her, but it was time they got used to having a woman in charge. She held out her hand. “So, let’s have the report.” She watched the torn emotions play out across his face for a few seconds before he finally reached into the desk, pulled out an envelope, and handed it over. “They emailed some info and I printed it out.”
