She did have the piece of information that Bret had requested about one of the boys on the list. Maybe she could invite him for coffee afterward and do a little subtle questioning. Satisfied, she started to hum while she worked. Her grandmother looked over at her and smiled, a smug expression on her face.
Well, let her be smug. She was always right, drat her.
Bret followed Tom to the front porch. This was a bad idea. He was past irritable and into plain, downright flat mean. His father was in Africa on a three-month safari with no phone and no way to be contacted. A part of him didn’t blame him, but another bigger part wished like hell the man would get his life in order so Bret didn’t have to address the fallout. The second phone call to his mother hadn’t gone any better than the first. Especially when he wouldn’t tell her where his father was, instead opting to tell her that she wouldn’t go where he was anyway. His mother on a safari? The thought boggled his mind. She started crying and begging, but by the end of the conversation she was swearing at him. Maybe if she stayed mad at him, she wouldn’t call him for a few days. One could only hope.
“You ready for a big meal? Smells good, even from out here.” Tom followed the porch around to the back door.
He didn’t have much appetite, but he refused to be impolite. “Starving.”
Tom opened the door and let Bret go ahead of him. The first thing he saw when he entered the kitchen was Meg dressed in blue jeans and a bright blue shirt that grazed the top of her jeans and showed her belly button. She was wiggling to some tune piped into her ears through the earbuds in her iPhone and her hips were moving in a bump and grind that made him instantly hard. That his mood lifted considerably was a red warning flag. Man, it was going to be a long night.
Olivia lifted dishes from the cupboard. Tom shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the rack by the door. He walked across the room to take the dishes away from his grandmother and gave her a one-armed hug. “I’ll set the table for you, Grandma.”
“Thanks, dear. Bret, come over here and hug an old woman.” Olivia beckoned him into the room. “You know how to make yourself comfortable.”
Tom reached into the cupboard for a few more plates and retreated to the dining room. Bret removed his coat, hung it on the rack and then scooted around Meg to hug Olivia.
“Glad you could come.” Her welcoming smile and the warm comfort of her embrace settled nerves rubbed raw from his mother.
He released her. “I’d never miss your cooking.” He smiled, afraid to look at Meg.
She saw him and yanked her earbuds out. “Hi, Bret.” She went to the sink and rinsed chip dip from the spoon in her hand.
That was it. After the confrontation from hell five days ago? Hi?
She wiped her hands, turned smartly as if making up her mind, and walked straight to him, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug. “Hug one Applegate woman, you have to hug the other. It’s a rule.”
Olivia chortled, making no attempt to look anywhere else but at them. Bret had no choice. He wrapped his arms around her and felt the remainder of his irritation slide into oblivion. She was warm and smelled fruity—like mangos or oranges. She sniffed, giving away that she was smelling him, too. That only made him wish they were somewhere private so they could sniff and taste until satisfied. That thought made him drop his arms and step back.
She tilted her head, staring up at him. She didn’t look angry. In fact, she looked calm and accepting, like she was okay with who he was and what he wanted. How was that possible?
“I had a chance this week to check with some of the students and I have some information for you,” Meg said.
Olivia bustled past, handing silverware to Bret. “Everyone is arriving. Take him for coffee later, missy. Not in my kitchen on family dinnertime.”
Meg looked contrite, but her eyes sparkled as if she’d planned this.
Suspicious, Bret looked from one woman to the other, finding no answers.
“No problem, Grandma. We can talk later.”
“Good. Bret, you go help Tom finish the table. Meg, the pot is boiling. Let’s get the vegetables cooked. And take those rolls out of the oven.
Meg patted his arm. “Later.”
He walked to the dining room, bemused, but strangely in a more mellow mood. The last thing he needed was alone time with Meg, but for some reason the thought settled him. Something he’d have to think about later. Because something else felt right here. And that was helping Tom set the table and he was actually looking forward to the dinner conversation and being included as if he was a part of the family. How odd was that? After dealing with his mother, this domestic family scene should be the last place that he found respite. Instead, the opposite was true. He wasn’t sure he knew himself anymore and that was the strangest thought of all.
~~CHAPTER SEVEN~~
Meg took the last bite of her dinner and wiped her mouth. Olivia had manipulated Meg next to Bret at the dinner table. She was acutely aware of every bite, breath, and sound he made. With fifteen people at the table and all the talking and meal activity, it shouldn’t be possible to be so damn aware of him.
A rousing discussion about the potholes in the roads around town and what should be done about it was under discussion and for once Meg wasn’t participating. It wasn’t that she was shy to voice her opinion. After all, she’d competed in debate while in high school and now stood up in front of fellow teachers and her students every day.
No, it was Bret. For the first time in her life, she was tongue-tied. Maybe it was her grandmother’s manipulations, or Chad’s knowing grin, or the suspicious look on her father’s face. If she thought explaining things to her brothers would be hard, explanations to her father were something she didn’t even want to consider.
Chad rose from his chair and clinked his glass with his fork. “I’d like your attention please. Since we’re all gathered here, we have an announcement.” Boo and Lindy slid from their chairs and ran around the table to their parents’ sides. Tom moved aside to make room for them. They danced on tiptoes unable to contain themselves. Meg forgot her troubles, curious about what was up.
“What is it?” Rick asked.
Chad took Robin’s hand and kissed it. “We’re going to have a baby. Robin’s pregnant.”
“Yeah, we’re going to be big sisters,” Boo announced, clasping Lindy’s hand in hers, then reaching out to hold Chad’s hand. Shocked, Meg could only stare. The love in Chad’s eyes for Robin and the sight of the four of them holding hands brought tears to her eyes.
The room was silent for several long seconds before the family burst into commotion. Congratulations filled the air. Tom leaned over the girls to hug Robin. Her mother was the first one to Chad, then her father. The twins bounced down the table to Olivia and were kissed and hugged, their chatter about babies filling the air.
Robin blushed a pretty red at something Tom whispered to her.
Bret stood and reached across the table to shake Chad’s hand. Meg finally roused herself and rose, walking around the table to hug Robin. “When are you due?”
Robin blushed again. “When do you think a self-respecting, pumpkin farmer’s wife would be due? Right in the middle of harvest. September 10th.”
Everyone laughed.
Meg hugged Robin again. “This is wonderful. How far along are you?
“Fifteen weeks. We wanted to be sure everything was okay first before we told everyone.”
“Is everything all right?” Tara asked, finally making her way to Robin.
“Yes. Didn’t want to get everyone’s hopes up until we were sure all was well.”
“We’ve been to an OB/GYN in Amarillo on Doc’s recommendation. I guess he was concerned about another set of multiples,” Chad added.
Robin paled. “Yes. No thank you.”
“Mommy says we’re two of a kind.” Lindy had lost her two front teeth and her smile was almost pumpkin-like.
Meg reached for her and gave her a hug. “Mommy is always right.”
“We want a brother, Uncle Tom.” Boo lifted her arms.
Tom picked her up. “Not a sister? Are you sure?”
Boo wrapped her arms around his neck. “I already got a sister. I want a brother.”
“Me, too.” Lindy hugged Meg’s leg.
Robin sighed. “We talked about this, remember girls? It isn’t up to us and we’re going to love whomever we get, right?”
“Yes, Mommy.” Lindy stuck her thumb in her mouth. Meg reached down and gently disengaged it.
“I can wish anyway.” Boo grinned.
Robin and Chad laughed before rolling their eyes. Obviously this was a conversation they had already had multiple times. Tom set Boo down and Meg took the opportunity to make her way back around the table to her chair. Rick and Olivia came back in the room with apple cider and glasses. They poured and passed them around. Everyone rose around the table.
Bill lifted his glass. “My father would have been proud of what we have built here.” His eyes glazed with tears.
Olivia raised her glass and reached for his hand. “Here, here.”
He smiled, squeezing her fingers. “I am proud of this family, too. To another link in next generation of Applegates.”
Clinking glasses and drinking followed. Meg tamped down the envy that was mixing with the joy and drained her glass in one gulp. With dinner over, she set her cup down and leaned over to Bret. “If you can, let’s go to my house. We can have coffee and go over what I found out today.”
Bret leaned over so only she could hear. “Maybe we should go to the police station. “
Meg straightened and shook her head. “My house. It’s important. Let’s go.” She was tired and wasn’t up to jockeying around for a place to talk because he had a problem with being alone with her.
Meg lifted both their plates and made her way to the kitchen. She rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher, grabbed her purse and keys, and made her way back to the dining room. Bret was telling Olivia goodbye and she stopped and did the same, then kissed her mother and hugged her father. She ignored Olivia’s smug look.
Bret followed her out of the house after bidding everyone else goodbye. On the porch, he stopped her.
“I need my file. I’ll meet you at your house.” He walked to his truck.
Meg stood for a moment and watched his jean-clad legs eat up the sidewalk as far as the light from the porch would let her. “I’ll get the coffee started,” she called after him. He waved to indicate he heard her. She hurried to her car instead of standing there like a kid frozen in a game of tag. Seemed like every time she was around him, she couldn’t stop herself from acting like a love-struck idiot.
At her house, she did a quick once-through. She tossed her work clothes in the laundry, hung up her coat, scooped the paper into the recycle bin and started coffee. Finished, she wrung her hands.
Where was he?
Checking her watch, she noted it had only been twenty minutes and was disgusted with herself. To stay occupied, she pulled her briefcase open and examined her lesson plans for the week. Finally, lights flashed across her dining room wall. She went to the door. Bret parked in the driveway behind her car and got out.
She met him on her porch and tried hard not to remember the night he brought her home from the Valentine’s Dance.
“Come in.” She stepped back through her front door and held it open. He followed her in. His face was a blank mask. Frustration welled before she could lecture herself out of it. “Coffee just finished brewing. Let’s get a cup.”
“Meg…”
“I love a good cup of coffee after dinner, don’t you?” She led him into the kitchen, pulled two red mugs from the cupboard, and poured the coffee. “Black, right?”
“Yes.” Bret pulled out a stool from her kitchen island and sat. “I talked to Mr. Marsh today. He didn’t have any information on the boys.”
Meg slid the mug across the counter to him and sipped her own coffee before sitting down opposite him. “Mr. Marsh didn’t do Saturday school this week.”
He frowned. “Saturday school?”
“Yes. It’s the time for kids who have too many absences to make up the time and get out of attendance issues that will cause them to automatically fail. Only four absences are allowed before students have to make up the time. It’s also detention time for those who’ve gotten in trouble.”
He shifted in his chair. “All right. What happened?”
“I talked to Diego James.”
He reached for his file. “Let’s see—Diego James. Ok. Got it. Robbery number five. And one of the boys on your list to talk to because of prior trouble.” He took a sip of his coffee and released a contented sigh. “This is great coffee.”
Pleasure streaked through her. “I buy several different kinds of beans and blend them.”
He took another sip. “So you talked to Diego. What’s he doing in Saturday school?”
“His grandmother has been sick, so he’s missed some school. But he needs to be eligible for spring football, so he’s making sure his attendance is squared. Coach pressured him, I think.”
“So what did you talk to him about?”
“About his time before he moved in with his grandmother and the trouble he was getting into.”
“He talked to you?” His skepticism raised her hackles.
She gave him a frosty stare. “I tutored him as a freshman to help him catch up on some of his subjects. He missed a lot of school in junior high and even making it up in Saturday school wasn’t enough. He’s a smart kid. He and I connected.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. What did he say?”
“Esteban Santiago.”
“Who is he?”
“He and Diego were best buddies during his mischief phase. That’s what his grandmother called it.”
“And?”
“They hate each other’s guts now. About six month ago during the fall football season, they had a fight at school. Esteban started it. Ambushed him in the hall.”
“Mr. Marsh didn’t say anything about it.”
“Mr. Marsh doesn’t know about it. They weren’t caught by any teacher. Diego more or less wiped the floor with him and didn’t want to report it because playoffs were coming up and he didn’t want to get detention.”
Bret lifted his pen from his pocket and wrote the name on his file folder.
“What can you tell me about this Esteban Santiago?”
“I had him in English last year. Failed him. He lives in the canyon and has a bad attitude. When Diego moved to town with his grandmother, she made him quit hanging out with Esteban. There’s been bad blood there for quite a while.”
“What classes does he have?”
“That’s the thing.” Meg rose and retrieved the cookie jar. The smell of chocolate chip cookies made her stop and bask in the aroma. Finally, she put them on the counter between them. Dunking one in her coffee, she finished her information. “He hasn’t been in school since spring break.”
“Truant?”
“Seventeen. He turned seventeen. Doesn’t have to go if he doesn’t want to.”
“Do you have his address?”
“Yeah, I called Marla, Mr. Marsh’s secretary, and had her meet me and check the database. It’s on Canyon Road, not far from where Robin used to live.” She pulled his file folder toward her and wrote the address next to where Bret had scribbled the boy’s name.
“I saw Esteban at Sal’s Grocery a couple of months ago. He was with a girl, but I only saw the back of her head. I don’t know who she was.”
“Height? Weight? What color hair?”
“Average, skinny, and brown with red highlights.” She perched on the edge of her stool. “I’m checking at school, but that doesn’t mean her hair is still that color or that she’s even in school.”
He scribbled the girl’s approximate description in the file, too. “Good work.” “I’ll see what else I can find out first thing tomorrow.”
He pi
cked up a cookie and nibbled. “Do you have a yearbook?”
“Good idea. Yes.” She slid off her stool and went to the bookcase in the living room, pulling the last two years.
Back in the kitchen, she snagged another cookie, then flipped through the pages to find Esteban’s picture, turning it around for Bret to see. “That’s him.”
He studied his picture as only a cop could. “I’ve seen him. Can’t place where.”
She thumbed through the pictures, but there wasn’t a picture of a girl with hair the color she’d seen. That meant exactly nothing, but at least she tried.
“What’s your next step?” She tapped the counter with her finger, waiting for his reply.
“We’ll check the address, see if we can run him down, and have a chat.”
“I’ll check at school with his teachers, see if they know anything else.”
“It doesn’t mean he has any part of this.” He finished his coffee.
“Would you like some more?” She rose to get the pot, not waiting for an answer.
He didn’t speak again until she’d poured another cup. Secretly thrilled because he planned to stay a while longer, Meg searched for something else to say. “At least we’ve got a direction to go.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. We could track a hundred leads and not find our answer,” he cautioned.
“I’ve been paying particular attention to the gossip around school. Seems to me that if one or more of the students is involved, someone would start bragging and word would get around. High school is nothing if not a hot bed of gossip with plenty of people willing to spread the rumors and make up a few of their own.”
“I remember that about high school.” He took another cookie and studied the chocolate chips as if counting them.
“Where are you from? Originally.”
“Why do you want to know?” His tone defined wariness.
She blew out a breath, ruffling her bangs. “Adult conversation. It’s how two people get to know each other, become friends.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his face pensive, his lips pursed in thought. “California. Southern California. San Diego. My parents still live there. Why did you become a teacher?” He didn’t smile, but tossed out the question to even the score.
Echo Falls, Texas Boxed Set Page 29
