While she waited for Wyatt, she cleaned up the kitchen and then checked her email. When her phone rang a moment later, she expected it to be Wyatt again, but it was Josh Burton.
"This is Adrianna," she said in reply to his query.
"It's Inspector Burton."
"Yes, I know. What can I do for you?" she asked, an uneasy feeling spreading through her body.
"I don't know if Wyatt had a chance to speak to you, but we arrested two males last night in connection to the homicide at your restaurant."
Her legs felt suddenly weak and she sank down on a stool by the kitchen counter. "Who – who was it?" she asked. "Did they have a reason? How did you find them?" The questions tumbled out of her.
"The men were in their late teens, eighteen and nineteen. They didn't expect anyone to be in the restaurant. When your friend appeared, one of them panicked and shot him. There doesn't appear to be any premeditation or any link between your friend and the two men."
"I never thought there was," she said, even though that wasn't completely true. "Are they definitely going to jail?"
"We have a very strong case. An ex-girlfriend of one of the guys turned him in."
"That was brave."
"Apparently, he cheated on her and anger fueled her courage."
"You don't think she's lying just to get back at him?"
"No, her story correlates to what we have. We have the right guys. You can rest easier now."
"Thanks, I appreciate the call." As she set down the phone, she let out a breath, waiting for a rush of relief, but it was not as big as she'd expected.
The police had the murderers in custody. They were going to jail. They were going to pay.
But Will was still dead.
At least he would have justice, she told herself. It was some measure of comfort, but not much. She wondered if his parents had been informed. She should have asked. But it wasn't her business to tell them. They'd made it clear to her that whatever relationship she'd had with Will had nothing to do with them. Still … She thought about all those phone calls between Ben and his parents the night of the murder.
She opened the list of contacts on her phone. She'd put his parents' number in there so she could follow up with them about the funeral. She stared at their name for another minute and then impulsively hit the button to call.
Will's mother, Katherine, answered, "Hello?"
"It's Adrianna Cavello," she said. "Will's friend."
"Yes," Katherine said, in a discouraging voice.
"I don't know if you've heard, but they've caught the men who shot Will."
"I was informed. Is that all?"
"No, that's not all," she said quickly. "The night Will died, he was distracted, and the police told me that he'd spoken to you and your husband several times that night. I was just wondering if you could tell me what was on his mind."
Silence followed her words.
Finally, Katherine said, "My husband offered Will a job in his law firm. It was time for Will to stop playing games with his life and settle into a real job."
She couldn't imagine Will in the law firm. "He didn't want to be an attorney," she said. "He liked working as a bartender."
"That's a kid's job," she said disdainfully. "We had bigger goals for him. If he had listened to us, he'd still be alive." Katherine's voice broke. "Please don't call here again."
"Wait –" She'd wanted to ask her about the ring, but Katherine had already hung up.
She set down the phone. At least she knew that Will's preoccupation had been due to his parents' job offer and nothing to do with her. She still wondered what he'd thought about the whole idea and whether or not Will had told his parents that he wanted to marry her. But it didn't matter anymore. She finally felt like she was ready to close that chapter in her life.
Her phone rang again, and she frowned. She hadn't been this popular in a long time.
"Stephan," she said, her gut tightening at the sound of her boss's voice.
"I'm waiting for your report on those dishes I sent home with you," he said. "Lindsay told me you had some ideas."
"I do. Uh…"
"Why don't you come in today, Adrianna? Between lunch and dinner. I'd like to talk to you. Come in around three-thirty. It will be quiet then."
She hesitated. They'd found the guys who had come into the restaurant and shot Will. That should make it easier to go back in. So why didn't it feel easier?
"Adrianna?" he pressed.
"Yes," she said shortly, afraid if she said anything else, the yes would turn to no. "I'll see you then." She ended the call, hoping she hadn't made a terrible mistake. But she'd gone in the restaurant two days earlier. Now, she just had to make it into the kitchen.
Her doorbell rang, and she walked over to answer it. "It's me," Wyatt said.
"Come on up." She buzzed him in and then opened the front door. Maybe Wyatt would give her a reason to bail on the promise she'd just made. But that wouldn't be fair to Stephan. She had to make a decision – move forward, or say good-bye. Fortunately, she didn't have to decide right this second.
Wyatt bounded up the stairs and down the hall with energy in his step.
"You've learned something," she said, noting the decided change in his mood.
"A few things," he said with a nod.
She waved him into her apartment and then shut the door.
"Where's Ben?" he asked, looking around. "In the bedroom?"
She shook her head, knowing she was about to kill his mood. "He's gone, Wyatt. I was in the bathroom for a minute, and he took off. I'm so sorry. I really didn't think he'd run."
The smile in Wyatt's eyes quickly faded.
"I suspect he was afraid that eventually we'd turn him in, and he'd end up in a group home somewhere," she continued. "He told me that he got beat up in the last one he was in."
Wyatt sighed. "All right."
"That's it?" she asked, surprised by his less than angry response.
"He wasn't wrong. I would have turned him over to Social Services, because he needs someone to watch out for him until we can find his mother. I know you wouldn't like that idea, but sometimes there isn't a choice."
"Well, it's not something we have to do anything about now," she said.
Wyatt cocked his head, giving her a speculative look. "Did you deliberately look the other way, Adrianna?"
"No. How can you ask me that?"
"Your aversion to social workers," he said.
"Oh, well, I do have an aversion, but I did not look the other way. I wasn't even thinking about that. I was focusing on finding Ben's mother."
"We may be a little closer. I found a woman who worked with Ben's mother and with Jen. Jen has apparently been calling herself Carly."
"Great, another alias."
"Yeah. This woman gave me a list of places that Carly and/or Jen might be. She also said Carly used to hang out with a music promoter named Brad. I still have to track him down." He stopped abruptly. "Oh, my God, Adrianna. I forgot to tell you something important."
His words made her nervous. "What's that?"
"Josh made two arrests last night –"
"I know," she interrupted. "He called me a few minutes ago and explained everything."
"I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier. I meant to. I just have tunnel vision when it comes to Stephanie."
"I understand. You have a lot on your mind. It's okay, Wyatt. The important thing is that the men are in custody and it looks like they'll go to jail."
"At least you don't have to worry that they're still out there somewhere. It should make it easier for you to return to work."
"You'd think so. Stephan wants me to come in later this afternoon to talk to him about my plans. I told him I would. I'm still not sure I can do it."
"You can," he said, encouragement in his eyes. "You're stronger than you think."
"That's what people tell you when they want you to be strong – as if it will somehow make whatever is coming easie
r. Trust me, I speak from experience."
He gave her a soft smile. "I'm not just saying it. I believe it. I believe in you, Adrianna. You have an amazing spirit."
She was touched by the praise. "Well, thank you, Wyatt."
"You're welcome."
She swallowed hard as they exchanged a long look. There were a good three feet between them, and she needed to keep it that way. "So what's next?"
"We go down the list. At the top is your friend, Josephine. Apparently, she had a soft spot for strippers and girls that were down on their luck."
"I can attest to that – not the stripping part, but the other. I guess we should go," she said, feeling oddly reluctant. "It's going to be weird."
"Why?"
"I just haven't been back to the diner in a few years. I don't have a good reason. I actually feel guilty that I haven't seen Josephine." She wished she could explain her complicated emotions. "I really care about her, but I was always afraid that if I went back to the old neighborhood, I'd get sucked in, like dust into a vacuum cleaner. It's stupid."
"It's understandable. You worked hard to get away from that life. But I won't let you get sucked in to anything. You're safe with me, Adrianna."
"I know I am," she said, a little surprised at just how safe she felt. Who would have thought I could trust a cop?
His eyes warmed with her statement and his smile was tender. "Who would have thought?" he echoed.
"So – Joe's Diner…"
"Yes, maybe it will be good for you to remember where you came from – to be reminded of just far you've gone since leaving the diner," he suggested. "That might give you the impetus to move forward, to meet with your boss, to get back to work."
"I guess there's only one way to find out."
Chapter Twelve
Joe's Diner was a small café near the strip clubs on Broadway. There were only fifteen tables and a long counter of barstools, but the diner had been doing a steady business for almost forty years. When Adrianna and Wyatt walked inside, she felt as if she had truly stepped back in time. It had been almost four years since she'd been in the diner, and as she'd told Wyatt, she felt a little guilty over her lengthy absence. Josephine had taken her in when she was a teenager. She'd saved her life in so many ways.
As usual, Josephine was working the counter. She was tall and thin with a square face that always wore a no-nonsense expression. Her stark white hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore her usual attire, blue jeans and a long-sleeved bright orange Giants t-shirt. She supported all the local teams. In winter, she wore the jersey of the Golden State Warriors and during football season, it was 49'ers all the way. Josephine loved her sports, and she had many, many photos on the wall of the players who had stopped by for a meal.
It was lunchtime and the diner was crowded, but it didn't take long for Josephine to spot her by the door.
"Adrianna," she yelled in her boisterous voice. She came around the counter and threw her arms about her. "I can't believe you're here. You finally missed my onion rings. I knew it would happen eventually."
"I miss more than your onion rings. I miss you," she said, smiling into the warm eyes of a woman who had been a second mother to her. "Sorry, it's been a while."
"Well, you have lots to do running that fancy restaurant."
"I don't run it. I'm just one of the chefs."
Josephine waved away her modest answer. "I know better than that. You're too good not to be in charge. I should know -- I trained you." She paused as the front door opened again. "Let's get you a table."
Before Adrianna could say they'd just come in to ask a few questions, they were being seated at a booth in the corner.
"I'm going to bring you all your favorites," Josephine said. Then she glanced at Wyatt. "Would you like a menu, or shall I bring the same?"
"I'm sure whatever Adrianna likes will be fine with me," Wyatt said.
"This is Wyatt Randall, Josephine Cooper," Adrianna said, introducing them both. "I told Wyatt that you're the reason I survived my childhood."
"Oh, I didn't do much," Josephine said with a vague wave of her hand. "You were almost grown by the time I got you. What can I get you to drink?"
"Iced tea for me," Adrianna said.
"Water is fine," Wyatt replied.
"I'll be right back with an appetizer."
"Sorry about that," Adrianna said when they were alone. "I know you just want to ask questions and move on."
"Actually, I'm kind of hungry, and it smells good in here."
"It does smell good," she said, feeling a sense of nostalgia. "The first time I came in here I was freezing, wet, cold, and hungry. I must have looked like a drowned cat. I was just going to use the bathroom, but Josephine saw me, and she made me sit down and eat. Then we started talking, and the next thing I knew she was taking me to her apartment upstairs. I never left. She has the biggest heart of anyone I know."
"I'm glad you found her," he said.
"Me, too. It was here that I realized a restaurant was like a home. Josephine knows so many of her customers. They're like her family. She opens up on Thanksgiving and Christmas, too, giving away free holiday meals to anyone who wants one. I've been talking to Stephan about doing something similar at Vincenzo's. But I'm sure that won't happen if I don't go back to work."
"Another reason to go back."
As she looked around the diner, she thought about her early days as a budding cook. "Josephine taught me so much about cooking. She used to be in the kitchen and her husband, Joe, was out front, but after he died, she took over his place at the counter. She said she didn't like cooking as much when she wasn't cooking for him."
"Joe and Josephine – cute," Wyatt said.
She grinned. "Yeah. I never met him. He died about a year before I showed up. I think one of the reasons she took me in was because she was lonely." She paused, watching the cooks in the kitchen and suddenly realized something important. "This is the first time I've been in a restaurant since Will died."
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize it was any restaurant. I thought you just had a fear of Vincenzo's."
"My fear has not been logical."
"Fear usually isn't," he said quietly. "How does it feel to be here?"
"Surprisingly great."
He met her gaze. "Sounds like you're getting better."
"The fog in my brain is lifting. It started when I ran into you at the fountain. Ever since then, I feel like you're this whirlwind tornado that I've gotten caught up in. Every day I get spun in a new direction. Look where I am today – back where I started."
"I feel like I'm caught up in the same tornado," he said. "Maybe that's why we feel the need to hang on to each other."
"Maybe that's why," she agreed.
As his gaze clung to hers, something deeper passed between them. It wasn't just circumstances that were keeping them together, she realized, it was emotion, feelings … desire. The thought shook her again, the memory of the kisses they'd shared making her lips tingle and sending a shiver down her spine.
Wyatt was remembering, too. She could see it in the sensual shadows that darkened his blue eyes.
"Adrianna," he began, only to be interrupted by Josephine's arrival.
She set down two salads and a stack of her famous onion rings with three kinds of dipping sauces.
"These smell wonderful," Adrianna said.
"They taste even better," Josephine replied.
"Can you sit for a minute?" Adrianna asked, sliding over on the seat.
"Let me clear a few orders, and I'll be right with you," Josephine replied.
"Okay."
"These are great," Wyatt said, dipping one of the onion rings into ranch dressing. "So far I like your favorites. What else is coming our way?"
"Probably cheeseburgers with grilled onions, mushrooms and pepper jack cheese," she said, grateful that their conversation had turned to food.
"I can live with that."
"I don't eat like that anymor
e, but I guess Josephine still thinks of me like I'm a hungry sixteen-year-old."
"Well, I still eat like that, so I'm good."
As Wyatt dug into the onion rings, she said, "Speaking of teenagers, where do you think Ben went?"
"I have no idea."
"I'm surprised you're not more upset. You're handling it quite well."
He shrugged as he popped another onion ring into his mouth. "I think Ben told us everything he knew. He gave us the lead on his mom, which tied to Jen, which has led us here. We just have to keep following the trail."
While Wyatt took care of the onion rings, she dove into her salad, loving the freshness of the dressing. Josephine had never been one for bottled dressings. Even serving up food at a diner, she liked to use the best ingredients, organic and locally grown whenever possible.
"You're thinking about food, aren't you?" Wyatt asked.
She started. "How did you know?"
"I'm beginning to recognize the look on your face," he said with a grin. "You gaze at lettuce the same way I might look at a '79 Trans Am."
"Really? You're into cars?"
"Is that bad?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, just interesting. Actually, why would I be surprised? You drive pretty fast around the city."
"Because I've been in a hurry."
"I don't think that's the whole story."
"Well, I do like to drive," he admitted. "I took a road trip across county when I was eighteen with one of my friends. It was one of the best summers of my life. We would stop whenever we wanted. Total freedom, a ton of junk food –"
"A girl in every town," she finished.
He acknowledged her comment with a tip of the head. "Not quite that many, but we met a few along the way."
"It sounds like fun. I would love to do that some day. I'd like to see the Rockies and the Grand Canyon, go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, visit the Big Apple at Christmas, see the tree at Rockefeller Center."
"So what's stopping you?" he asked.
"Myself. I've been holding so tight to my dream of running my own restaurant that I refused to take one second to do anything else. I've been obsessed. That obsession has hurt most of my relationships, including the one with Will. He had to take a back seat, and even though he was supportive, I think it bothered him, too. I've probably been lucky that Lindsay hasn't given up on me. I just haven't had time to be the best friend or the best girlfriend. I need to do better in the future. I need to work at relationships." She paused, thinking of how much she'd learned about herself since Will's death. "The last two months, as I hid in my apartment, it became glaringly obvious to me how little I had in my life besides my work. It shook me up to realize how quickly life can change. I should have known that, because my childhood was certainly unpredictable, but I think I had forgotten that just when you think every thing is going great, something will usually go wrong."
When Wishes Collide Page 15
