by Lena Gregory
“It’s not so much that I dislike him, more that I don’t believe he has a strong sense of anything other than himself. I think Ron Parker looks at everything in terms of how it will affect him or what he has to gain from it.”
“Why does your mom feel differently?”
“I don’t think she does. It seems she’s voting for him more to keep Mitch Anderson out than to get Ron Parker in.”
“Does your mom know Mitch Anderson?”
“Not that I know of.”
Gia fell quiet. She couldn’t think of any more questions.
“Have you heard anything about Mr. Barnes?” Willow asked.
“No. Nothing.” And it was driving her crazy. “I’m sure everyone’s busy with everything that’s going on.”
“I’m sure. I just wondered if he was feeling better.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Okay, thanks. I’m gonna run, though. I think I hear Mom up and around.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Tell your mom I hope she feels better.”
“I sure will, thanks.”
Gia disconnected and stuffed the phone into her bag on the passenger seat. She hit the turn signal and turned into her development. “Hungry, Thor?”
Thor barked once. He was always hungry.
Gia pulled up to the house, took a minute to go through her usual precautions—firm grip on Thor’s leash, house key at the ready, bear spray close at hand—and made her nightly dash to the front door. Sooner or later she’d probably get used to living in the forest, but for now it made her feel safer to go through her routine.
Once inside, she locked the door and fed Thor. She checked the yard for anything dangerous before letting him out in the pen to do his business. While she waited on the deck, she dialed Trevor’s number. No answer, voicemail full, blah, blah, blah… She disconnected and stuffed the phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Come on, Thor.”
He trotted to her, and she led him into the house. A quick rummage through the refrigerator came up with leftover barbeque from Xavier’s, which she arranged on a plate and stuck in the microwave.
She briefly considered calling Hunt, but dismissed the idea just as quickly. If he had time to talk, he’d already have called. She thought of trying Trevor again while she waited, but what use was it? She’d only have the same results she’d had the last hundred or so times she’d called.
If there was nothing she could do to help Trevor, maybe she could figure out what was going on with Skyla, since Willow didn’t seem to know anything. She took her dinner to the living room, put her laptop on the coffee table beside her barbeque, settled Thor with a bone, and flipped on the local news station. They repeated their stories every half hour, so she’d probably have to wait fifteen minutes or so before the story of Ron Parker’s murder would come on. She had no doubt that would be the lead story.
She took a bite of chicken. Mmm…almost as good leftover as it was fresh. Savoring the tangy flavor, she opened her laptop and typed Gabriella Fischetti into the search engine. Several social media sites popped up. Gabriella Antonini Fischetti. Antonini, that was her maiden name.
Gia clicked around on Gabriella’s social media for a few minutes, but there was no mention of a trip to Boggy Creek. Her “About Me” sections all listed her home as Atlanta, Georgia. She had more than five hundred friends on Facebook, and Gia clicked on the “search friends” box and typed in “Allison.” No results popped up.
A breaking news alert pulled her attention from the computer.
A somber-looking newscaster appeared on the screen and started right into the Ron Parker story. “Mayoral Candidate Ron Parker was found dead, presumed murdered, today in a local ice cream shop. With only weeks before the election, opponent Mitch Anderson had a considerable lead over Parker and was highly favored to win the election.”
With Anderson already favored to win, that pretty much let getting him in as mayor out of the equation as a motive.
The anchor paused and pressed a hand against his ear. His eyes widened. “We just received word that Trevor Barnes, owner of Storm Scoopers, the local shop where Parker was found, has been arrested and charged with second-degree murder.”
Gia gasped, which caused the potato she was chewing to lodge down her throat. She choked it down as she fumbled her phone from her pocket with tears running down her cheeks.
Savannah picked up on the first ring. “I was just about to call you.”
“Did you see the news?” Gia wheezed. “What is going on? Trevor was arrested?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to reach Leo, but he’s still not answering.”
“No, Hunt’s not either.” Gia rubbed the ache in her chest—whether it was brought on by the thought of Trevor being arrested or the piece of potato she’d sucked down, she had no clue.
“I tried to reach Hunt too. His voicemail box is full.” The all-too-familiar sound of Savannah’s rhythmic nail-tapping came over the line. “Gia, you know Hunt wouldn’t have arrested Trevor without good reason, right?”
She squeezed her eyes closed. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, Hunt wouldn’t arrest anyone without good reason. She swiped her tears as she strode down the hallway to her bedroom and grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand.
“Gia?”
She sniffed. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
Did she? She didn’t really know what she wanted. Trevor was a good friend, a friend she’d come to trust, which didn’t come easy to her. Hunt was more than a friend, though not as much as she’d like since fate seemed to keep them both too busy to pursue anything serious.
“There’s Hunt,” Savannah said in her ear, reminding her she was still hanging on the phone.
“Where?”
“On the TV.”
Gia ran back to the living room just in time to see the tail end of a clip of Hunt escorting Trevor down a hallway, Trevor’s hands cuffed behind his back. Lights flashed as photographers and reporters jostled for better positions from which to catch Hunt’s attention amid demands for answers.
Chapter 7
“Gia?” Frustration tinged Earl’s voice.
“Sorry, what did you say, Earl?” She pulled her attention from the TV over the counter, where they kept replaying the same clip of Trevor being escorted into the station, long enough to check if he needed more coffee. His cup was still almost full. “I just can’t believe they arrested him. I kept thinking it was a mistake and they’d run a story this morning correcting it, you know?”
“Yeah. But I’ll say the same thing I said the past ten times we discussed it this morning. You can’t make a determination one way or the other until after you hear his side of the story.”
“I guess. In my head, I know you’re right, but it’s so hard to believe.” She’d lain awake most of the night watching the news, hoping for any new information.
“It’ll work out. Now, while you were zoning out over there, I asked if you were planning on opening anytime today.”
She glanced at the clock above the cutout to the kitchen. “Yikes, I should have opened five minutes ago.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
She hurried around the counter and unlocked the door. Only a few customers stood waiting outside. She ushered them in, seated everyone, and handed out menus, then returned to the counter for a coffee pot. “Thanks, Earl. I lost track of time. Willow is usually here before I open, so I don’t really pay attention to the clock until after she comes in.”
Earl frowned and looked over his shoulder toward the door, then back at the clock. “You’re right, she should have been in by now.”
“Luckily, it’s Saturday, so I have Cole here to cook, but I wonder if Skyla is okay. Willow said she had a hea
dache last night.” Gia rushed to fill coffee cups, then grabbed an order pad and started taking orders.
She burst through the door to the kitchen and tacked the line of order slips above the grill for Cole. “Have you heard from Willow?”
“No, not a word.” Cole read the first ticket and started cracking eggs into a bowl to scramble. “Why? Isn’t she here?”
“No, and she hasn’t called.”
“That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“Very.” Gia hurried back out front.
A group of six customers stood waiting by the door chatting. She tried to catch snippets of the conversation, but it sounded like they were discussing a business meeting and made no mention of Trevor or Ron Parker that she heard.
She took a quick detour behind the counter, topped off Earl’s coffee cup, and held her cell phone out to him. “Could you do me a favor and try to reach Willow, please?”
Willow almost never missed a day of work, despite the college courses she took at night and online. Even during exams, she hadn’t missed a single shift, often bringing a stack of books with her and studying when they weren’t busy. And if she did have to miss, she always called. Always.
“Of course.” He took the phone. “If I don’t get her, should I try Skyla?”
“Don’t call Skyla yet. Give it a little while longer, and see if Willow’s just running late. I don’t want to worry her if nothing is wrong.” Gia counted out six menus and approached her new group. “Good morning. Follow me, please.”
The four men and two women followed her to a large table by the window. They all thanked her and opened their menus right away.
Leaving them to figure out what they wanted, she went once again to get the coffee pot. Years of working with people had taught her to read them fairly well. This group, all dressed in business attire, while friendly, did not want to chat. They wanted to eat and be on their way.
Obviously, she’d have to wait for the rumor mill to get up and running to get any information on Trevor, since Hunt had never bothered to return any of her calls. He knew better than to call while she was working, since she rarely had time to stop and chat on the phone. That meant the earliest she’d hear from him would be tonight after she closed.
She poured coffee, took orders, and ran back to the kitchen to give them to Cole.
“Any word on Willow?” Cole asked as she rushed past.
“Not yet.” She ran back toward the door just as the bell rang, signaling a new customer.
“Let me know, will ya?” Cole called after her.
“Will do.” She let the door to the dining room fall shut behind her and grabbed the plates Cole had left on the cut-out counter. As she set them on the table, she scanned the room to see if everyone seemed to have everything they needed.
One gentleman’s coffee cup was more than half empty, so she grabbed the pot and headed over to refill.
“Excuse me.” A woman across the room held up her hand for the check.
Two more customers came in, joining the line of three who were already waiting for seats.
Having spent so much time on the grill since she opened, Gia had forgotten the hectic pace of taking order and serving customers. Though she occasionally pitched in to help Willow, she’d never run a busy shift on her own.
Willow did it every day, and she did an amazing job, but it might be time for Gia to consider hiring another waitress. If she hired someone part-time, only to help Willow out during the busier shifts, she might be able to swing the extra paycheck, especially since tips would factor into the hourly rate.
She grabbed a stack of menus and started seating the customers waiting on line. Though she caught bits and pieces of conversations—can’t believe that nice man is a killer. Did you hear about Trevor Barnes? Who’d have guessed he was a killer all along? Poor Ron Parker. I feel so bad for his family. Wonder what they’ll do about the election now. Looks like Mitch Anderson is a shoo-in—she garnered no new information. It seemed even the Boggy Creek rumor mill had no more dirt than she did.
The last woman on line seemed to be alone.
Gia smiled at her. “Good morning. Will anyone else be joining you?”
“Um, no, just me. A seat at the counter would be fine, thank you.” The petite, soft-spoken woman turned and scanned the street outside the window before following Gia. “Your café is lovely.”
“Thank you. Have you been here before?”
“No, this is my first time. I own a flower shop on the other side of town and don’t get down here often.” She held out a hand. “I’m Donna Mae.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Gia.” Gia shook her hand. “Can I get you some coffee? Maybe a cold brew?”
“Coffee would be great, please.”
Gia turned over a coffee cup and filled it. “I know what you mean about not getting out. Since I opened the café, I haven’t had a chance to do much else either. It feels like I’m always working.”
“Don’t I know that feeling.” Her smile held a rare warmth that made Gia take an instant liking to her.
“Do you know what you’d like, or would you like a few minutes to look at the menu?”
“You don’t happen to have oatmeal, do you?”
“I do, and if you’d like I can add fresh blueberries.”
“That sounds wonderful.” She rubbed her hands together as if cold, then wrapped them around her coffee cup. “I hadn’t planned on eating, just having coffee, but it smells so good in here.”
“Thank you.” Since she was there all day long, Gia didn’t always notice the smell unless she went out to run errands and came back in while Cole was cooking. But she did do her best to maintain a cozy atmosphere that encouraged people to relax, enjoy a meal, and linger over coffee. Hopefully, she’d succeeded.
As much as she would have enjoyed talking more, she was falling behind, and once that happened, she’d be hard-pressed to catch up.
She took a quick detour past Earl. “Anything?”
He held her gaze, the concern evident in his expression. “No. Do you know where she lives? I’ll take a ride and see if anything’s wrong at the house.”
“Yeah, I can—”
“Excuse me, miss?” a man called loudly from across the room. Apparently, she’d ignored him for too long.
“In the file cabinet in my office,” she told Earl.
He nodded, and she took off toward the man who’d yelled. “I’m sorry, sir. What can I help you with?”
“Got any ketchup?” He held up a ketchup bottle and shook it back and forth. “This one’s empty.”
“Of course; I’m sorry.” She ran into the stock room and grabbed a new bottle. Willow restocked the dining room before her shift each morning, and Gia had never given it a second thought, assuming it would be done, as it always was. But since Willow hadn’t shown up that morning…
After she dropped off the ketchup, she continued running around greeting people, taking orders, and manning the register. Earl had disappeared, so she hoped to have news on Willow soon.
By the time things started to slow down, she was exhausted, her feet and back were killing her, and Earl still hadn’t returned with any news of Willow. With a quick check to make sure everyone was comfortable, Gia checked her phone for messages. Nothing.
She stuffed the phone back into her pocket and looked up, surprised to realize Donna Mae was still seated at the counter, her brilliant green eyes red-rimmed and puffy as if she’d been crying or was exhausted. Gia could relate. “How was your oatmeal?”
“Oh, it was delicious, thank you.”
“Can I get you anything else? More coffee, a muffin, maybe? I made a fresh batch of banana ones this morning.” At three a.m., when she’d given up on getting any kind of sleep and gotten out of bed.
“Thank you, but I couldn’t eat another bite. I’m hoping y
ou can help me, though. I’ve been waiting for you to get a free minute.” Donna Mae smiled. “Apparently that doesn’t happen very often.”
Gia laughed. “It’s not usually this bad, but my waitress didn’t make it in this morning.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She grinned. “Anyway, before it gets busy again, what can I help you with?”
Donna Mae twisted on her stool and looked around the café. Then, seemingly satisfied no one was listening, she leaned closer to Gia across the counter. “I was wondering if you’d seen Harley Anderson?”
“Harley? The man who hangs around town?” She didn’t know his last name, but Harley wasn’t that common of a name, so she figured chances were good Gia’s Harley and the Harley this woman was looking for were one and the same.
“Yes, I need to find him.”
Because she always came in the front door, Gia hadn’t noticed if last night’s dinner was still on the table out back. “Oh, no, is he missing again?”
Her eyes widened. “Again? Harley was missing?”
“Well, I guess, technically, he wasn’t missing. He just wasn’t here, and no one knew where he was. Then, one day, he just showed back up as if nothing was wrong. I guess maybe it wasn’t.” Gia had been worried sick, especially when the town had been hit by a tornado, and Harley was still unaccounted for. “Do you mind if I ask why you’re looking for him?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s personal.” She shifted her cascade of curly blond hair behind her back, then sat and put her purse on the stool beside her, dug out a business card, and handed it to Gia. “But if you see him, would you mind giving him this and telling him I’m looking for him?”
“No, of course not.”
“Thank you, again. It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you too. I hope you’ll come again.”
“I will, for sure.” She left money on top of the check on the counter and left.
Gia looked down at the black business card she held. Donna Mae Parker was printed in gold script beneath Boggy Creek Florist. Her business and cell phone numbers were listed in the bottom corner. She turned the card over, but the back was blank. She stuck it in the register with a mental note to check if Harley had eaten his dinner last night and include Donna Mae’s business card with a note that she was looking for him in the bag with tonight’s dinner.
