by Beverly Long
Now, he sounded so worried. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had worried about her. It felt kind of good. Especially since she was confident that there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with her. If she got another couple hours of sleep, she’d be fine. “Jake, I will agree to stay home for a couple extra hours if you’ll agree to stop nagging me.”
She could tell he wanted to argue, but to his credit he didn’t. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
“No. Just make sure you tell Janet that I’ll be in long before the noon rush.”
When he got to Nel’s, he parked in Tara’s spot. When his phone rang, it startled him. Then it scared him when he saw his brother’s number. Had something happened to their parents?
“Sam?” Jake answered.
“I liked your girlfriend.”
Jake let out the breath he was holding. “You called me at five-thirty in the morning to tell me that? And by the way, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh. So she’s available?”
Jake felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “I didn’t say that.”
Sam laughed. “That’s what I thought. I saw you when she walked past you to get in the pool. I thought you might fall out of the chair and hit your head on the cement.”
Jake sighed. “She’s got an incredible body.”
“Don’t sound so sad about it.”
“It’s hard to explain, Sam. She’s special but we’re not—”
“That might be a good thing.”
Jake frowned at the phone. “What do you mean? I thought you liked her.”
“I did. She’s bright, funny, pretty. What’s not to like? It’s just that she did something kind of strange. Something I didn’t expect.”
“What?”
“You saw Dad walking around taking pictures of his flowers?”
“Get to the point.”
“I saw him take a couple pictures of his cake and then he snapped a couple shots of Mom and Tara. He left the camera on the table when we went inside to eat. After dinner, Tara excused herself.”
“Sam,” Jake warned. “I think she went to the bathroom. That’s allowed.”
“That’s not what she did. I got up at the same time to grab another beer. I saw her head off toward the bathroom but then she walked outside. She went over to the table and clicked through the pictures. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but afterward I checked the camera. The pictures of her weren’t there any longer. I think she deleted them.”
Jake didn’t say anything for a minute. “So she doesn’t like having her picture taken. I don’t think that’s a crime.”
“Jake, I saw her face, right after Dad took the shots. Panic city. Well controlled but definitely panic.”
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.
“Have you run a check on her?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. No record.”
“True. I checked, too. But I’ve got a friend at the IRS. Guess what?”
“She cheats on her taxes?”
“Not that I know of. She pays them. It’s just odd. There were no earnings for Tara Thompson until just about a year ago. It’s like she never had a job before.”
There could be a thousand reasons for that. Maybe it was a clerical error. Maybe she’d worked for cash. He recalled their conversation that first night. She’d said she’d lived in Florida but had been very evasive about where. Maybe she’d been living in a beach shack selling fake turquoise necklaces to unsuspecting tourists. Maybe she was a Russian spy infiltrating the space program. Hell, maybe she was really an alien and her species planned to take over the earth.
All those explanations made about as much sense as anything else.
“I can’t believe you checked on her,” Jake said. It was an empty protest. After all, he’d done the same, just hadn’t been as thorough.
“You’re my brother. I care about you. You never bring women to meet Mom and Dad.”
“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Jake admitted. “I don’t believe she’s a threat to me or to my family.”
“Believe or hope?”
Sam always did cut to the quick. “Maybe a little of both,” Jake admitted.
“Be careful,” Sam said. “I liked her but I love you.”
Jake pushed the end button and within minutes Janet pulled into the lot. He opened his car door and waited for her to get out of her car.
“Where’s Tara?” she asked.
“Sick. Too much sun yesterday. She’s going to come in later. She feels bad about leaving you in the lurch. I thought maybe I could help you open up.”
Janet shrugged. “I’ll be okay. But if you don’t mind, you can start the coffee while I’m getting the grill hot.” She unlocked the door and motioned him inside. “Just give Nicholi and Toby an extra cup and tell them that it’ll be a few minutes longer for their eggs this morning.”
He’d barely gotten the coffee brewing before the phone rang. Jake jumped for it, concerned that it might be Tara. “Hello,” he said.
“Hello. May I speak with Joanna Travis?”
Chapter Fourteen
Jake didn’t recognize the man’s voice. “I think you’ve got the wrong number.”
“I was sure this was her number. Sorry to have bothered you.”
“No problem.” Jake hung up. He saw Nicholi standing outside the front door. “Ready to roll, Janet?”
“Bring it on,” she said.
He walked out, flipped the sign and unlocked the front door. “Morning, Nicholi,” he said.
“Morning, son,” Nicholi responded. “Where’s Tara?”
“She mouthed off to Janet. I arrested her and locked her in the walk-in cooler.”
Nicholi gave him a sharp look before a broad smile crossed his lined face. “I like a cop who has a sense of humor. What really happened?”
Jake poured coffee for Nicholi and slid the cup across the counter. “She’s sick.”
“She’s never sick,” Nicholi said.
“Never say never. She’ll be in later. Just needs to get a little more sleep.”
Toby Wilson came in and caught the last part of the conversation. “Maybe she’s got the flu. She should get the vaccine,” he said. “I haven’t had the flu for years.”
“She’s not going to do that,” Nicholi said. “She doesn’t handle medical things well.”
“How do you know that?” Jake asked.
“Henry Fenton had chest pains about six months ago. Tara drove him to Minneapolis. While they waited in the emergency department, a young man came in with his arm just about crushed from a motorcycle accident. Tara fainted, just fell right out of her chair. Later, when they tried to admit her, Henry said she ran out of the hospital. He couldn’t have caught her if he’d tried.”
She certainly had reacted strongly both times he’d suggested the possibility of medical care. Suddenly he felt the need to call her, to reassure himself that she was okay. He walked back to the kitchen. He picked up the telephone only to put it back down again. He couldn’t call her. She’d be asleep. She needed her sleep.
“You look confused,” Janet stated, looking up from her pancake batter.
“I…I’m worried about Tara,” he confessed.
“Tara can take care of herself,” Janet said. “Don’t underestimate her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d worked for Nel for years. When she closed the restaurant, I didn’t intend to keep working. Tara bought it a month later. She came to my house and said she’d pay me a dollar more an hour if I’d come back.”
“So that’s why you did it?”
Janet shook her head. “Since I got my first job twenty-eight years ago, I’ve saved half of everything I made. I got a stock portfolio that would make you drool.”
Jake laughed, watching as Janet expertly flipped over Toby’s eggs on the now-hot grill. “So you didn’t want to sit home and count your money?”
“No. Besides, I knew she needed me. She let on
she had some restaurant experience. If she did, I don’t think she had much. At that first meeting, we talked about ordering from vendors and I could tell she didn’t have a clue. Once we opened, I figured she’d be lucky if she could keep it going for a month.”
“Why?”
“She seemed too nervous. Jumping every time a door opened or a phone rang. She looked tired all the time, like she didn’t sleep well. I know she didn’t eat right. She picked at her food.”
“I’ve seen her eat, Janet. She doesn’t pick at her food.”
“Not now. Everything started to change about three or four months after she got here. She started to relax.”
“Still think she’s not going to make it?”
“No. That’s why I’m saying not to underestimate her. Business has doubled in the last six months. I’d like to think it’s my cooking, but I think it’s Tara’s presence in the dining room. The customers really like her.”
Janet whipped off her apron. “I’ll think I’ll just take this out to Toby. I need some coffee anyway.”
“Good idea. Nicholi’s practically falling off his stool, craning his neck to get a glimpse of you.”
A deep blush spread across the woman’s weathered face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
Jake chuckled. “Of course you don’t.”
* * *
TARA GOT TO THE RESTAURANT a little before eleven. She was relieved to see that Janet had everything under control. The soups were hot and the meat loaf special was in the oven. Tara wasn’t sure she could have done as well on her own. It wasn’t easy to cover both the dining room and kitchen. Fortunately, when customers realized what was going on, they were helpful. Many were comfortable enough to stick their heads through the service window that separated the kitchen and dining room and yell out their orders, to save time for the person doing double duty.
However, there had clearly been no time for dishes and there were full bus tubs everywhere. Tara worked quickly to get a couple loads started before switching her attention to getting the lunch special into the steam table. They were definitely going to run out of plates and coffee cups if she couldn’t start a few more loads.
She was ladling chicken noodle soup into a smaller pan when the back door of the restaurant opened and Donny walked in. “I came to get my job back,” he said.
Tara grabbed a paper towel and wiped the sweat off her forehead. She was still not a hundred percent, and the heat was really zapping her strength. “Why did you stand me up the other night? I expected you and you didn’t show. That’s not very respectful of my time.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I…I haven’t been myself. I received divorce papers the day before I walked out of here. I should have told you. I was too proud.”
Donny was a man who had lost a great deal. His job, his marriage, his self-respect. She understood loss. And pride. “Grab an apron,” she said. “You’re going to need to work extra hard to catch up.”
Relief flooded his face. “Thank you,” he said.
* * *
RELIEF WAS NOT THE EMOTION on Jake’s face when he came in for lunch and saw Donny come out to grab a bus tub from underneath the counter. Within minutes, Jake was back in the kitchen, pretty much in Tara’s face.
“What’s he doing here?” he asked.
“I rehired him,” she said. “Excuse me, I need to get these tomatoes sliced or my customer’s BLT is going to be a BL.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“To serve a BL? Actually, no. It’s the T that makes it. Especially this time of year. Very juicy.”
He looked as if he wanted to strangle her. “I suppose when Waller comes in, everything will be just fine with him, too?”
“It’s not Jim Waller’s fault.” It was important that Jake believe her. If he didn’t, and he treated Waller differently than before, that might be enough to spur Michael into action. If Waller and Michael were somehow working together. If, if, if. The ifs were killing her. But for now, she had to assume that there was some connection between Waller and Michael. To do otherwise might cause her to underestimate the potential for danger, and that could prove deadly. For her, for Jake, for anyone caught in the middle.
At ten minutes after twelve, Waller walked into Nel’s just as he’d done every day for a few months. He didn’t look any different than any other day. Tara felt the difference, though.
How many times had Michael told her that the secret to success was finding the weakest link? Was Jim Waller a weak link? Had Michael promised something that Waller just couldn’t pass up? Did Michael know something that Waller didn’t want others to learn? Was he being blackmailed into helping? The possibilities were endless.
“Jim, how are you?” She tried hard, hoping he could hear caring and warmth in her voice.
“I’m fine, Tara. How are you?”
“Great. I had a restful weekend. It did wonders.”
When Jim smiled at her, Tara stiffened, not because she was scared but because Jake looked like he was about to explode. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him. He watched Waller like a hawk.
She was barely back in the kitchen when Jake once again came back. He yanked on her arm, pulling her into the walk-in cooler. Tara wrapped her arms around her middle, shielding herself from the cold.
“Jake, if you haven’t noticed, we have a dining room full of people. Hungry people. And they expect to be fed. And by the way, you don’t work here. You can’t be in the walk-in. It’s a health department violation.”
“What did he say to you?” Jake asked.
Tara tried to give him her best you-bore-me look. It wasn’t easy to do when she shook, not only from the cold but also from having to be next to Waller. But Jake didn’t need to know that. “He said hello.”
“Tara.”
His tone said it all. He didn’t think she was cute. “Oh, for gosh sakes. He asked how I was. I said fine. I asked how he was. He’s fine, too. And then he ordered a turkey sandwich and a cup of tomato soup.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, he wants chips, too.”
“You think this is funny, don’t you?”
Tara had never felt less like laughing. She didn’t know whom she could trust. The good guys had forgotten their white hats.
“Jake,” Tara said, “how I handle things is my business. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”
Jake stared at her for a full minute before answering. When he did, his voice was so low that she leaned closer to hear him. “Just remember, Tara. Desperate people do desperate things.”
Wouldn’t he be surprised to find out exactly how much she understood about desperation? She could write the book.
“Jake, I’m cold. And Janet probably thinks we’ve lost our minds, hiding in the walk-in cooler. Just give me a minute’s head start.” Tara quickly left the cooler, making a beeline for the dining room, avoiding any possible eye contact with Janet. However, she’d barely got out to the dining room before Jake was once again stopping her.
“You’ve got a problem,” he said.
And I’m looking at it. The words were so close to the edge of Tara’s tongue that she literally clamped her teeth together to keep them from spilling out.
“There was a guy sitting at the end of the counter. He had a hot meat loaf sandwich and a glass of milk. He left without paying. I saw him do the same thing yesterday.” Jake pulled his wallet out and handed her a twenty. “This should cover it.”
“Jake, you do not have to pay for Johnny O’Reilly’s lunch.”
“I don’t want you to be out the money. I’ll talk to him. Tell him not to come back unless he intends to pay.”
“You’re not going to arrest him?”
He looked uncomfortable. “You could press charges. I’d really rather you didn’t. I mean, he’s an old man. He probably doesn’t have the money.”
It was at that exact moment that Tara realized that she’d fallen for Jake. He was a tough guy w
ho knew how to use a gun and thwart the bad guys but he also had a good soul, a kind heart.
“Johnny isn’t stealing from me.”
“I saw him, Tara.”
“Johnny worked his whole life as a hired hand on several of the local dairy farms. He milked cows. That is until his arthritis got so bad that he had to retire. But there was no pension. No 401(k). Not even Social Security. He worked for cash. The good news is that he didn’t pay taxes on his income. The bad news is that he didn’t pay taxes on his income. He never contributed into the system. So now he lives off his small savings. That’s it.”
“How do you know all that?”
“Janet told me. Of course, it took me three months to get the whole story out of her. She’s not exactly a gossip.”
“That would require talking,” Jake drawled.
Tara laughed, glad that Jake had relaxed. “Once I figured out what was going on, I realized why there were days on end that Mr. O’Reilly would just order milk. Nothing else. He only had so much money to spend for the month, and when he was out he just stopped eating.”
“That’s horrible,” Jake exclaimed, looking appalled. “Surely there are resources, even in Wyattville, that can help him.”
“There are. But he’s a proud man.”
“But yet he’s letting you help him?”
“Oh, I’m not helping him. We have a deal.”
“Tara, the man can barely get around. What kind of help can he be?”
“See those flowers on the tables?” Tara pointed to the small sprig of flowers carefully arranged in the inexpensive glass vases that sat on each of the tables. “That’s his work. And he does all my window displays. I have the best holiday decorations of any merchant.”
“I don’t get it. How did you know that a seventy-year-old farm hand could do that type of work?”
“Watch him. He never sits down that he doesn’t pull out his pencil and start drawing on his place mat. And his pencil always has a sharp point, just so. The man is an artist.”
* * *
FIVE MINUTES LATER Jake sat in his squad car, waiting for the air conditioner to kick in. The man is an artist. Jake had seen the old man doodling. It hadn’t meant anything to him. But Tara had looked deeper. Who the hell was this woman who could look into a person’s soul? And what did she see when she looked into his?
