“We were asked to come in, be a visible presence today. Personal trouble with one of the parents. Nothing new about the threat to you.”
Charlie's eyes were serious when she glanced his way, but she kept most of her focus on the kids on the playground. There were other teachers scattered around and among the equipment, staying close in case any of the little ones needed help.
“I hoped it wasn't because of me,” she said after a minute. “They have a deputy meeting me here in the morning and when I get off in the evenings. Just to be safe.”
“I'm glad. Hopefully it's an unnecessary precaution, but until we know more about who these guys might be and what they really have in mind, you can't be too careful.”
She nodded. “Careful. Always.” She looked up at him again. “I'm not exactly the reckless type.”
Logan knew that. She was cautious, but not fearful. Life had obviously taught her what the stakes were, what she had to lose, but she was brave. His chest ached at the thought, and he rubbed the spot over his heart as he watched Katie Ann swing. She looked over to make sure he was watching, and he gave her a thumbs up. The swing set wasn’t far from the back fence, the one that marked the edge of the property that backed up onto the woods. The woods that let all the way to Cameron Park.
A flash of movement caught Logan's eye, and he reached out for Charlie. She looked up at him when he touched her hand, startled, and he almost regretted the action. He kept his voice low. “There's someone there. In the trees. Stay here until I'm out of sight, then run around front and let the guy there, his name is Cal, know what I'm doing.”
“What are you doing?”
The movement had shifted slightly to the right of where he’d first spotted it, but it was definitely still there. Too big to be an animal. His gut told him it had to be the guy. Mrs. Johnson had been right to be concerned. This guy was a coward and a fool.
Logan winked at Charlie. “Hunting.”
He walked casually over to where Katie Ann was swinging and paused to say good-bye, keeping his eye on the trees. She gave him another sticky kiss and told him she loved him. He bent low to kiss the top of her sun-warmed head and whispered the words back—why was it so much easier to tell a child how he felt?—before easing his way over to the nearest teacher. He greeted her, then as soon as the man moved again, Logan took off.
Sprinting toward the tree line, Logan launched himself over the fence. The man had seen him coming and turned tail, but he didn’t stand a chance. Logan narrowed the gap within seconds and a diving tackle ended the chase before it had really begun. He wrestled the man to the ground, subduing him in an arm lock with one knee pressed into his back. In the distance a motorcycle engine roared to life, followed by a second.
Charlie.
Chapter 11
“Costantino’s?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea. Tall and terrifying Italian, probably.”
Charlie stood with Samantha outside the Italian restaurant that Sam had confessed she was afraid to try, mostly because of the owner. Heavy wood doors with panels of frosted glass guarded the entry, revealing only the mistiest of views inside.
“But didn't you spend summer vacation in Italy one year?”
“I studied abroad for a semester. In Rome.”
“And yet you’re afraid of this guy because he doesn’t speak English. And is…tall?”
“And loud! You forgot loud.”
A small bell over the door tinkled cheerfully as a couple left the restaurant. The scent of freshly-baked bread wafted out, and Charlie’s stomach growled. She’d taken her lunch break early to cover for another teacher, and eleven o’clock felt like an eternity ago. Charlie linked her arm through Samantha’s and gave her hand an encouraging pat.
“Okay. You can do this. In we go.”
The appetizing smells only intensified once inside, and Charlie hoped they served some of that delicious-smelling bread as a free appetizer, like the chips and salsa at her favorite Mexican place, because she was just about ready to chew her own arm off. The hostess, a petite brunette with a sweet face surrounded by a wild mass of curly hair, smiled at them. When she spoke, a soft Italian accent flavored her words.
“Good evening. Welcome to Costantino’s. Table for two?”
Samantha was scanning the restaurant nervously, so Charlie answered for her. “Yes. Two. Thank you.”
“If you will follow me.”
She led them through the maze of tables, stopping at one tucked away near the back. “Is this alright? I am afraid we do not have very many unreserved tables tonight.”
Charlie guided her still-scanning friend into one chair before settling in across from her. “This will be perfect.”
“I will send your server right over. Enjoy, ladies.”
Charlie snapped her fingers in front of Samantha’s face. “Snap out of it, Sam! We’re here, no sign of the scary Italian man, so can we just relax and enjoy a meal together?”
Samantha sighed. “Yes. Of course. I’m being silly. He’s just so….ugh, I don’t know. You’d understand if you’d seen him.”
The waiter brought them glasses of water and a basket of bread along with their menus. Charlie eyed the dish of yellow butter, spotted through with herbs and molded into a decorative shape. It reminded her of the soaps in her Gran’s bathroom.
Sam caught her expression and laughed. “It’s supposed to be that color. Italian butter is so much better than what we have here. You’ll love it, I promise. It looks like they make it themselves, too.”
Following her friend’s example, Charlie spread a generous portion of the herbed butter over a wedge of the oven-warm bread. Salty and fragrant, the butter elevated the already heavenly bread to another level, and Charlie thought she might die from the sheer joy of it. She stifled a moan with a second bite.
“How is this so good?”
“I am so glad you like it.”
Charlie opened her eyes to find a tall, objectively handsome, vaguely familiar man in chef’s whites standing beside their table. She tilted her head to one side.
“Have we met?”
“Not officially. My name is Matteo, but most people just call me Matt. We were introduced at your mother’s home when the Brothers picked up your food for the potluck.”
That’s right. She remembered now. The man with the great smile near the back.
“Right. Matt. Glad to meet you properly.” Charlie reached out to shake his hand. “This is my dear friend Samantha. She owns the cupcakery, Angel Food, just down the street.”
His smile widened as he turned to Samantha. “Ah, yes. Angel Food. I have heard many wonderful things about your small cakes, but I have not had the privilege of trying them myself yet. I must do so now that we have met.”
“Yeah. Of course. Come by any time.” Sam was blushing, the flush of pink spreading all the way to her ears.
Charlie cleared her throat. “So, uh, do you work here?”
Matteo kept his eyes on Samantha as he answered her. “I live here. My sister and I share the apartment upstairs. This restaurant is our lives and our livelihood.”
“You’re the owner?”
“Co-owner, but yes.”
Everything made so much more sense now, Charlie thought. Poor Sam. Matteo was certainly terrifying. In a charming, handsome, talented, chef-who-owns-his-own-restaurant, sort of way.
“Anyway. Forgive my intrusion. My sister told me you had been seated here in the back, and I wanted to assure you that you would receive the best of service, even if the table is less than perfect in location. I must get back to the kitchen now, but please…enjoy your meal, yes?”
Samantha just nodded.
“We will. Thank you for stopping by. It was nice to see you again.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Charlie leaned across the table to whisper at her friend.
“That is the terrifying owner? Doesn’t speak English, my foot! You just
didn’t want to come here alone because you like him!”
Samantha downed half her glass of water in one gulp before answering. “…Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it from where I’m sitting.”
“I just…okay, yes. He’s handsome. And…I mean…who wouldn’t want to talk to him more? But he’s probably married.”
“He literally just said he lives upstairs with his sister.”
“And his wife.”
“Definitely not.”
“He’s probably one of those men who flirts with everyone.”
“He didn’t flirt with me.”
“…Didn’t he?”
“Oh, Sam.” Charlie laughed helplessly at her friend.
Samantha slowly recovered from their conversation with Matteo enough to help Charlie decide what to order from the extensive menu. The food was incredible, and Charlie found herself wondering whether Logan had ever eaten here. She couldn’t picture him there alone, somehow, and imagining him on a date made her cringe. Maybe Matteo cooked for the Brothers sometimes. She’d have to ask Logan next time.
Next time…
Charlie smiled at the thought, then winced at the pit that formed in her stomach in response. It was too soon, wasn’t it? How could she do this to Greg?
They didn’t see Matteo again before their bill arrived, but his hand-written note scrawled along the bottom of their receipt proved he hadn’t forgotten about them. As if Charlie had thought it possible. The summer evening had an unusually cool edge to it, and Charlie linked her arm through Samantha’s as they walked together to the small parking lot around the corner from the restaurant. They reached Sam’s car first.
“Do you want me to drive you to your car?”
Charlie shook her head. Her baker friend had been up since 3:30 that morning and looked fit for bed. “No, no. I’m okay. I’m just a few rows over. This was fun! We should do it again soon.”
Samantha pulled her into a warm hug. “Let me know when you get home safe? I might be asleep, but I’ll listen for the chime.”
“Sure.” With a wave, Charlie turned away from Sam’s car to head for her own. It was a dark night—clouds obscured the moon completely and even the stars were in hiding—but several bright street lamps illuminated the parking lot, and Charlie felt safe enough. She walked quickly across the lot, scanning the whole way, her keys gripped tightly in her hand. Safe enough, but not exactly safe. As she approached her car, she glanced underneath it and into the backseat before unlocking the driver’s side door and climbing in. She hit the button for the door locks with one hand but was shaking too much to get the key into the ignition with the other.
She let her hands drop into her lap and took a few slow breaths. The fear roiling through her had caught her off guard. She should have let Sam come with her, she realized. She wasn’t as okay as she wanted to believe she was. She caught a glimpse of her own eyes in the rearview mirror and saw the fear she felt reflected there. Another deep breath, and she was able to finally get the key into the ignition. As the engine purred to life, a flash of movement in her side mirror drew her attention. A black van was parked in the space behind hers and the side door had just been opened. She watched as two men climbed out, and her heart began to pound in her chest. It was probably nothing, but—
She threw her car into gear and whipped out of the parking space as quickly as she dared. The sound of the van door slamming shut spurred her on, and she took the turn out of the parking lot fast and barely under control. Her phone began to ring. Without checking the screen, she swiped it open and held it to her ear.
“Hello?” Her voiced sounded shaky, like her hands. Her whole body was wracked with fear-shivers, and she struggled to stay focused on the road.
“Charlie? It’s Logan.”
“Logan!” A slight warmth thawed her edges, and she managed a shuddering breath. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed no sign of the black van.
“You okay? You sound upset.”
She laughed breathlessly. “I’m okay, I think. I was at dinner with a friend and when I got back to my car, there was this van. And it kind of looked like the one that tried to hit me outside the library, but don’t all vans look sort of alike? So I’m probably being paranoid.”
“Did you see anyone?” His voice sounded strained. Was he worried? If he was worried, she was worried.
“Two guys were starting to get out when I pulled out really fast and left.”
“Where are you right now?”
“On my way home.”
“Charlie, whatever you do, don’t go straight home. Do you see anyone on the road behind you right now?”
She eased to a stop at a light and checked in her mirrors. A white sedan was directly behind her, followed by a green pickup, and then what looked like a dark van. Her pulse started to race again.
“A couple of cars. Maybe a van but it’s a several vehicles behind me, so I’m not sure.”
“Okay, this is really important. I want you to take several right turns in a row. It doesn’t matter where that takes you right now, just take the turns. I’m going to stay on the phone with you while you do that, okay?”
“Okay.” When the light turned green, Charlotte flicked on her turn signal and turned right. She watched as the white sedan went straight through the intersection behind her. The green pickup also turned right. Before she could see what the van did, she’d reached the next intersection.
“I’m at another light, but I can’t see the van anymore.”
“Just keep turning.”
She turned right again. The pickup truck turned left, leaving the road behind her empty.
“I think they’re gone.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relaxed, and she felt almost giddy as the panic began to fade, only to tense back up as the black van from the restaurant appeared a block behind her.
“No!”
“What is it?” Logan’s voice boomed over the phone, and she winced.
“It’s still there. The black van.”
“Okay, listen to me, Charlie. It might be nothing, but I’m not convinced. I want you to drive straight to the Sheriff’s Department. Do you know the way from where you are?”
“I do.”
“Good. Drive straight there, as fast as you can and stopping as little as possible. If the van does anything other than follow you, you call 911, okay? When you get to the station, don’t worry about parking, just pull all the way up to the door, as close to the building as you can. I’ll meet you there.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she blinked them away. She hated being afraid. It made her feel weak. Helpless. Exactly the way she’d felt when she found out about Greg.
“Charlie?”
“Yes, yeah, okay. I’ll go straight there.”
“It’s going to be okay, Charlie. I promise.”
Chapter 12
Logan leaned hard into the turn, taking the angle so sharply he had to use his foot to push off and keep his bike upright as he straightened out. The wind tore the prayers from his lips as he rode. The Sheriff’s Department wasn’t far from where he lived, but he felt like he was going in slow motion. She was in danger. She was in danger, and it was all his fault. His fingers curled harder around the grips.
Let her be okay. Please. Just let her be okay.
Logan smelled burned rubber as the wheels of his motorcycle squealed in protest. He finally turned into the Sheriff's Department parking lot and saw Charlie's beat-up car pulled all the way up to the front door, her bumper nearly kissing the glass. Good girl. The driver's side door stood open, and he could see her standing in the lobby, arms wrapped around herself like the hug he wanted to give her but couldn't. He pulled his bike up beside her car, kicking down the stand and pulling off his helmet in one smooth motion. He was still peeling off his gloves as he shouldered open the door.
“Charlie,” he said. The look on her face when she turned to him was half fear, half relief. She was s
hivering, but he could tell she was trying to hide it, her fingers digging into her upper arms as though she was willing herself to at least appear calm. She hesitated, then closed the distance to wrap her arms around his waist. Logan froze. He’d been so busy reminding himself not to touch her that he hadn’t considered what to do if she touched him first. After a moment, he returned the hug, folding her against his chest and resting his chin on top of her head briefly.
She looked up and offered him a lopsided smile before stepping back. Her eyes were filled with tears again, and his chest tightened at the sight.
She cleared her throat. “I'm okay.”
Logan looked over her shoulder to the deputy she'd been talking to when he walked in. “You got cameras on the parking lot?”
The deputy crossed his arms over his chest. “What's it to you?”
Charlie frowned and turned back to the deputy. “Really? He's my friend. He's the one that told me to come here.”
The deputy relaxed a little but not much. He knew who Logan was, and he obviously had opinions about it. Logan didn't care what he thought of him unless it got in the way of helping Charlie.
“I ask, because maybe they caught the van. Maybe it had to turn around at that street light out there. Does it have traffic cams?”
The deputy laughed. It was a harsh sound without humor. He sounded more like a jackal than a man. “Here in Willow Bough? I think not. Already got somebody checking the parking lot cameras, but thanks for telling us how to do our jobs. We love that.”
“Hey,” Charlie said. “Seriously, there's no need to be rude here. He's just trying to help.”
“I get that, Miss Charlotte. Truly, I do. But trust me when I say we don't need his kind of help. And neither do you. You should choose better friends, you don't mind my saying.”
“I do mind. I definitely mind.” Her jaw was set, and something like anger flashed in her eyes. The tears were gone. “Is there anybody else I could talk to?”
“Charlie.” Logan shook his head once she looked at him. “It's fine. I'm going to go see if I can talk to the sheriff. You just finish giving him your statement, okay? Don't worry about me.”
Faith by Fire (Prodigal Brothers MC Book 1) Page 7
