A glance around the room had him wondering if Lucy would ever be content to live at the bar should he succeed in bringing her back. His rooms upstairs suited him fine—he’d never been one to feel comfortable around fancy trappings—but a mate would want more.
She was content here before, his bear reminded him.
“Yes, but she didn’t live here. Plus, she’s had a taste of city life.”
We’ve been in cities before, the animal sneered. They are no place to live.
“Not everyone thinks like us.”
True.
Would Lucy return if he asked? Or was she happy in her new life? It was hard for him to imagine anyone being content in the unnatural atmosphere of metal and concrete. And clearly it wasn’t safe given Ryne’s report. The idea of Lucy being in trouble had him baring his teeth.
We will hunt down anyone who tries to hurt her, his bear declared.
“Yes, we will deal with them but in a city, it won’t be that easy.”
There will be too many people around to shift form. The animal grumbled, not pleased it would be restrained.
“At least we have other options.” He reached down and pulled out the knife he carried. The cool metal blade glinted in the dim light as he slowly turned it. It was long and razor sharp, just like his claws. As a bear, he had no need of it, and in human form his size intimidated most who got out of line in the bar. The knife was more for show, however, he could wield it as skillfully as his paint brushes. Axe and knife throwing competitions were a local past time at which he excelled.
A knothole in the panelling caught his attention. He weighed the knife in his hand, flicked his wrist and sent the weapon hissing through the air. A dull thud sounded as the blade sank deeply into the target. He gave a satisfied grunt. That was how he’d deal with an enemy of his Lucy.
Somewhere in Chicago…
The outer door opened and then closed with a slam, followed by the sound of angry footsteps crossing the foyer to the office.
Having just ended a decidedly unpleasant phone call, the individual waiting inside was ready with scathing accusations as soon as the owner of those footsteps entered.
“I was just informed you didn’t make the delivery. What the hell happened?”
“There was an unexpected problem.”
“Unexpected problems don’t happen. You plan. You anticipate. You—”
“I know what the fuck should happen, but it didn’t, okay?” A chair was shoved out of the way.
“They can’t proceed until—”
“Tell them we can fix it. One day. Two days, tops.”
“I’m not telling them, that’s your job. You messed up. You take the heat.”
“We’ll both take the heat. They won’t care who was at fault, all they care about is results! Now this is what I need you to do…”
Chapter 4
Lou. Louise Chandler.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror just as she did each morning, repeating her name, getting into character. It was a ritual she’d started in the hospital while memorizing the new identity Ryne had created for her, and one she still performed. It set the tone for her day, reminding her of the person she now was, of the course she’d set for her new life.
That done, she began humming softly as she prepared for work. She’d slept well the past two nights, which was surprising given recent events. Perhaps it was the fact it had rained all day yesterday, clearing away some of the humidity and lowering the temperature. Or maybe it was because she’d finally reconnected with someone from her old life. The thought had crossed her mind more than once; she’d just never had the nerve to pick up the phone. The mugging had forced her hand, taking the decision from her.
Whatever the case, a feeling of calm had settled on her.
“Things happen for a reason,” she told her reflection.
Memories of Stump River often filled her thoughts, especially at night when she couldn’t sleep. Chicago was nice, there was always lots to do, but it was impersonal and she was merely one in a sea of thousands of faces. She could move to another little town but leaving Chicago was the final step in severing all ties with her old life. Staying meant the door was cracked open, giving fate an opportunity for Ryne to find her.
Not that she was in love with Ryne. They’d had their moments, but in the end, he was more a friend. And now he was married with a baby and she was truly happy for him. She smiled wondering what the child looked like.
The door handle rattled, interrupting her thoughts, and a groggy sounding Roxi called out, “You in there, Lulu?”
“Yep, just a sec.” She adjusted her glasses then pulled her hair back in a ponytail, tugging a few strands loose to help hide her scar. Her finger trailed down its length before she compressed her lips and forced her hand away. The puckered skin didn’t matter. She had value beyond her appearance.
Gathering her things, she left the bathroom. Roxi was leaning against the wall, her eyes half-closed and her hair sticking out at odd angles.
“Morning.” Roxi mumbled the word.
“Looks like you had a good time last night.”
“Hmm.” Roxi pushed off from the wall and stumbled into the bathroom. She wasn’t a morning person even on the best of days.
Lou finished dressing then made herself a piece of toast.
Roxi eventually wandered into the kitchen and poured a glass of juice then slumped down at the breakfast bar. “Why do I do things like this?”
“Like what?”
“Eat too much, drink too much, dance all night and stay out too late.”
“Because you’re young? It’s a rite of passage, I think.”
“Yeah, that must be it.”
Roxi drank her juice and Lou munched her toast thinking how she used to spend her nights at the Broken Antler.
It had been fun…and then it hadn’t. The voice in her head sighed.
Was she getting old? Even though Roxi was younger, she’d never thought that much about their age gap. Mostly, it was different experiences, she supposed. Roxi had street smarts from living in a big city whereas she knew about relationships.
Or at least how not to have one.
Growing up, she’d moved a lot, her mother drifting from one town to another, always chasing a better life that never materialized. Stump River was the place they’d remained the longest, not because her mother had finally found her happily ever after but because she’d become ill, years of hard living leading to an early grave.
At eighteen with no other family, she’d remained in the town after her mother’s death, the townspeople kindly helping her through that difficult time. She still remembered how Ruth had found her a room to rent and Armand had offered her a job at the Broken Antler to help supplement her wages from the diner. At the time she’d wondered if he was interested in her, but when he didn’t make a move she’d decided she was mistaken and found companionship elsewhere.
As for Armand, he’d remained a good friend, yet always ignoring her subtle hints she’d like more.
Or at least until the day we left Stump River.
Right.
Maybe, if he’d made his move sooner, she wouldn’t have begged Ryne to help her with this ruse. Maybe she would have returned. Or maybe not. All she’d known during those first dark days was that one kiss after years of being ignored was too slim a chance to bet the rest of one’s life on.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving for work?” Roxi’s voice startled her from her musings.
“Yikes! I’d better get moving.” She brushed the toast crumbs from her fingers and finished the rest of her coffee. “Have a good day. I’ll be late getting home; I’m heading to the drop-in centre after work. See you later.” She grabbed her keys and purse, pausing to check the contents and then hurried on her way.
As she jogged down the stairs, she speculated about the arrival of her new ID. It had arrived yesterday afternoon, delivered by a good looking, taciturn messenger. He’d asked her name then handed her
the package and left. How Ryne had been able to get the documents so quickly, she had no idea. She wasn’t even sure she’d told him her address!
She shook her head. That man sure had connections. He was tight-lipped and seemed to know more about what was going on around him than he should. She’d once speculated that he was a secret agent or one of those special ops types. After all, men like Ryne Taylor didn’t settle in places like Stump River unless they had a good reason. The thing was, no one dared question what that reason might be. Ryne gave off a vibe that radiated proceed with caution.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she crossed the foyer and stepped out onto the street. It was a sunny day, the air warm, the humidity low and the sky a beautiful shade of blue. It put an extra bounce in her step and erased any thoughts of black limos or weird ‘being followed’ feelings. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a better mood, a few giving her a friendly nod and a smile as they passed on the sidewalk. On days like this, she couldn’t think why she’d ever consider leaving the city.
“Good morning, Jeff!” She pushed open the door of the diner and started to greet the cook, only to realize it was Dylan, the afternoon chef. “Sorry, Dylan. Where’s Jeff?”
“He had an appointment. I said I’d cover for him. He’ll be back before the lunch hour rush.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She began to check the tables had menus and the sugar containers were full. Gin was already making coffee for the breakfast customers that would be coming in soon. Kathy was wrapping utensils in paper napkins. Morning at the King’s Plate was falling into its usual rhythm.
It was peaceful in the way any familiar routine was, allowing a person to function on auto-pilot while their brain slowly got up to full speed. The bowling alley didn’t open until noon so the diner was relatively quiet, the sound of oil sizzling and dishes clattering blended with the hum of conversation and the soft ting of the bell that indicated an order was ready to be served. No one had to raise their voice to be heard over the sound of a strike and the music was just a local radio station. Yeah, morning shifts were good.
The hours passed, the breakfast customers leaving to be replaced by those searching for a mid-morning coffee. Jeff returned and resumed his usual place in the kitchen.
“Hey Lou, check this out.” He began to slice onions into rings. “It slices. It dices.” He flipped the knife in the air, catching it by the handle and continuing to slice the onions. “The blade is perfectly balanced, becoming one with the chef who uses it.” He ended with flourish.
She grinned. “That was a good trick.”
“Thanks. I saw it on TV last night and practised until I could do it. Only nicked myself a few times.”
“Well, use that trick if you ever get an audition for TV and I’m sure you’ll get the job.”
“You think so?” The look on his face full of hope.
She patted his shoulder. “If it’s meant to be. And if you don’t, then better things are coming, right?”
“Right.” He smiled and nodded before getting back to work.
The lunchtime crowd was now filling the eatery. Regulars like Paul, Andrew, and Will stopped in as did Karen and Lester, an elderly couple. With practiced ease she delivered meals, topped up coffee and kept a banter going with the boys then nodded as Karen and Lester shared bits of news from the paper they were both perusing.
“When are you going to go out with me?” Paul asked. He was middle-aged, balding and had the beginnings of a paunch.
“You?” Will shook his head. “She’s mine.” In contrast to Paul, Will was small and wiry with a droopy mustache that gave him a perpetually sad look. They were brothers, never married to the best of her knowledge, yet real gentlemen all the same. Just look at how they fussed over her, looking beyond her scar and acting as if she was something special. She added an extra dollop of whipped cream to their pieces of pie.
Andrew rolled his eyes and shot the others a warning look. He seemed to feel it was his duty to ensure the others behaved around her. It was kind of him, even if it was unnecessary. After working at the Broken Antler, she could handle the clientele herself. The two brothers were no threat.
“Sorry boys, no fraternizing.” She flashed a smile. Back home she’d accepted every invitation thinking she’d never know who was Mr. Right if she didn’t give them a chance. The strategy hadn’t worked in her favour though. Good old Lucy, that was who she’d become; great for a romp but never good enough to marry. It was one of the reasons she’d decided to start a new life. She’d wanted more, had deserved more, and since Stump River didn’t seem inclined to give it to her, she’d find it herself right here in Chicago!
The door opened and she sensed another customer entering, pausing and then finding a seat. She had the vague impression it was a man and he’d chosen a spot in Gin’s section. Knowing the other waitress would deal with him, she continued with her own customers. A glance at the next table showed they were done with their meal so she went to see if they wanted anything else, and when they said no, she handed them their bill.
“Pay at the register when you’re ready.”
The next booth of diners had already left so she grabbed a tray, a damp cloth and a bottle of disinfectant in order to clear the dishes away and wipe the table.
As she worked, a twitchiness developed between her shoulder blades again. It was different from the feeling she had when she knew a customer was trying to catch her eye. This was more like the sensation she’d had a few days ago just before she’d been mugged.
Her movements slowed, her fingers curling into the cloth. Was it the mugger? Had he discovered where she worked? Perhaps following her here from her apartment? She swallowed hard and tried to use the reflection in the window to see behind her, only the angle of the sun was wrong. Turning around to look would make sense except she couldn’t seem to convince her muscles to cooperate.
Instead, she kept clearing the table, eyes focused on her work as she scraped the leftovers onto one plate then stacked the others and placed them on the tray. Next she gathered napkins and empty sugar packets, setting the utensils on top so the napkins wouldn’t blow off as she walked. She added the cups and water glasses.
Whoever was looking at her hadn’t stopped. The watcher’s gaze seemed to be boring a hole into her back. Her hand trembled as she arranged the salt and pepper shakers. When she was done, she lifted the tray and walked stiffly into the kitchen, setting the dirty dishes on the counter before leaning against the wall. Her heart was pounding, her stomach in a knot, her skin clammy.
“You okay?” Jeff glanced her way.
“Just a bit lightheaded.” She waved her hand. “No need to worry.”
Gin stopped to stare at her. “Likely pregnant, if I had my guess.”
With difficulty, she held her tongue. Honestly, some days Gin seemed to go out of her way to be nasty. “No, I’m not.” She considered adding that her period ended three days ago but being snarky never worked with Gin. The woman was as tough as a week-old dinner roll.
The other woman sniffed. “Do you live alone? Or with a roommate?”
“Roxi’s my roommate. I told you that before. And what does she have to do with anything?”
“Maybe she gave you a stomach flu.” Gin shrugged and walked away.
Well, that had been a pointless exchange. At least it had distracted her enough that her breathing was beginning to settle. Kathy, the other waitress, was passing by and Lou snagged her arm.
“Kath, could you do me a favour?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Can you check out the man sitting in Gin’s section? I think he’s near the door.”
“Is he cute?” Kathy grinned.
“I don’t know. I…” She ran her hand nervously over her scar. Ryne had said the man in the limo who attacked her was dead and she’d believed him. He wouldn’t lie about a thing like that. So, the only other person who could be watching her was the mugger. Unless it was all in her head. Maybe th
e person had been staring at a poster on the wall and she’d just assumed… Oh good Lord, she was losing her mind! “Can you just look, please?”
“Okay. I’ll take a peek while I’m delivering the next order.”
While waiting for Kathy to return, she tried to convince herself it was just a case of a man looking at her. After all, men had done that all her life. She’d developed curves early and her boobs had always drawn attention. Plus, she wasn’t hard on the eyes…or at least she didn’t used to be. Plain brown hair, thick glasses and her scar had changed that.
The kitchen door swung open and Kathy reappeared making a fanning gesture with her hand. “I stopped by his table and wow! Dark hair with a beard. Muscles everywhere. Not exactly handsome but sexy in a back to nature kind of way, if you know what I mean.”
Jeff looked up from his work. “Who are you talking about?”
Kathy explained and Jeff peered out the serving window.
“I’ve never seen him in here before but look at those arms. I bet he could bench press a fridge!”
Kathy grinned. “He reminds me of a big teddy bear; the kind that’s easy going and takes forever to get a rise out of, but once you make him angry, you’re going to be sorry.”
“Or,” Jeff scrunched his face thinking, “one of those rugged guys on TV commercials for pickup trucks; denim, plaid shirts, hauling lumber down a country road.”
Gin sniffed. “You’re all a bunch of fools. He’s a customer, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m going to enjoy serving him.” Kathy licked her lips. “I’d do him in a minute if I didn’t already have a man. I mean, a guy that size has to be…well…you know.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. And if you think you’re serving him, think again.” Gin glared at her. “That’s my section, which means my customer and my tips.”
“Couldn’t we trade just this once?” Kathy pleaded.
“No.” Gin turned on her heel and left.
Lou ignored their bickering as a mental image began to form. Suddenly she was finding it hard to breathe again.
Veil of Lies Page 6