by Sara Daniel
The steady stream of customers throughout the morning kept her appraised of Toby and Matt’s efforts to secure the bike rack in its original position using every reinforcement and theft deterrent technique imaginable. Naturally, the speculation also centered on who could have done such a thing.
“Jake needs to lose weight. Maybe he thought padlocking the grocery store would help keep him from the food,” the town mechanic suggested with a smirk.
“Oh now, Fred, didn’t your mother ever tell you if you couldn’t say something nice not to say anything at all?” Becca chastised the man more than twice her age.
“Aw Becca, lighten up. You know I was joking.”
“Anyway, he’s surrounded by food in the convenience store,” Rochelle pointed out, tossing a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter onto the belt. “Jake’s motive would have to be to keep people from shopping at the grocery store so they’d have to buy from him, and he’s perfectly happy coexisting with the store.”
“I bet one of those teens Larry saw last night did it,” Harriet said, tapping her foot as she waited.
“If so, we can eliminate Toby as a suspect,” Agatha put in from further down the line. “He knows he’d have to fix the damage on any prank he tries to pull off.”
Toby’s name coming up gave her a new headache to worry about, leaving her almost grateful when Simon and Pauline cornered her in the break room. They wanted to discuss what had now been christened the Creative Cocoa Contest.
She dutifully agreed to talk up the event with customers and to make sure she used the correct coupon code for everyone buying ingredients for the contest. She didn’t have a problem working up a couple cutesy cocoa flavors to mix in front of an audience on Tuesday night either.
Sure, she’d much rather use the time to brainstorm ways she could modify the morning workout routine so Agatha could keep up with the rest of the group without slowing the intensity for the younger set. Fitness wasn’t just her hobby. It was her passion. As a teen, she’d had dreams of running an international fitness company, but as an adult, the personal focus of her tiny classes suited her much better. She hoped to be able to find temporary work while she traveled by putting together small classes and helping others with their fitness goals.
Even while she still lived in town, she’d have liked to add more classes, but Toby hated when she took over the living room in the evenings for a bunch of—according to his teenage opinion—old ladies in workout gear, so she’d agreed only to do mornings. Despite a demand for a later morning class, she opened for work so early each day and couldn’t give up her paycheck at the grocery store to tap into it.
The static on Simon’s walkie-talkie brought her back to the present. “Officer O’Malley is here. He wants to ask you and Becca a few questions,” Ingrid, the assistant cashier, radioed in.
“Send him to us,” Simon said.
Pauline rose to her feet. “I need to get back to the diner. Thank you both for helping make this contest a success. Becca, remember what we talked about this morning.”
“Uh—” Oh, no. She refused to entertain Pauline’s theory of passion fueling drama and the possibility a spark might still exist between her and Connor.
“Try to persuade Connor into entering the cocoa contest. Think how great it would be if someone with a ‘C’ name won: Connor’s Creative Cocoa.”
“Oh, that. Sure.”
“We could hang giant banners in the diner and the grocery store. You could even spread rumors about what his secret ingredients are. After all, since you check him out of the store, you’d know, right?”
Becca stared at her, praying Pauline was joking. After successfully avoiding him and any association of their names for two years, suddenly she couldn’t take a deep breath without Connor’s name creeping into a conversation or him personally joining in. And she had no idea how to go back to the way things were a mere twenty-four hours ago.
Connor entered the room, greeting everyone as Pauline said her good-byes. “I wanted to get statements from each of you, especially Becca as the first person on the scene. Then I’ll ask you to stop by the station in a day or two to sign a typed copy, and I’ll file them in my report.”
“Do you know who did it yet?” Simon asked, drumming his fingernails on the chipped fake wood tabletop.
“I’m still making observations and gathering facts. Considering the harmless nature of the incident, there’s no reason to rush to charge anyone.”
Simon and Becca gave their statements, but neither of them could say much. Simon had been later to the scene than half the town, and Connor had been at Becca’s side as she’d made her discovery.
As Connor closed his notebook, Simon pointed to his watch, indicating the end of Becca’s break. Then Ingrid came on the walkie-talkie again, and he hurried out to help her include a coupon in a customer’s total.
Becca balled up her sandwich baggie and tossed it in the garbage. Before she left, she wanted to say something to Connor to return them to the closeness they’d shared earlier this morning and hopefully gauge if he was still stewing over Dennis’s deception.
“Becca, one more thing,” Connor said.
She smiled, his deep voice warming her with anticipation.
“Toby was one of the kids hanging out in the park last night. You might want to ask him what he knows.”
Her heart sank, and she had only herself to blame. What was she doing entertaining romantic fantasies about this man she knew better than to trust a second time? Worse, as her brother’s mentor, Connor should be helping alleviate her worries over Toby, not adding to them. “Are you accusing him? I thought you were on my side.”
“I’m not taking sides or making accusations. I’m stating the facts. Other than violating curfew and park hours, no one did anything wrong. I made it quite clear to all the kids—before Larry showed up to add his two cents worth—I don’t tolerate criminal behavior in my town.”
Toby should have known better, even without the lecture. He should have been taught better at home. What had her parents been thinking, her mother eliciting a deathbed promise to care for Toby and her father carelessly transferring his guardianship to her when she’d only been an eighteen-year-old kid herself who still wanted to break curfew and hang out in the park?
“I’ll talk to him,” she promised, the responsibility pushing against her chest, shoving away the free and easy future she’d thought so close.
By the time Becca clocked out, the continuous speculation about the teens in the park made her want to scream. Did parents feel guilt and despair they’d somehow screwed up, the way she did? She stepped out of the building, looking forward to a brisk walk home to clear her mind. Then a fat raindrop fell from the sky, directly into her eye, followed immediately by another.
“Get in.” Connor idled on the side of the road, probably waiting for her, since he’d taken her car this morning.
She wanted to be angry and pin her frustrations on him, but she’d seen firsthand that his words had a better effect on Toby than her own. Connor hadn’t done anything wrong, and his job trumped his role as a mentor. She slid onto the passenger seat, her heart tapping a double-time beat in his presence. “Thanks.”
He set the vehicle in motion, and they rode in silence for a moment before he said, “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”
“For?” He’d already apologized for not believing her in high school. Maybe he’d discovered the identity of the real bike rack vandal and felt bad about implicating Toby. She resolved to be gracious, no matter which direction his words led.
“For last night with the dog.”
“The dog? You mean Fetch? You’re not responsible for the actions of someone else’s dog.”
“For my own actions,” he corrected. “I’m trained not to overreact or lose my cool, but I did. You have to be appalled at the way I, well, pretty much mauled you.”
“Are you kidding? You provided the most action I’ve gotten in months. I found it exciting.” As so
on as the words flew from her mouth, Becca wanted to grab the embarrassing admission back.
His green eyes rounded, and he cleared his throat. “Good to hear. I mean good you’re not offended. Not good you don’t get any action, of course.” He didn’t laugh out loud, but his eyes danced with amusement.
“I didn’t mean sex action.” Her cheeks burned. “I meant something actually happened in this town, and I loved being part of it.” She dug herself into a deeper hole with every word. She’d never been so glad to see her house as when he pulled to a stop. “Wait here, and I’ll bring out your jacket.”
“That’s okay. You can keep—”
“No, I’ll get it,” she insisted. “I’ve already kept one jacket too many of yours.”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated with the passenger door half open, raindrops falling on her arm. She’d assumed he remembered, or she wouldn’t have mentioned it at all. “Your letterman jacket. You never wondered or cared what happened to it?”
“I wondered,” he said softly. “Do you ever wear it?”
“Of course not.” Amidst the awful rumors, she couldn’t imagine how much more she’d have been eviscerated if she paraded around wearing Connor’s jacket.
“Do you still have it, or did you get rid of it?”
“It’s been so long I don’t remember.” In truth, she could have retrieved it as easily as the jacket she’d borrowed yesterday, but she had enough pride not to admit so.
“Well, if you find it, I assume it has more sentimental value to me than you at this point, so I’ll take it back.”
“Of course.” Not wanting to analyze why she hated the idea, she ran inside and grabbed the jacket she hadn’t formed an attachment to, then dashed out, nearly tripping down the wet front steps in her haste.
Connor rolled down his window and accepted the coat. “Careful. If you fall, I’ll have to get out of the car and check you for injuries and we’ll repeat the cycle.”
“I’ll be careful,” Becca promised. “I’m not repeating any cycle with you.”
His teasing smile faded away, and shadows clouded his no longer laughing eyes. “Wise choice.”
Chapter Three
Becca hesitated in the doorway of Toby’s room then knocked forcefully, so he could hear her over the music he always played too loudly through his earbuds.
He didn’t reply, so she continued knocking, pushing the door open slowly. He sat cross-legged on his unmade bed, fingers flying over the screen of his phone as he texted with a rapidity she matched on the cash register but couldn’t quite transfer to handheld electronics.
He finally noticed her, scowled, and pulled out one earbud. “You’re supposed to knock first. What if I’d been changing clothes?”
“I did knock, and you’ve already changed and showered from your work day. Did you get the bike rack put where it should be?”
“What? Did the town gossips stop delivering updates to the checkout line?”
She resisted rolling her eyes. She’d learned from experience that matching his sarcasm with her own became a downward spiral impossible to pull out of. “I’d like to hear about your day. Would you rather tell me now or over dinner?”
“I’m eating at Otto’s house,” he said, referencing Rochelle’s son.
“Great. Then we’ll talk now. First off, avoid the park after sunset. That’s when it closes, you know.”
“Did Officer O’Malley snitch on me?”
“If he has anything to snitch, I’d like to hear it from you first,” Becca shot back.
“Nothing to tell.” He didn’t meet her eyes. “I got in five hours working for Matt today without skipping school. I made almost as much money as you did.”
“I’m happy with whatever you make, as long as you understand skipping school isn’t an option.” His GPA already dangerously low, he needed every point to keep his conditional college acceptance. She resisted harping on it, knowing the reminder would push him away. “Are you trying to save up for something special for when you go away to school?”
“I’m not going away. I already have a job here.” Toby stretched out his legs and stood.
“You can always return after you have your degree if you decide to,” Becca pointed out. “Don’t forget to fill out your dorm preference and mail your acceptance form by the deadline, so they don’t have any reason to change their mind and refuse you.”
“Don’t confuse what you want with what I want.” He brushed by her through the doorway. A moment later she heard the front door slam.
Becca leaned her head against the empty doorframe. Eleven years between their ages made her too young to be his parent and too old to be his friend. But she was the only family he had.
She sat at her computer and attempted to write a post for her exercise blog, which usually calmed her. But after an hour she gave up and shut down the machine. Since it was Saturday evening, she could depend on a crowd of locals to descend on the diner and welcome her to their table.
At least then she wouldn’t sit at home feeling envious of her baby brother’s social life.
Connor would likely swing by at some point. Her body warmed at the thought. After avoiding each other for so long, they’d begun developing a camaraderie devoid of the antagonism she’d stewed over since high school. If fact, it felt as if they could pick up where they left off with little effort.
As if his turning his back on her when she needed him the most didn’t matter at all. As if his breach of trust could be brushed aside as if it had never happened. No, she had more fortitude. She wouldn’t let anyone walk all over her.
Instead of visiting the diner, she’d stay home and plan for the types of men she’d meet on her travels—men who weren’t tied to the very town she’d been waiting her whole life to leave.
…
By the time Connor entered the diner on Tuesday after his early evening patrol, the restaurant was packed. He pulled out the last empty chair across from Zelda Amos.
“Thanks for saving me a seat,” he whispered, as Pauline gave instructions to the contestants lined up behind the counter.
“I need someone to help me keep an eye on my trouble-making neighbor,” Zelda said.
Connor hid his smile behind a cough, but when he glanced at the counter again, Becca eyed him suspiciously.
Pauline surveyed her group of victims one more time, narrowing in on the slackers. “Where are your ingredients, Matt?”
“I’m sharing with Veronica.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“You didn’t bring your own?” Pauline glared at him as if he’d attempted to cheat.
“Nope. I violated the rules, and I completely understand if you have to disqualify me and I can’t participate,” Matt said hopefully.
Connor admired his plan.
Without responding, Pauline turned to Larry. “You planned to share with Harriet?”
He nodded, and she frowned.
“And you two are sharing also?” she asked Wilbur and Agatha. At their nod, she suddenly brightened and clapped her hands together. “Okay, new rules. We’re going to make this a Couple’s Creative Cocoa Contest, four Cs instead of three. Imagine a newlywed cooking reality show.”
Even Larry looked like he had second thoughts about participating.
“Becca, find yourself a partner, honey,” Pauline said.
“I’m representing the grocery store, not part of a couple. I’ll work alone.”
“Nope, we have to keep it fair. Besides, I think I’ll restructure everything into couples’ challenges.”
Becca sighed, looking as if she wished she were anywhere but here. He didn’t blame her. She scanned the room, quickly bypassing him and settling on her manager. “Simon, the store needs you front and center.”
“Gotta go.” Simon leaped to his feet, pressing his phone to his ear. “Urgent call from my brother. You stay in the contest, Becca. The whole grocery store is pulling for you.” He rushed out the front door in a
move that might have been convincing if he hadn’t been holding his phone upside down.
“Connor, you can fill in,” Wilbur called.
Becca’s gaze shot to Connor. However far they’d come in the past couple days, her panicked expression told him she would have hit up every person in the room before partnering with him.
The knowledge made him want to accept Wilbur’s suggestion just to annoy Becca, but he needed to stay away. He’d acquired too much baggage in the past decade and had no intention of contaminating her life. “Sorry, I’m on duty.”
“Patrol from the counter,” Wilbur said. “You can see everyone in the room at once. We won’t hold it against you if you have to leave for an emergency.”
Holding court complimented Larry’s style, not his. He liked to blend into the background to make sure things ran smoothly, not take center stage.
“Buck up,” Zelda urged him from across the table. “The lady’s counting on you.”
Like hell she was. He’d given up that honor and responsibility years ago. All the same, he refused to turn her down publicly and embarrass her in front of everyone like her boss had, the way he’d once very publicly turned his back on her and let her suffer the humiliation alone.
To his surprise, Becca left her place behind the counter and walked toward him. She leaned her hands on the table and whispered so only he could hear. “This is your chance to show you’re just as involved in the town as Larry. Take my place and find yourself a partner you want to work with. I know the contest shouldn’t play into your job, but Wilbur and Agatha will notice.”
Her warm breath in his ear made concentrating on her words impossible. He’d always been physically aware of Becca, but now she seemed to have tapped into his needs and wanted to help him achieve them. No, she’d always been extra sweet and thoughtful. She hadn’t been the one who changed. The things he’d seen and done in the military and as a city cop had changed him—and not for the better.