by Dana Corbit
He shook his head to dismiss the image now, as he had when he’d witnessed it. Some police detective he’d turned out to be. He’d been so entranced watching Pilar and her tiny charge that if Naomi hadn’t announced his presence, he might have gone right on watching without thinking once about the case.
Pilar was a distraction, all right, one that neither he nor the case could afford. He wished she would just tell him what she knew so he could steer clear of her until the investigation was complete. Even after that, if he had any sense.
No one who brought out such conflicting feelings in him could be good for his life—work or otherwise. Part of him wanted to lock her in a holding cell until she told him what he wanted to know. The other, more dangerous part of him wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right.
Pilar peered into the oval window in the Starlight Diner’s front door before she pulled it open. Sure enough, Anne had already commandeered their usual booth and was sitting on one of its bright blue vinyl seats studying a menu she should have known by heart. In fact, the names Pilar Estes, Anne Smith, Meg Talbot Kierney and Rachel Noble all should have been engraved on the table’s Formica top as many years as they’d been coming to the Starlight for Sunday brunch.
“Hey, Pilar,” Anne called as her golden blond head came up and she set aside the menu. She would order her usual double bacon cheeseburger and fries when the waitress came anyway, and, as usual, she wouldn’t pack an ounce on her slender frame.
“Hi.” Pilar slid past the chrome counter, the upholstered bar stools and the black-and-white stills of Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe, pausing only to salute a picture of James Dean from Giant before she reached the booth.
“Glad to see you didn’t forget to say hello to our Jimmy Dean,” Anne said, glancing past her friend to the glass front door. “You’re the first one here from the church crowd.” She said it with laughter in her voice that almost masked the hurt.
As she slid across the smooth vinyl that caught her skirt and twisted it, Pilar studied her friend. Sunday brunches had probably become strange for Anne these last few months. Before, she’d had Meg and Rachel to help her stake a claim on their regular table, with only Pilar arriving after church. Now Meg and her new husband, Jared, were members of Chestnut Grove, and Rachel had been attending services with her fiancé, Eli Cavanaugh, most often snuggling Rachel’s adopted baby sister, Gracie, between them.
Anne probably felt a little jealous over Meg and Rachel finding love. Thoughts like that even had crossed Pilar’s mind a time or two. But did Anne also feel resentful over their new church involvement? Did she wonder if she was missing something the rest of them had found?
“Good afternoon, ladies,” waitress Miranda Jones said as she carried a heavy food tray to a table at the opposite end of the diner. “Be right with you.”
“No rush. We’re still waiting.”
“I know,” Miranda said over her shoulder, the tight twist that held her dark brown hair bobbing with her nod. “Two more friends.”
Anne returned Pilar’s sad look when their gazes caught. They were still getting used to Miranda waiting on them, wearing a pink apron that matched Sandra Lange’s except for the missing script S at the shoulder.
Usually the diner owner made a point of waiting on “the Sunday four,” as she called them herself. Now their friend was battling breast cancer and had taken several weeks off while she underwent chemotherapy. Without closing her eyes, Pilar said another quick prayer for Sandra’s recovery.
“How’d you get here so fast, Miss Pilar?” Meg called as she pushed through the door, shoving her sunglasses into her curly red hair. “Did you sneak out before the youth minister’s benediction?”
“I heard every last word of Caleb Williams’s none-too-brief prayer, but then I didn’t have to stay to greet everyone with my handsome new husband, either.”
Meg chuckled at that, her pale blue eyes dancing with mirth. “Hey, you have to show off a good thing.”
Anne shook her head but smiled. “What’s Jared doing with the twins this afternoon?”
“Same thing he always does. He and Chance and Luke always share a ‘man’ lunch with peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches and cheese curls. But they always save room for ice cream.”
“As it should be,” Pilar said with a nod. “Jared is such a great guy, Meg.”
“If we’re listing the good ones, don’t forget Eli,” said Rachel as she entered the restaurant and the conversation at the same time. “Can you believe we’re getting married in less than three weeks? I keep thinking I’m forgetting some of the wedding details, but then I remember that God’s in control and everything will be all right.”
Pilar looked over her shoulder to confirm Rachel was still wearing her chestnut hair in a tight bun. Otherwise she would have been worried that someone was impersonating one of her best friends.
Snickers from the women sitting across from her suggested they’d noticed a change in their analytical friend, too. Love clearly agreed with her.
“What are you guys laughing at?” Rachel asked, though the smile never left her lips. She slipped into the remaining space in the booth.
“Not at, sweetie. With. We’re laughing with you,” Anne said as she continued to demonstrate.
Meg cleared her throat. “Speaking of great guys, isn’t Zach Fletcher investigating the abandoned-baby case?”
Pilar sucked in a breath and crossed her arms over her abdomen that had suddenly cramped. How had she forgotten, even for a short while—Gabriel’s mother, the ultrasound, the whole mess? It had just been so easy to get caught up in her friends’ happiness, even in Anne’s loneliness, when it allowed her to forget her own problems for a few minutes.
She had taken the time as a welcome reprieve after having tried to keep thoughts of the whole mess at bay during Reverend Fraser’s sermon on spiritual gifts. Church should have comforted her, but all the sights and sounds had only upset her more.
Families with small children had crowded the church’s pews, so sweet in their collective worship and so clear a reminder of what she might never have. Even Gabriel was there, sleeping in Naomi’s arms until he’d awakened with the realization that he hadn’t had a proper meal in a few hours. Pilar had wished she could have been the one attending to his needs then, but was comforted knowing she’d get the chance to see him later that afternoon.
By themselves, those distractions would have been enough to keep her from concentrating on the sermon, but Zach’s attention had pushed her right over the edge. Every time she’d glanced at him, he’d been watching, scrutinizing.
Not so long ago she would have given anything for Zach to see her, really see her, instead of just looking past, but today she’d wanted to escape his careful study. She didn’t like the way she felt as if he could see right through her, could see just how empty she was inside.
“May I take your order, please?” Miranda’s familiar voice filtered into Pilar’s consciousness.
Already four sweating glasses of ice water rested on the table on top of their paper place mats. When no one ordered, Pilar glanced at the women seated around her. Their questioning gazes were nearly as intense as Zach’s. Close, but nothing could match his.
Anne cleared her throat and turned to the waitress. “I’ll have a double bacon cheeseburger and fries.”
“Glad to see something around here hasn’t changed. That and Isaac in the kitchen,” Meg said. She waved at Isaac Tubman, the gruff but lovable cook behind the counter, before turning back to the waitress. “Hi, Miranda. How’s Daniel doing?”
“He keeps me in my running shoes.” The single mom grinned, her busy kindergartner clearly on her mind.
After everyone had ordered and Miranda had walked away, three pairs of eyes returned their attention to Pilar.
Rachel lifted a carefully shaped brow. “Spill, girlfriend.”
Spill. Did her friends have any idea how much she wanted to do just that? To unload and f
all on the support of three people she could always count on to catch her? But she just couldn’t. She couldn’t speak aloud the possibilities for Tuesday’s appointment. That would make them real.
“Give her a break, guys. She had enough interviews this week from Detective Fletcher,” Anne said, coming to her rescue. “Remember, it’s not every day when you discover a foundling on your way to work. If it were that easy to find babies, everyone would be doing it.”
Anne paused and smiled at Pilar. “Seriously, though, this was an awful shock for her.”
Pilar stalled by taking a sip of her ice water, waiting until she could find her voice. “It was a rough week.” This new week would be rougher, but she couldn’t make those words come.
Anne blew out a breath. “You can say that again, sister. It’s been hard for all of us at Tiny Blessings. The only one who isn’t showing strain is Kelly. She seems so unshakable.”
Meg rubbed her finger down the condensation on the water glass and then set it aside. “She would have to be as director of that agency. Can anything else bad happen there?”
“Can and probably will,” Rachel quipped.
Anne shook her head. “Thank you for your input, Miss Sunshine.”
Meg frowned. “It sure does seem as if Tiny Blessings is having more than its share of misfortune lately.”
“And bad publicity,” Anne added. “I had always heard there wasn’t such a thing, but believe me, there is.”
“I’m so sorry,” Meg said, lowering her head. “You know Jared is only doing his job.”
Pilar reached over and touched her hand. “Of course he is. He’s only reporting the news. You’ll want to tell him, though, that Kelly’s ready to give him that interview he’s been asking for.”
“Good. It might help relieve people’s minds. I feel bad about it, but as much as we love the twins, Jared and I would worry right now about recommending Tiny Blessings to other adoptive parents.”
It hurt her to hear her friend say that, but she still wanted to assuage Meg’s guilt. “Don’t worry. You’ll feel comfortable recommending it again soon. God has a plan here.”
Strange, though Pilar had believed her words as she’d spoken them, she suddenly felt no more certain of their truth than she was of a positive outcome for her ultrasound. What was wrong with her? When had the faith she’d always envisioned as a cement wall around her cracked at its foundation?
“Now that sounds like our Pilar,” Rachel said with a smile. “At first, I thought there might be something else wrong beyond that whole business about finding the baby.”
“Or it could have been about that cute detective,” Meg added. “You’ve always had a thing for Zach Fletcher.”
Pilar grinned. “Remind me why I ever told you that.”
“Because you tell us everything, and you know it,” Rachel chimed in.
She did know it. That’s why it was so hard to explain her hesitation in telling them about the sad possibilities weighing on her mind. She wanted to tell, needed it as much as she needed relief from this swirl of confusion.
Again she hesitated, this time long enough for the food to come and for the moment to pass. So she kept her problem bottled up inside where it could only fester until she was sure she would explode.
Before she knew it, they were sharing hugs all around and planning where to meet at the Labor Day barbecue. If only Monday didn’t have to be a holiday. If only she didn’t have to wait another day to know the answers to questions she’d never wanted to ask. If only she didn’t feel so alone in what had become one of the scariest periods of her life.
Chapter Five
So much for off duty, Zach thought as he trudged through Winchester Park Monday afternoon, peering at community members huddled around picnic tables and reclining on blankets. If not for his German shepherd, Rudy, coming along to beg for picnic leftovers and sniff other pooches, Zach could have forgotten even pretending he was enjoying his day off at Chestnut Grove’s community Labor Day picnic.
Even with his seventy-pound prop, this still felt like just another day at the office. He was too keyed up to even smile at the squeals of children playing on the wooden play structure and the crack of a base hit on the brand-new baseball diamond. Enjoying watching paddleboat races on the man-made lake or a game of horseshoes seemed impossible when he was busy studying all of his friends and neighbors with suspicion.
“Hold on, buddy,” he told Rudy as the dog strained against his leash. “They’re not going to give you their lunch.”
The dog only looked up at him and whined before pulling again.
Zach held tight on the leash until his “puppy” heeled. “You’ve got it easy. No worries. Just a bowl of kibble and a squirrel to chase, and you’re good.”
He, on the other hand, couldn’t turn off the details of the case, even for enough time to enjoy some of the Starlight’s locally famous fried chicken in his bachelor picnic lunch. Five days had passed since Gabriel had been discovered, and the department wasn’t any closer to finding the infant’s mother.
The situation was too serious for him to worry about betraying his friends by studying them as possible witnesses in his case. This was a small town. Baby Gabriel didn’t just fall out of the sky to show up on Tiny Blessings’ doorstep. Someone had to have seen something, had to know something. What he had to figure out was who wasn’t telling and why.
Lord, please lead me to the answers in this case. Show me the way to locate this child’s mother. Amen.
Obviously his skills for surreptitious observation while praying open-eyed were out of whack because the Frasers’ oldest, Jonah, waved and shuffled over. The ex-marine’s limp had either become less pronounced or Zach had just become used to it in the nine months since Jonah had returned to Chestnut Grove with a Purple Heart and an injury he’d never fully explained.
When he reached the dog, Jonah bent over to ruffle his fur but didn’t crouch down. “How’s our Rudy doin’?”
He stood to face Zach. “Hey, Detective, could we have picked a better day for a picnic?”
Zach gripped Jonah’s hand, already roughened by a summer’s worth of carpentry work. “Yes, this one came made to order.”
“So now I know what Dad was praying for in his office last night.”
Unconsciously, Jonah shifted his weight off his injured leg, making Zach wonder just how much pain the younger man was in. The side of Zach’s mouth pulled up at the thought, though Jonah missed the expression as he watched Jared Kierney playing chase with his twins. Marines weren’t exactly known for crying over little aches and pains. Or for their candidness about risky missions. Zach shrugged, reserving that mystery for another day.
“Is Ben keeping you busy at Cavanaugh Construction?”
“Can’t complain.”
The minister’s son could probably complain about a lot of things over his life’s newest detour, but Zach didn’t mention it as Jonah waved and went in search of his family.
Continuing past a smattering of picnic tables, Zach scanned the crowd again. What was he looking for, really? Did he expect someone to stare straight at him and flash a sign that read, “I know something”? Some people were good at keeping their secrets, some better than others. And though secrets didn’t necessarily beget secrets, they were at least a place to start.
He had to smile when the first people his gaze landed on were Beatrice and Charles Noble, who were pushing their adopted daughter, Gracie, in her stroller. Beatrice waved and pointed down at her toddler, whose eyes were wide with excitement. If that family wasn’t an open book, then Zach wouldn’t recognize one if he saw it.
The couple had gained a reputation as being a bit eccentric for Beatrice’s vegan diet and macrobiotic cooking, and for Charles’s penchant for wearing the family’s Scottish kilt to special events, but the two were honest and caring. Besides founding the charitable Noble Foundation and raising their adult daughter, Rachel, who now ran it, they’d opened their hearts and home to Gracie, a child
born with cerebral palsy but who was making amazing progress under their care.
He looked past the Noble family to the water where Miranda Jones and her lifejacket-clad son were laughing and turning their paddleboat in a circle. Now there was someone with a secret. At least she had been vague about her past and seemed to prefer to let people believe her life had begun two years before, when she’d appeared in Chestnut Grove. Again a mystery for another day.
Ben Cavanaugh caught his attention then, as the young widower kicked a soccer ball with his own adopted daughter, Olivia. Ben was a part of a secret, all right, but he was a reluctant participant in the intrigue and an even more reluctant witness.
When Zach had spoken to him about his own birth records being among the falsified documents found at Tiny Blessings, Ben had said he was all for letting sleeping dogs lie.
Unfortunately, Zach didn’t have the luxury of being able to do that. But he also couldn’t focus on that mystery, buried for thirty years, until he solved the one that had been around for just a few days and likely had a more critical deadline.
Finally giving up on his observation plan, Zach let Rudy drag him toward the main picnic structure, where families were staking out their spots. In the middle, on a colorful quilt, he saw the olive-skinned and black-haired family that he sensed he’d been looking for all along. Only the Estes family was one short, as Pilar wasn’t with her parents, Rita and Salvador, and her brother, Ramon.
As soon as their gazes met, spry Rita popped up and waved him over. “Would you like to join us for some lunch, Zach? We have pollo habichuelas colorados.”
“That’s red beans with chicken. Red beans are a Puerto Rican specialty.” Ramon offered only the translation instead of reinforcing his mother’s invitation.
“Yes, please join us,” soft-spoken Salvador chimed.
“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I already have some of Isaac Tubman’s fried chicken waiting for me.”
Zach wasn’t surprised by Ramon’s closed-lipped smile over his decision. Pilar’s older brother had never been unkind, but hadn’t been especially friendly during the two years they’d attended church together.