by Kathy Harris
“Really? He seems to have become a regular around here.” Jaycee’s mouth twisted into a cat-like grin. “It’s that detective who was here yesterday. I think he’s infatuated with you, girlfriend.”
“He is not!” Danni snapped back. But, as an afterthought, she took the time to check her face in her office mirror before sauntering out to the dining room. She needed to look presentable out on the floor anyway. Right?
She approached Caleb Samuels’s table, giving her jacket a final tug just before he looked up.
“Hi . . .” His greeting faded into the back of his throat. “I’m here on official business again.” He rose from his seat to pull out her chair.
“Okay.” She took a seat. Were those butterflies in her stomach? No. She was hungry. She hadn’t taken time for breakfast this morning. “How about coffee . . . or something to eat?”
“Maybe in a while, but let’s talk first.” He reclaimed his chair.
Danni searched his face for a clue as to the nature of his visit. “So . . . this will be a lengthy discussion?”
“It may take a while. Do you have time?” He stumbled over the last sentence.
A chuckle escaped her lips. “Well, I’m guessing I don’t have a choice, Agent Samuels, considering you’re on official business, and I’m the suspect in a criminal case.”
“Call me Caleb.” He hesitated. “And let me say off the record, you’re not really a suspect. At least, not in my opinion.” He looked around the room and then back to her. “But you have managed to land yourself in a position that’s dead center of a major drug trafficking operation.”
“Ouch.” She cringed. “Not a good choice of words. I prefer to remain alive. I’m thinking I definitely need coffee before we talk.”
“Make that two.”
Was he blushing?
“You’re the most interesting TBI agent I’ve ever met.” Her turn to blush.
He smiled. “How many others do you know?”
She stood. “Well, actually, none . . . I’ll get the coffee.”
A few minutes later, with a pen and pencil in her hand, Danni followed one of her servers carrying a tray to the table. “Thanks, Meg. That’s all we need.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The server placed the coffee and pastries in front of them and started to leave.
“Wait.” Caleb reached into his pocket and pulled out two bills. He held the money out to the server. “Just because I’m a guest, doesn’t mean I don’t tip.”
“Thank you!” The server grabbed the cash and turned on her heels to rush away.
“Oh, no . . .” Danni deadpanned.
Caleb frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. It’s just that now you’re also the nicest TBI agent I know.”
His shoulders relaxed. “I realize how hard it is to make a living in her business.”
“You’re right. Thank you for doing that.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And I’d like to share something with you before we talk business.”
“Okay.” He stirred his coffee.
“This isn’t easy to say, but my chef thinks she’s on to you.”
He refocused on her, concern in his expression. “You didn’t tell her about the investigation?”
“No . . . no. It’s not that.” She waved off the thought. “It’s just that, well . . . she saw you in the restaurant yesterday. And . . . how do I say this delicately? She thinks you’re here because you have a crush on me. How funny is that?”
The muscles in his jaws twitched. “You’re right. As if that was even possible.”
He said it so softly, Danni wasn’t certain she was supposed to hear the last sentence, but it confirmed what she had thought. The last thing he wanted was to fraternize with the girlfriend of a suspect in a major case.
No. This was all business. Just like he had said. Jaycee had it all wrong. “We both realize it’s not, but I thought you might like to know that our secret is safe. She has no idea about your investigation.”
“Good.” He avoided her eyes. “So let me tell you why I’m here. In fact, I need to talk to her.”
“Oh? What about?”
Caleb looked over her shoulder. “Is she here now?”
“Yes.” Danni nodded.
“I had a meeting with my boss yesterday, and we decided that since Ms. Alexander is the only person who has seen Ramirez, we need to have her help us with a sketch.”
“So it’s like I thought. You know more about Valentino Ramirez than you’re telling me, don’t you?”
“Some.” He made eye contact. “But I’m not at liberty to talk about it.”
Danni squirmed in her seat. “But you’re going to tell Jaycee about the investigation you’re doing of Rob?” She would never hear the end of this from her friend. “She already doesn’t like him.”
Caleb’s interest piqued. “Really? And why is that?”
Danni could feel the heat rise to her face again. She had said too much. That’s what she got for feeling comfortable with Caleb Samuels. Reminder to self: Talk less and listen more.
“She never has. Actually, I think the feeling is mutual. You know, water and oil. They’re just clashing personalities.” Danni did her best to stop there, but her mouth stayed activated even when her brain told it to shut down. “And she thinks he’s shallow, selfish, and narcissistic.”
The corners of Caleb’s lips twitched, as though he were trying to hide his amusement.
“You agree with her, don’t you?”
He hesitated.
“That’s really none of my business. And I am here on business, remember?” He smiled and gulped his coffee.
“Agent Samuels, I’m not sure why I feel so comfortable with you—maybe that’s part of your TBI training—or just my vulnerability right now. And, yes, I do feel vulnerable because there’s so much happening around me that I don’t understand. Quite frankly it scares me.” Why am I rambling? Hush, Danni! “I’m going to shut up now.”
“May I interrupt your monologue?”
“Please.”
“First of all, it’s my Southern charm. Women can’t resist it.” He grinned, and then his face grew serious. “Secondly, and more importantly, you can trust me. I meant that when I said it yesterday.” He waited for her to digest the thought. “Keep trusting me. I’m going to get you through this.”
She nodded. For some inexplicable reason, she believed him.
“And to answer your first question, here’s what we’re going to tell your coworker . . .”
Caleb went on to explain that he would not mention Rob in his conversation with Jaycee. He would let her know that he was investigating a major drug operation and that he had learned about Ramirez’s visit through Danni. Because Jaycee was the only one who could identify him, and that information was crucial to his case, he needed to talk with her.
Unfortunately, Jaycee’s well-being would now be in jeopardy, just like her own. It didn’t seem fair that her friend had been drawn into this mess. But she had been the moment she met Valentino Ramirez.
What had happened to their ordinary lives?
Danni wished they could go back to the days when their biggest worry had been catering an event for the governor. She silently prayed God would help them get through this . . . alive.
Caleb wanted to kick himself. Why had he addressed out loud what he shouldn’t have been thinking? He didn’t need—or want—a relationship with anyone, much less a confidential informant. A very attractive confidential informant, nonetheless.
He finished off his coffee and made a few notes while waiting for Danni to bring Jaycee Alexander to the table. Hopefully they could keep the conversation brief. The less she knew, the better. For her, as well as for the case.
Ten minutes later, Danni made the introductions.
“Agent Samuels, I’d like you to meet Amoré’s executive chef, and the best chef in Nashville, Jaycee Alexander.”
Jaycee extended her hand and smiled, “Nice to finally meet you.
” She gave a sideways look to Danni, who immediately blushed.
“Ms. Alexander, if your food is as good as your coffee, it’s top-notch.” Caleb pulled out a chair.
“Thank you! Lunch is my treat any time you want to try it. But please call me Jaycee.” She lowered herself into the chair he offered.
It was obvious this woman wasn’t easily rattled. Caleb liked that. Not to mention that she agreed with his assessment of Robert Evans. Danielle Kemp had found a good friend. One she might need in the difficult times ahead.
“I’ll take you up on that, Jaycee. And feel free to call me Caleb.” He held a chair for Danni and then settled into his own across the table. “In the meantime, I need your help.”
The chef nodded.
“I’m not sure what Danielle has told you.” He acknowledged Danni who sat quietly, her hands in her lap.
Jaycee shook her head. “Not much.”
He gave the chef his full attention. “I work for the drug enforcement division of the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. We have reason to believe a major player in narcotics trafficking may have come into your restaurant last week, and I understand you met him. I’m hoping you will remember a few things about him. His name is Valentino Ramirez.”
The chef looked to Danni and then back to him. Her eyes widened. “Well, yes. He did. Or at least a man by that name was here.” She turned to Danni again. “And he asked for Danni.”
“That’s what I was told.” Caleb cleared his throat. “The TBI is asking for your help. We have no visual record on file for Ramirez. You’re the only known person purported to have seen him.”
Jaycee gasped. Danni reached out to her, laying her hand on her friend’s arm. Both women paled.
“Do you remember enough about what he looks like to work with a sketch artist? We’d like to have a composite.”
“Yes, I think so, Agent Samuels. But I have a question.”
“I’ll do my best to answer it,” Caleb said. “But I will tell you now that I’m not at liberty to talk a lot about this case.”
“I—I understand.” Jaycee nodded. “I’m just wondering, though. And I’m sorry if I’m asking more than you can tell me. Does this have anything to do with the recent death of one of our employees?”
Caleb hesitated before answering. He wasn’t certain how Danni would respond to his conjecture. “We don’t know for sure,” he finally said. “We’re well aware of Mr. Ryan’s death, but we haven’t yet connected the dots.”
“I see,” Jaycee nodded again. “I’d be more than happy to help you. And I’m sure Danni will be too.” She acknowledged her coworker who was sitting beside her with a terrified look on her face. Danni had both hands on the table now, one clasped around the other, no doubt trying to keep them from shaking.
Caleb wanted to reach out to her but knew he couldn’t.
“As you know, I’ve already been talking to Ms. Kemp. And she has been very helpful. She volunteered the information about Ramirez.”
Danni remained silent, but Jaycee ventured another question. “Just so I understand then. If Danni hadn’t reported Ramirez, if I hadn’t seen him, the TBI wouldn’t have known he was in town?”
“Yes, I’m afraid that’s true. We weren’t aware of his presence in town, as troubling as that may be.”
The two women looked at each other, and the expression on Danielle Kemp’s face turned to panic.
“How did this happen?” Jaycee asked as Danni took a seat at her desk.
“Jay, I don’t understand everything that’s going on.” Danni reminded herself to tell her friend as little as possible. “I have suspicions, but they’re just that. Even Agent Samuels said the TBI isn’t sure.”
“That’s reassuring, isn’t it?” Jaycee plopped into a chair.
“I agree. But if it makes you feel better, I have confidence in Caleb Samuels.”
Jaycee stared at her.
“I can’t tell you why. Not because I won’t, but because I don’t really know. He just seems to be a man who can take care of himself. And us.”
Jaycee focused on her hands, which were gathered in her lap. She shook her head. “I hope you’re right, my friend, because all of this is scaring the dishwater out of me.”
Leave it to Jaycee to add levity to a frightening situation.
CHAPTER 21
The following Sunday – April 7
From a distance Danni recognized Jaycee waiting at the front doors of the church. She quickened her pace as she made her way across the parking lot to join her friend.
Seeing all of the cars parked in front of the church reminded her of the many Sundays and Wednesday nights she and Chloe had attended their little community church with their dad. She wondered now why she had stayed away for so long.
Jaycee gave her a hug when she reached the top landing. “I wasn’t sure if you’d really be here,” she teased with a bright smile on her face.
“Do I look okay?” Danni straightened her skirt and smoothed her jacket.
“You look great. Let’s go inside before the service begins. I don’t want to miss the music.”
Jaycee led her to a seat, three rows from the back.
“Do you always sit here?” Danni asked. “Or are you trying to hide your heathen friend?”
Jaycee stifled a laugh. “Yes . . . and no! Of course, I always sit here.” She handed Danni a worship guide and a songbook. “Here, you may need these.”
Danni gave her an I-have-been-to-church-before look and harrumphed, and then she settled comfortably into the padded pew. She looked around the large auditorium with its twenty-or thirty-foot ceilings held in place with massive wooden beams. Each arched stained-glass window along the sidewalls had been pieced together in a random mosaic pattern reminiscent of the European cathedrals Danni had seen on her senior class trip.
It could be a beautiful setting for a wedding.
Casting her gaze to the floor, she noted the neutral beige carpet. She could picture her bridesmaids—Jaycee, Chloe, and an old friend from college—wearing simple turquoise chiffon halter dresses as they walked down the aisle carrying white lilies. She would be following in an off-white, dropped waist gown with a wrapped bodice. Her veil would stream from a beaded tiara on top of her head, and—
Jaycee punched Danni and whispered, “Stand up for the prelude.”
Within seconds dozens of choir members, wearing sapphire blue robes topped with gold-colored stoles, filed into the loft from doors on either side of the stage. Danni stood in awe of the pageantry, bracing herself with her hands on the back of the pickled oak-colored pew in front of her.
The pipe organ blared a gothic intro that emerged into a hymn she had sung for years in her hometown church in Iowa. When the congregation began to sing the words to “How Great Thou Art,” Danni averted her eyes to the ceiling. The beauty of this grand chamber almost took away her breath.
The light mahogany beams running across the ceiling, parallel to the choir loft, began at the front of the church and continued all the way to the vestibule behind her. The narrow, arched windows along each wall filtered a kaleidoscope of colors onto rows of benches filled with worshippers, who were standing to worship with the choir. Danni marveled at the intricacy and detail of the voices as they blended together and remembered the vow she had taken as a young girl to follow her faith no matter the cost.
When had she let that slip away?
A few minutes later, the choir director led the congregation in prayer and asked everyone to take a seat and turn to the first song in their program. Jaycee opened her hymnal and began to sing, an enraptured look on her face.
Yes, this church was perfect for a wedding. Now, if only she was as certain about the groom.
After the service, Jaycee invited Danni to lunch, but she declined so she could take Sophie to the park for a run. Hurrying back to her condo, she changed into shorts and a T-shirt while Sophie romped through the house in anticipation. As soon as Danni grabbed the leash, the big dog pounc
ed, landing at Danni’s feet with a bow.
“We’re going to have fun, Soph.” Danni snapped the leash onto the Newfie’s collar. “I’m taking you to the big park today.”
Within ten minutes Danni had secured the Newfoundland in the rear cargo area of her Escape. Then, buckling herself in, she rolled down her windows and opened the sunroof. It was a beautiful spring afternoon for driving the short distance to Centennial Park. After their run, they would eat lunch on the patio of M. L. Rose, a dog-friendly establishment on Charlotte Pike. It was tempting to bypass their run and head straight to lunch, but a three-mile jog around Centennial Park would give her a chance to clear her head. And maybe do some soul-searching about church today, as well as the events of the last few weeks.
God had brought her here, to Nashville, for a purpose. She was sure of that. But somehow in the messiness, and the busyness, of everyday life she had managed to leave Him out of her decisions.
She was now facing one of the biggest decisions she would ever have to make. She needed to pray about it. Isn’t that what her dad had told her less than two weeks ago?
Help me, God.
She exhaled the words, and then slammed on her brakes to avoid a car merging on the right from 25th Avenue. The driver of the other vehicle honked his horn and sped away. Danni regained her composure, looked twice—and then one more time—to be sure there was no other oncoming traffic before easing into the far right lane. A few seconds later she turned right into the West End Avenue entrance of the park.
That had been close. Her heart still palpitated in her chest. She watched carefully as she navigated between parked cars and pedestrians, finally wedging her Escape into a small parking spot on the west side of the Parthenon.
When Danni opened the door, Sophie bounded from the car, leaping with enthusiasm.
“Let’s go, Soph.”
Following a few minutes of walking to warm up their muscles, Danni signaled the dog it was time to run. Sophie took off in a slow lope, increasing to full speed as they approached the front of the giant pavilion. From there, they took a right to continue their run around the park’s perimeter.