AM13 - Alice: Bride of Rhode Island

by Anna J. Stewart

“You may,” Holly said, caught off guard by the girl’s vocabulary. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  “Mom said she wanted to talk to you first. I need to get my things. Nice to meet you, Holly.” She scrambled to her booth and snatched up the worn Proton Patrol backpack she’d lugged in. Something told Holly a new bond had been formed before Charlie and Simon even spoke.

  Holly busied herself with the other orders, keeping one eye on streamlined and unflappable Paige as she worked the counter, including refilling Simon’s soda for him before she tweaked her daughter’s nose. Whatever bills and money Paige collected she left lined up on the counter beside the register for Holly to ring through.

  Instead of interrupting or, heaven forbid, stopping Paige’s jaw-dropping momentum, Holly ducked into the kitchen. “Ursula? You see this?”

  “Dynamo, that one.” Ursula flipped a huge portion of fresh onions she kept on the grill for her signature patty melts. “Hasn’t gotten one order wrong yet and seems to have a permanent smile on her face.” Ursula poked her spatula at Holly. “I remember when you came to work like that.”

  So did Holly. She missed those carefree days. “Do you ever think things are too good to be true?” Whatever other shoe was going to drop, Holly hoped she wasn’t in the vicinity.

  “Take them while you can. If you don’t hire her, I will.”

  “We don’t know anything about her,” Holly whispered as Paige popped up to the window and attached two new orders to the spinning wheel.

  “Paige Cooper.” Paige stuck her hand through and Holly had no choice but to shake it. The young woman reminded Holly of a perky old-fashioned carhop. The only things missing were a paper hat and roller skates. “Charlie and I hit town this afternoon. Staying at the Chrysalis Motel out near the highway. Consider this an audition?”

  “Sure.” Holly didn’t know what else to say. There wasn’t anything else to say, given Paige had just saved her sanity—and maybe her entire night. “Dinner’s on me. Whatever you and Charlie want. Pie, too.”

  “Appreciate it.” Paige gave a bit of a salute before she grabbed the coffeepot and started making the rounds.

  “Looks as if she could use a few meals.” Ursula rose up on her toes to watch Paige flit from table to table. “Seems strong, though. Doesn’t come off as crazy.”

  “Crazy doesn’t always show.” People were rarely—if ever—what they seemed. All the same, given the way Holly’s luck had been going, she wasn’t about to turn her back on help no matter how it arrived. “Worth a shot. Order up.” Holly pointed at the new slips of paper and darted out of the way as Ursula waved her magic wand in Holly’s direction.

  Holly exited the kitchen, scanned the diner and found her customers eating, laughing, drinking and enjoying themselves. When was the last time she’d seen the place this full or heard it this loud? And when, Holly wondered as she cashed out customer after customer, was the last time the register didn’t let out an anemic groan when it shot open?

  By the time the rush was over and the crowd had dwindled to a mere three tables and one counter customer, Paige ordered herself one of Ursula’s veggie burgers for herself and a grilled cheese for her daughter before clearing the last of the tables.

  “Charlie?” Paige called. “Five by five?”

  “Yup,” Charlie called and held up her hand, fingers splayed.

  “Five by five?” Holly asked as Paige shot past her with an overflowing dishpan.

  “Shorthand for ‘everything okay.’” Paige shrugged. “We got it off a TV show. It’s also code for her to let me know if something’s wrong.”

  “Oh.” Holly nodded. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched a TV show with Simon. Or did anything other than look at him across a counter or table. “You ready to take a break?”

  “Depends.” Paige dumped the dishpan in the kitchen and tugged a towel through the string of her apron. “Did I pass?”

  “Let’s talk first. Simon?”

  “We’re cool, Mom.” Simon had one of his notebooks open and was explaining his drawings and stories to a rapt Charlie.

  “For that alone I owe you.” Holly shrugged. “He’s a bit of a loner.” While the fact Simon didn’t have any real friends had made moving him to another school for the upcoming year easier for both of them, his lack of socialization never sat well. Not that she’d had much to say about it. Simon had always preferred his own company, especially after Gray died.

  “No one’s ever lonely around Charlie.” Paige sent her daughter such a look of affection Holly felt her own heart twist. “Best thing I ever did. Balances out the mistakes.”

  “Eat, girl.” Ursula banged her spatula on the pick-up bell. “Before you fall over. You, too.” She set a hot turkey sandwich—Holly’s favorite menu item—on the table beside Paige’s burger. “I’ll watch the tables.”

  Holly interpreted Ursula’s unusual offer as “sit, talk, hire the girl.”

  “So.” Holly dug into her dinner to silence her rumbling stomach and nearly passed out from the swooning explosions of thick gravy and perfect butter-roasted turkey. “Sometimes I forget how good a cook she really is. How long are you in town for?”

  Paige ducked her head, squeezed ketchup on her burger. “For a while. I was hoping Charlie might go to school here this year. It all depends.”

  “On what?” Holly wasn’t stupid, and living with Simon had taught her how to ferret out secrets and lies faster than any detector on the market.

  “Those mistakes I was talking about,” Paige said. “Big ones. I’m hoping Charlie won’t have to pay for them.”

  An image of Luke’s face drifted through her mind. Mistakes were her theme of the week. But moving past mistakes meant forgiveness. Was that even possible after all this time? Still, she had to admit, the anger normally accompanying thoughts of bad-boy Luke had subsided into a slow, steady bubble topped off with a dash of...interest.

  Holly paused. Interest? Holly scrubbed her hand along the side of her neck and winced. She had to be losing it for her thoughts to turn in that direction.

  “I’ve always been a bit of a flit-around,” Paige continued as if she didn’t notice Holly’s discomfort. “Moving from town to town. It was how I was raised, but Charlie’s getting older. I’d like her to have a sense of home.”

  Desperate to get her mind off Luke, Holly asked, “How’d you find Butterfly Harbor?”

  “I didn’t.” Paige shrugged, picked up her burger and bit into it. “Oh, my.” She rolled her eyes as she chewed and swallowed. “Pay me in burgers for the rest of my life. What the heck is in this thing?”

  “Ursula’s secret recipe. What do you mean you didn’t find it?”

  “Charlie. We’ve been driving cross-country for the past few weeks. Started in Ohio. She’s always had this fascination with butterflies, ever since she was born. She read online there’s going to be a new butterfly sanctuary being built here. When your kid utters the word paradise the second you cross the city limits, it’s hard to say no.” Paige smirked in a way Holly totally understood. “I’d like to make a go of it here. My schedule is flexible for working, so long as I can keep an eye on Charlie.”

  “Can I hire Charlie to keep an eye on Simon?” Holly loved the sound of the little-girl giggles dancing through her diner. Maybe it was time to loosen those reins she had on her son. “You said you’re staying at the Chrysalis?”

  “Until I can find someplace more permanent. It’s not cheap, but it’s nice and clean. Charlie likes it.”

  “But it’s not a home.” Why had Ursula given her green beans? Holly flicked them to the side.

  Paige stopped eating, looked out the window as the sun inched down into its bed for the night. “Charlie’s my home.”

  Well, if that wasn’t the right answer, Holly didn’t know what was. “Welcome to Butterfly Harbor
. And the diner.” Holly picked up her glass of iced tea and clinked it against Paige’s. “Now let’s talk salary.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THERE WAS SOMETHING spiritually satisfying about the son of the town drunk pinning a sheriff’s badge to his chest.

  Luke likened straightening the narrow tie down the front of his khaki uniform to doing a little jig on his father’s grave. All that was missing was a half-drunk bottle of whiskey and the snap of a leather strap.

  Cash let out a huge Monday-morning sigh from the blanket bed Luke had set up in the corner of the office. “Stop reading my mind,” Luke muttered. The idea of taking up residence in Jake’s old office sat about as well as if he’d binged on spoiled leftovers; but now the space was empty save for the desk, chair and various cabinets and bookcases. Luke saw potential. If he got around to fixing the broken window lock and repainting the walls. Some color would be nice, and maybe he’d open up the back wall and install another window behind the...

  “Morning, Sheriff.” Fletch lounged against the door frame to what was now Luke’s office, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand and a sly look on his face. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “Morning. Ozzy in yet?”

  “Kid practically lives here.” Fletch angled his head toward the desk at the far end of the room behind him. “Oz? Get in here.”

  Luke pocketed the keys that until yesterday afternoon had been in Jake’s possession for the past three decades. “Ozzy, the mayor’s sending over a couple of tech advisors to deliver our new computer system sometime this morning. I’d like you to supervise its installation.”

  Ozzy’s pinball eyes brightened for an instant before cautiously narrowing, as if reminding himself he shouldn’t be happy about the change in superior officers. “Okay.”

  “New computers?” Fletch sipped his coffee.

  “Gil asked me what I wanted,” Luke said. “Computers were top of the list. I’d like to get the past five years’ worth of files and records scanned and stored digitally. Which probably means a lot of scut work for a while. What?” Luke asked when Fletch grimaced.

  “Nothing.”

  Luke sat on the edge of Jake’s empty desk and looked at his two-man support system. May as well get this out of the way. “Look, I know this sucks. You’ve worked for Jake for a long time, and believe me, I’m not thrilled with how this whole transition played out, but the situation is what it is. The only way this works is if we’re a team from the start.” As much as it pained him to say it, he needed to. “I’m not Jake. I’ll never pretend to be, and while I’m on the same page with a lot of what he did, I’m also looking forward. Butterfly Harbor isn’t what it used to be. We have to adapt. Beginning with morning and afternoon patrols rotating between the two of us.” He pointed at Fletch. “Until I hire another deputy or two.”

  “What about me?” Ozzy asked with overly anxious eyes. “I was hoping, you know, with everything changing I might get out of the station occasionally?”

  Luke locked himself down against the hope in the young deputy’s eyes.

  “Not until I’m sure you’re ready. But you’ll get there.”

  “Great.” Ozzy’s neck flushed bright red. “Phones and writing reports it is. I love this job.”

  “If you don’t like it, there’s the door.” Luke might feel guilty about a lot of things, but making sure Ozzy was at the top of his game before he hit the streets—even the streets of tame Butterfly Harbor—wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t burying another kid. “Ozzy, I need someone I can count on overseeing all this new hardware. Jake says you’re the best at it, so tag, you’re it.”

  Luke held up the list he’d made over the past few days. “We’ve got a vandalism problem we need to tackle. So far it’s been restricted to abandoned and vacant buildings, but I’ve already put in a request with the mayor’s office to get all boarded-up windows replaced. I’m also going to institute a mandatory ID check for spray-paint purchases.” He knew from experience those paints could be used for more than tagging and defacing property. “The mayor wants to attract new businesses, so we need to make Butterfly Harbor a showplace again. Family friendly again. That means making everyone feel safe and secure.”

  “Going to mean some long hours,” Fletcher observed.

  “Problem with that?” Personally, he’d much rather spend his time here at the station than in the hole of a house his father had left him.

  “Not in the least,” Fletch said. “I can use the extra cash.”

  “The new computer system will also store your time sheets and be tied into a new surveillance system I’m getting installed. We’ll also go on rotation when it comes to days off. If that door is unlocked, I want someone here.”

  “Understood.” Fletch sipped again, and it was then Luke realized his deputy’s facial expressions had nothing to do with Luke’s changes and Jake’s retirement.

  Luke snapped his fingers. “Forgot something outside. Be right back.” Cash woofed from his office door. “You’d think we were married,” Luke grumbled. “Fletch, Ozzy, make friends with Cash. He doesn’t like being left alone.”

  He returned from the car a few minutes later and set the boxed-up high-end coffee machine on the counter. Both Ozzy and Fletch blinked at it as if an angel had been dropped to earth. “I was told it was the best on the market and could survive the workout it’s going to get. We all pitch in for the supplies, though, agreed?”

  Fletch and Ozzy nodded and walked in slow motion toward the box.

  “Great. Let me get this day started on the right foot and...” Luke headed to the rickety wooden table that housed a coffee machine that looked as if it had been around for as long as the former sheriff. Leaning down, Luke pulled the plug out of the wall and hefted the machine into his arms. He heard the front door open and close, and looked over his shoulder as Holly entered the police station with a basket hooked over her arm. “Morning,” he called, trying to remember a prettier sight than fresh-faced, bright-eyed Holly Campbell first thing on a Monday. But that was as far as he got with his greeting as her face flashed from friendly to fierce.

  “Hey, Holly,” Ozzy said. “Did you see what Luke bought us? Check out this— Ow! What was that for?” He rubbed his arm where Fletch smacked him.

  “I brought you all muffins.” She set down the basket, eyes pinned on the coffeemaker in his arms. “To wish you luck.” Something she obviously regretted now, given the fire sparking in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if about to go on, but shook her head, spun around and walked out of the station.

  Luke swore as he hefted the machine on to the counter. He shouldn’t care; he shouldn’t let her get to him, but that wasn’t just anger he’d seen on her face. There had been pain. Pain he’d caused. “Holly, wait!”

  * * *

  DID SHE KNOW how to start her Monday mornings off with a bang or what?

  “Simon, let’s go!” Holly held out her hand to Simon as he dashed out of the trees where he’d been throwing rocks into the surf. She hurried away from the police station. She should have known offering a muffin truce was a bad idea. She should have stuck to her guns and kept her distance, but the more she thought about her father’s request that she accept things and move forward, she’d wavered. She’d packed up a fresh batch of blueberry-orange muffins and headed off as if she was skipping her way to grandmother’s house.

  And ended up in the wolf’s den.

  “Holly, wait!”

  Simon looked up at her, his round face tilted into the morning sun, the red and blue explosions of color on his shirt blinding as he clutched his weathered notebook against his chest. “Mom?” He glanced at Luke, a frown of apocalyptic proportion on his face.

  Belly in knots, Holly crossed her arms and turned to face Luke, the sight of him in uniform making her heart skip a beat. The badge on his chest glimmered, the
sun picking up flecks of blue in his jet-black hair. Thick, soft-looking black hair... Oh, no. It was all she could do not to shake her head in denial, but there was no stopping the flame of heat working its way up and down her arms, igniting her cheeks.

  “You couldn’t wait, could you?” She kicked out a hip as Luke skidded to a stop in front of them. “He hasn’t even been gone a day and you’re removing any sign he was ever here.”

  “Holly, it’s a coffeemaker.” The exasperation in Luke’s voice grated on her nerves. “It’s older than you are.”

  “You’re throwing away Gert?” Simon moved closer to Holly, glaring up at Luke with so much vehemence Holly wished she’d left him with her father for the day. She didn’t need him being a witness to her emotional upheaval. “You can’t do that!” Simon cried. “It’s Grandpa’s!”

  “Gert?” Luke frowned at her. “Your dad named the coffeemaker?”

  “I named the coffeemaker.” Holly hated the tears clogging her throat. It was a coffeemaker, for goodness’ sake. Just a stupid coffee— She blinked quickly as her eyes burned. “When I was Simon’s age.” She could still remember the day her father had bought the appliance—shiny, metal and oh-so-new. She’d helped him set it up, and together they’d learned how to use it. Every time she made coffee at the diner she thought of that day—another memory Luke managed to taint.

  “I didn’t know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets but continued to meet her gaze directly. “Your dad cleared out everything he wanted to take yesterday. It didn’t occur to me—”

  “Why would it?” Holly licked her suddenly dry lips. “It’s not as if you’re here to preserve anything. You’re making yourself at home and moving in as if he never existed. What’s next, painting the walls? Rearranging the furniture? Maybe you want to gut the entire building while you’re at it. Tell me, how much destruction do you plan to do to my family?”

  His eyes sparked; his mouth tightened as if he had a response poised behind his lips, but she waited. Part of her wanted him to fight back, to give her the argument she was looking for. Maybe then she’d finally be able to exorcise the bitterness, the anger and the resentment that, despite her best intentions, continued to build inside her.