by Arlene James
A copper-haired young woman with a long ponytail moved from behind the cash register and toward them. Zach put two and two together and came up with a name.
“Erin, isn’t it?” Erin Fields was the daughter of the original owners of the diner, but she’d been a kid of eleven or twelve when Zach had last seen her. She put her hand out, and he gripped it with his.
“And you’re Zach Clayton. Glad to see you again.”
“Thanks. I was wondering if I could have a word with Miss Jones.”
Erin glanced around. “Sure. The worst of the lunch rush is past.” She patted Kylie’s arm, adding, “I’ll cover you for a bit.”
“Won’t be long,” Kylie promised.
“Take your time,” Erin said lightly, turning away.
Kylie slipped out from behind the counter and came around to hitch up onto the stool beside Zach. He twisted the top off the soda bottle and began slowly pouring the soft drink over the ice in the glass.
“So what’s up?” she asked.
He took his time, setting down the bottle and lifting the glass to sip the dark, bubbly liquid. “How are you? Still blaming yourself for the breakup when it was all on him?” Zach winced inwardly. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut?
“You would think that,” she said with a slight smile.
Zach’s gaze sharpened, his heart thumping. “What do you mean?”
“I know all about the bad blood between your side of the family and his.”
Relaxing a little, Zach murmured, “I doubt that. At most, you know Vincent’s take on the matter.”
“He says your grandfather stole his grandfather’s sweetheart.”
Zach nodded. “My Grandma. Though Grandpa George didn’t force her to choose him, you know, and it was more than fifty years ago, for pity’s sake.”
“Vincent also says George Sr. stole a bunch of money from his side of the family.”
Zach sipped at his drink. “Grandpa was an attorney. He was the logical choice for my great-grandfather to pass the reins to, though I couldn’t say how much money was involved. Don’t you think, though, that if Samuel could prove money was stolen from him, he’d have already done so?”
She seemed to consider this. “I’m not sure Samuel would willingly invite the scrutiny of the law.”
“Picked up on that, did you?”
She shrugged and changed the subject. “I don’t think that’s what you wanted to talk to me about.”
“You’re right. I want to know about the day that you found A.J. How did it happen?”
Her soft green eyes met his. “I was getting a drink of water in Vincent’s kitchen and I heard something outside. I thought it might be a stray puppy or cat, so I went out back to check and found A.J. sitting in the dirt next to a bush at the corner of the house. He wasn’t scared or crying, but he was pulling leaves off the bush. I called out to stop him from putting one into his mouth, and he was obviously glad to see me. I took him inside and called Sheriff Diggers. Then I cleaned him up and got him a drink.”
“Was Vincent there?”
“Yes. We were going to watch a movie on DVD.”
“Who arrived first, you or him?”
“He did. It’s his house. I assume he was there all along.”
Zach said nothing to that. “How did he act when you found A.J.?”
“I don’t know. Sort of…amused.”
“Uh-huh. How do you think A.J. got there?”
She bit her lip. “I assumed he had walked. When I think of the creek being right there…” She shuddered.
Zach mentally echoed that. “You really think a toddler walked a quarter mile alone, through the hedges and down along the creek?”
Kylie grimaced. “Doesn’t seem likely, does it? But why would Vincent take the boy?”
Zach studied his glass. “Kylie, do you know what happened to my baby sister Lucy?”
“I heard something about a drowning and Brooke not watching her.”
Zach nodded. “Lucy was just about A.J.’s age. Brooke was five years old. She and Lucy were watching cartoons in the living room when Mom went to take care of the laundry. She told Brooke to watch Lucy, but Brooke was caught up in her program. She didn’t realize that Lucy had slipped out of the house and gone down to the creek until Mom came back. By the time Mom and Brooke found her, it was too late.”
“Oh, Zach, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Brooke has always blamed herself.”
“But she was only five!”
Zach nodded. “Until Brooke met Gabe and A.J., she was convinced that she shouldn’t be a mother because of what happened.”
Kylie clapped a hand to her forehead. “Brooke accused Vincent of taking A.J., but I didn’t want to believe that Vincent could be so cruel. He called her irresponsible and said she ought not to be allowed around any child, but I thought that was bluster because she’d accused him of taking A.J. He must’ve known what that would do to Brooke.”
“He knew exactly what that would do to Brooke,” Zach concurred softly.
“But why would he do it?”
“To torment her. That’s what he does. But also because of the will.”
“You mean that he hopes to run her off before she can fulfill the stipulation of your grandfather’s will.”
“So the money will go to Samuel,” Zach concurred. “At least that’s the way I see it. If any of George’s grandchildren fail to return to Clayton and stay for at least a year, then Samuel gets it all.”
“Samuel won’t let that money go easily,” Kylie warned. Taking a drink of his beverage, Zach nodded. After a moment, she asked, “What happens now?”
Swallowing a bitter lump, Zach shook his head. “Nothing happens now. There’s no proof that Vincent had anything to do with A.J.’s disappearance.”
Just then, Erin shoved a plate containing a burger and fries in front of Zach. She plunked down a bottle of ketchup and a knife and fork. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Nope. Looks great.”
“Enjoy.” She moved away again.
Kylie slid off the stool, saying, “Look, I don’t want to get caught up in a Clayton family feud, but I thank God that the incident with A.J. didn’t end in tragedy.”
Thank God, indeed, Zach thought. More than one tragedy had been avoided around here lately, for that’s what the marriage of Kylie Jones and his cousin Vincent would have been. Pure tragedy. Zach suffered no illusions, however. Like Samuel, Vincent did not easily let go of what he wanted, and his little stunt at the picnic proved that.
“I’d better get back to work,” she said, edging away.
“Thanks for your time.”
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Zach returned lightly, as if he’d forgotten that they were expected at the church. In truth, he’d thought of little else, as foolish as that was.
Zach understood perfectly Kylie’s reluctance to get between him and Vincent because he didn’t particularly want to be between her and Vincent, either. But somebody had to keep a protective eye on Miss Kylie Jeanne Jones.
And if not the local deputy sheriff, he asked himself picking up his burger, then who?
Chapter Five
“It’s mostly folks needing help to pay the electric bill or someone to check on an elderly parent,” said plump Martha Ferber, her silver helmet of hair bobbing like a float on a fishing line. “Sometimes couples need counseling or their kids do.”
Zach glanced over the list of agencies taped to the top of the table. “So, when someone calls the help line, we refer them to one of these groups.”
Nodding, Mrs. Ferber went on. “Sometimes, they just want to talk, and sometimes they need to escape abuse. In that case, the most important thing is to stay calm. These folks call in a moment of crisis. To help them, we have to be sympathetic without being panicky. The cool head prevails.” She punctuated that last statement with such a firm nod that her glasses slid perilously
close to the end of her broad nose. Pushing them up again with a manicured fingertip, she went on in the brisk tone she had used as a teacher. “To be prepared, you’ll want to study the script of possibilities in your information packet.”
Zach set his teeth in his upper lip to keep from smiling. Here he sat, the big-city cop who had seen just about everything in his time, taking instruction on how to speak to an abused caller from a retired schoolteacher about as wide as she was tall, which wasn’t saying much because Mrs. Ferber barely reached his chest. Sitting next to him in a spindly folding chair placed before a table laden with telephones and computers, Kylie touched an elbow to his ribs and cleared her throat. When he looked down, her clear green eyes sparkled with mirth, but she deliberately frowned, making the point that the subject deserved sincere attention. Shaking his head, he looked away to keep from laughing.
“Am I going too fast for you, Zach?”
He cleared his throat. “No, ma’am. You’re doing just fine.”
Casting him a knowing, dismissive glance that made him feel sixteen again, Martha Ferber went on detailing their duties, which could not be called demanding by any means. If an injury had occurred, an ambulance had to be called, but because of confidentiality requirements, a client could only be encouraged to notify the police. Zach privately thought it unfortunate that the law did not require help lines to report abusive situations to the police, but the victims of such abuse rarely came forward and often would not seek even oblique assistance if not guaranteed discretion.
The help line operated out of an office that opened onto one end of the Fellowship Hall in “the Annex,” a simple structure erected at right angles to the west side of the sanctuary. Zach had been a little surprised earlier to find that so many attended the midweek prayer meeting. It had been years since he had done so himself, but he’d enjoyed the concentrated prayer that evening. Afterward, numerous individuals had journeyed into the Annex on various missions, he and Kylie among them—though she hadn’t arrived, fresh from the diner, until several minutes after the conclusion of the prayer service.
From the office where Mrs. Ferber gave instruction, Zach could see into the Fellowship Hall where Arabella and Jasmine were separating a huge tub of flatware into various containers while the triplets, all girls not much more than four years old, industriously colored on sheets of paper. Zach had been disturbed to hear some weeks ago that Jasmine had become engaged to Samuel’s grandson, Cade, Charley’s boy. Much to Arabella’s dismay, the young couple planned to marry in December. Zach wouldn’t know Cade if he saw him, but it occurred to him that Kylie probably would.
He looked her way in speculation, receiving the slight arch of one slender brow and the barest curl of a smile in return. A cleared throat had them both staring at Mrs. Ferber again, but Zach couldn’t help hiding a smile behind his hand, disguising it with a vigorous nose rub. They passed another half hour in that fashion, with Mrs. Ferber doing what she did best—teaching—and Zach and Kylie re-enacting their classroom days.
Arabella and the girls left before Mrs. Ferber finished, grinning and waving as they filed past the large interior windows of the office. Zach winked at each of the triplets, making them giggle. Mrs. Ferber made Kylie giggle when she called Zach on it.
“Still impressing the young ladies, I see, Mr. Clayton.”
“My, um, cousins,” he muttered, thoroughly chastised.
“I am aware,” said Martha Ferber dryly. “Now, let’s just go through this one more time, shall we?”
They went through it one more time. Afterward, Mrs. Ferber assigned them the time slot of Thursdays between 7:00 and 9:00 p.m., starting the very next night. Zach felt pleased. The phone hadn’t rung since they’d been there, and he’d enjoyed even the silent interaction with Kylie. He could think of worse ways to spend his Thursday evenings than sitting in a small room with her.
Finally, they prepared to leave. When he thanked Mrs. Ferber for her time, she surprised him with a hug. “It’s good to have you back, Zach Clayton. Your mama would be pleased.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Had his mother missed him so much that she’d complained to her friends about his absence? He wished he’d spent more time with her after his father had died. Instead, he’d made phone calls and let his resentment toward his father keep him away. Now it was too late. Why hadn’t he realized what he was doing before her death?
Zach and his dad had never gotten along, and matters had only gotten worse after little Lucy’s death. George Jr. had been a chip off the old autocratic, demanding, overbearing block that was George Clayton, Sr., but without the drive or cunning. Zach had thought that he’d spared his mother the angst of their famous clashes. His dad’s sudden death had left no chance ever to mend the rift. All of Clayton had then become a black hole of grief and regret in Zach’s mind. He’d found every excuse to stay away after that, but he was beginning to understand now that Clayton could actually be home again.
His parents had both gone, but he still had real family here, after all—Brooke, Arabella and the girls and, by extension, Jasmine. The thought of Jasmine made Zach wonder again what Kylie knew about Cade. Mentally framing how he would bring up the subject, he escorted her out to the parking lot. Before he could speak, she surprised him with her intent to walk over to the Feed & Supply, where her parents would be waiting to give her a ride home.
“We’ve just got the one vehicle,” she explained. “They were going to work on the books tonight while I was in training.”
“What about tomorrow night?” Zach asked.
“I don’t know. Guess I’ll walk over here from the diner and Mom or Dad will pick me up later.”
“I could give you a lift out to your place,” Zach offered lightly.
“Oh, I don’t want to put you out,” she muttered, ducking her head.
Disappointed, Zach didn’t push it. Instead, he said, “Well, let me drop you at the Feed & Supply tonight anyway.”
She shrugged and moved toward his Jeep. “Okay.”
As soon as she belted in, Zach started the engine and asked, “What can you tell me about Cade?”
“Cade Clayton?”
“Is there another Cade around here?”
“Not that I’m aware of. What do you want to know?”
Zach drove the vehicle across the parking lot and turned left on Flicker Avenue. “Anything. Everything.”
“Well, he’s a good kid. He’s kept his nose clean. He’s polite, bright, hardworking…”
Zach shot her a skeptical look. “We’re talking about Charley’s son, right?”
She tilted her head. “Charley’s no prize. It’s an open secret that he fakes a bad back to get out of work and collect disability, but no one’s more ashamed of that than Cade. If anything, it’s made Cade want to do better, and I believe he will.”
Zach made another left on Hawk Street. “How so?”
“Cade’s a vocal Christian, very popular and noted for his sincerity. He’s my favorite out of the whole family, although I have no problem with his half-brother, Jack McCord, either.” She shot him a look from the corners of her eyes. “Samuel’s family, I mean.”
Zach tried not to wonder just who her favorite might be on George’s side of the family. “Go on.”
“Well, let’s see. Cade was a good student, and he works at anything he can find. Besides that, he’s polite, respectful, helpful. He talks about going to college and wanting to be a doctor. And he’s utterly devoted to Jasmine Turner.”
“Yeah,” Zach said sourly, downshifting to crawl over the train tracks just north of Railroad Street. “That’s the problem.” He braked and turned right into the graveled yard of the Feed & Supply. “Arabella is not happy about this so-called engagement.”
“They are young to be getting married,” Kylie remarked as they bumped across the yard toward the main building.
“Too young,” Zach concurred, wondering why he felt the need to talk to her about this. He seemed to flap his
gums compulsively around her. “The whole family is up in arms about it, frankly. From what Jasmine says, Samuel’s side of the family is as upset as we are. Maybe more so.”
“That’s too bad,” Kylie said. “Pull around back.”
Rustic and unpretentious, the store itself stood dwarfed by the portable metal silos and prefab storage warehouse behind it. Zach followed directions, swinging the open Wrangler around the building.
“I just keep hoping they’ll lose interest in each other and forget the whole thing,” he told Kylie.
“Been known to happen,” she commented wryly, cutting a glance at him from the corners of her eyes.
“At the last minute, even,” Zach said with a chuckle, bringing the vehicle to a halt.
“The very last.”
They both laughed, and she hopped out. He grinned at her through the open side of the uncovered Jeep. “See you tomorrow.”
She waved and started toward the building. A light glowed in one corner window. Zach watched, the engine idling, until she opened a metal door and went inside. Smiling, Zach cut a wide loop in the yard, returning to Hawk Street, which dead-ended into Bluebird Lane. Less than three minutes later, Zach parked, then let himself into a dark, empty house.
Tomorrow, he thought, feeling lonely in a way that he didn’t know how to explain, can’t come soon enough.
“Hey, you,” Erin said, greeting Zach as he came through the door into the diner on Thursday evening. Kylie noticed that he had changed out of his uniform—or what passed for a uniform with him—into jeans and a simple T-shirt of a royal blue so intense that it made his dark eyes seem even bluer than usual.
“Hey, yourself,” he returned with a smile, taking in the other occupants of the café before striding toward the counter, which Kylie wiped with a cloth dipped in a vinegar and ammonia bath.
She tossed a nervous glance toward the table where Vincent sat with one of his cousins and a friend, laughing loudly. They’d come in ten or fifteen minutes earlier, demanding that Kylie serve them coffee. Since they’d obviously been drinking, Erin had immediately put on a fresh pot. When Kylie had served it, Vincent had ignored her. She knew that to be a petty form of punishment but had welcomed it nonetheless. Vincent’s gaze now followed Zach avidly as he sank down on a stool directly in front of Kylie.