by Helen Brenna
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask anything. Whether or not I can accommodate is an entirely different matter.”
Erica motioned to the dead-bolted door on her right. “Does that lead up to the apartment we’re renting?”
Lynn nodded. “Sure does.”
“Can we unlock it and leave it open while I’m working down here? I mean, when J—” She stopped. “I mean, after Zach goes up to sleep? That way, he can slip down here if he needs me. You can lock it again before you close down for the night.”
Lynn considered Erica for a moment. When she glanced over at Jason, her features softened. “Sure. Why not? Sounds like a good solution.”
“What do you think, Zach?” Erica asked, opening the door. “Let’s check it out.”
He climbed the stairs behind her and waited while she unlocked the door leading into their apartment.
“Cool, huh?” She swung the door wide.
He looked around. “We live in a restaurant.”
“Almost.”
Leaving the door open for Jason, she went back down to Lynn’s office and stood awkwardly in the doorway.
“Now what?” Lynn asked.
“Thank you.” Erica forced it out. “I think that’s going to work great.”
“By the way.” Lynn nodded toward a large bag of clothes on the floor. “One of the college kids from last summer left some stuff in one of the apartments and never returned my calls. You look about her size. You can borrow all that. If you want.”
Erica’s gut reaction was to pass on the offer. She’d always hated the way her mother had accepted handouts as if they were the most normal things in the world but the coat sitting atop the pile looked warm. Her leather jacket wasn’t doing much by way of protecting her from the biting wind that had been coming in off the lake all morning. The less money she had to spend on herself meant all the more for Jason.
“Warm weather’s still a few weeks away,” Lynn said, “so some of that stuff won’t do you any good for now, but the black pants and red shirts will come in handy.”
“Is that the Duffy uniform?”
“Yep.”
Well, that settled that. All Erica had were jeans in her suitcase. What she wouldn’t have done in that moment for a decent clothing store. She bit down on her pride. Again. “I appreciate it, Lynn.”
“Well, I need to pay a few bills before heading back to the kitchen for the lunch crowd.”
“Lynn?” Glynnis, the waitress Erica had met earlier, came into the kitchen from the dining area. “Debbie called in sick. Said she’s got pneumonia and isn’t sure when she’ll be on her feet again.”
Lynn sighed and turned to Erica. “Well? You said you knew how to waitress, right?”
“Sure.” Erica was already looking forward to lunch hour tips.
“Better be careful, or you might make yourself a little too useful around here.”
“Put a few of my Italian recipes on the menu and I’ll become indispensable.”
Lynn burst out with a hearty laugh. “Dearie, we haven’t changed the menu in more than five years.”
Erica raised her eyebrows. “Exactly.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“GARRETT, YOU IN THERE?” A moment after the knock sounded, Herman poked his head inside the unoccupied apartment in the Duffys’ building.
Garrett had finished repairs at Erica’s and was now wrapping it up next door. “Over here,” he called from the corner of the living room.
“You want to grab some lunch?”
Was it that late already? “Sure.” He climbed down from the ladder and put away his tools. “First let me wash up and change into my uniform.” He brushed spackling off his insulated flannel shirt, grabbed his bag and went into the bathroom.
By the time he’d finished, Herman was standing outside on the landing, whistling, his face toward the April sun still high in the sky. Garrett’s first impression of the man had been spot-on. He was too gentle and kindhearted a soul to be a cop, let alone a police chief. No wonder Jim Bennett had looked off the island for a replacement.
“So where do you want to go today for lunch?” Herman asked.
Great food was tough to come by on this island. Of course there weren’t many places that could compete with Chicago on that front, so he didn’t bother complaining. Generally, he and Herman alternated between all the restaurants in town, not wanting to play favorites. They hadn’t been out to the Mirabelle Island Inn for a while, but that was a long walk.
“Let’s go downstairs to Duffy’s.” Their food wasn’t the greatest, but with any luck Erica would be around and he could put a few more pieces together.
Herman grinned and chuckled. “Yeah, all right.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say nothing.”
During the short jaunt down the alleyway and out to Main Street, they talked about the upcoming tourist season and whether or not they’d hired enough temporary officers for the holidays. It was a perfectly sunny spring day, making the entrance into the pub all the more disappointing. Garrett hated the dungeonlike feel of Duffy’s Pub. At night, it was fine, even gave the place a cozy feeling, but during the day he much preferred the openness of Delores’s café.
A sign at the entrance told them to seat themselves. Normally, he came here for dinner and sat at the bar. A few folks were taking lunch in the main dining room. Lynn was in the kitchen. He glanced into the dining room and spotted Erica delivering water to Ron and Jan Setterberg. Ron owned the equipment rental place in town and Jan managed the Mirabelle Island Inn for Marty Rousseau. Dressed in black pants and a red Duffy’s T-shirt, Erica was taking their orders.
“I can see you’re going to want to sit in the main dining room,” Herman said.
“It’s too damned dark out here in the bar.”
“If you say so.”
As they walked toward the lakefront windows Garrett noticed Erica’s son sitting by the kitchen. His table was strewn with papers, markers and video games. When Erica glanced up from taking the Setterbergs’ orders and noticed them, she faltered.
Garrett smiled and flicked a hand toward the group.
“Afternoon, Ron. Jan,” Herman said, smiling at Erica. The Setterbergs returned the greetings to Herman and Garrett.
“Let’s go sit by the boy,” Garrett said, heading to the table next to him. “Hey, there, Zach. How you doing today?”
“Good.” He barely looked up from coloring on a piece of paper.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“I don’t have to go until tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s cool.” He sat down.
Erica spun toward them. “I’ll be right with you guys.” Turning in the order at the kitchen and dropping off drinks at another table of island residents, she seemed nothing if not efficient. When she brought Zach a glass of chocolate milk and a plate of chicken fingers and French fries and set two glasses of water down in front of them along with their menus, her hands trembled slightly.
He would’ve liked to think her nervousness had more to do with him being a man than a cop, but he wasn’t about to delude himself.
“So what would you like, Chief Taylor?”
“Call me Garrett. I’ll take a grilled cheese.” Tough to screw that one up. He handed her the menu he hadn’t bothered to open. Personally, he liked Lynn a lot, but she was a much better bartender than cook.
“What would you like, officer?” She smiled at Herman.
“Call me Herman, and I’ll take a hot beef and a glass of milk.”
“I thought you were going to be bartending,” Garrett said.
“Why do you care?”
Herman grinned and raised his eyebrows at Garrett. “Just making small talk,” Garrett said.
“Sure you are.” She took Herman’s menu. “One of the waitresses called in sick, so I’m filling in this morning.”
“Probably Debbie,” Herman said.
Without any fur
ther acknowledgment, she turned to her son. “Zach, you doing okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She headed toward the kitchen to put in their orders. Zach picked up a couple of fries and seemed to be looking around for something in which to dip. Without saying a word, he walked over to the waitress station and grabbed a bottle of ketchup. Erica ushered Zach carefully back toward the table. “You have to stay over here, okay?”
“But I needed some ketchup.”
“We can’t have you getting in the other waitresses’ way. If you need anything, wave me down.”
Erica might be as prickly as all get-out with the rest of the world, him in particular, but with Zach she was calm and gentle, not at all grouchy. She went back to work, but her attention never seemed to waver far from what was happening at their tables. If not watching them, she seemed tuned to their conversation. If not at their table, she was walking by them to get bits and pieces of what they were saying.
It didn’t take long for Erica to deliver their lunch orders. As soon as she moved out of earshot, Garrett casually glanced at the kid. For an apparently healthy young boy, he was awfully quiet. He had a marker in one hand and a chicken strip in the other, from which he occasionally took a bite.
“So, Zach, what’re you drawing?” There was a picture of what looked like the Mirabelle ferry, the shoreline with trees and two people with gray hair holding hands. “Who’s that?”
“Lynn and Arlo.” The boy didn’t bother glancing up, merely kept coloring blue waves in the water.
“They’re nice together, aren’t they?” Herman said, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the table. “Kind of like grandparents, huh?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Do you have grandparents?” Garrett asked.
Herman shook his head.
“Yeah, but my grandma has black hair,” Zach said, still not looking up. “She wears lots of necklaces and big earrings and brings me presents.”
As if she knew what they were talking about, Erica started toward them but an order came up and she had to deliver it to one of her tables. Suddenly, Garrett felt bad pumping the boy for information. “Do you miss your grandma?”
“Not really.”
“The place where you used to live?”
“Yeah.”
“You never know. You might end up liking Mirabelle more than you’d think,” Garrett said. “There’s snowshoeing, sledding and snowmobiling in the winter. As soon as it warms up, there’ll be horseback riding and biking.”
“I don’t have a bike.”
“Do you like to fish?”
No response.
“Ever been sailing?”
“No.”
“Me, neither. Until I moved here.”
Zach glanced up with a questioning look.
“I came here last fall, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done. Could end up being the best thing that ever happened to you, too.”
As if he wasn’t convinced, Zach frowned and returned to his coloring. Garrett decided to give it a rest and began an innocuous conversation with Herman. While they discussed summer shifts and vacation time, Garrett studied the boy and his mom, but mostly his mom.
The absence of that leather jacket and boots certainly made her look less intimidating. With three silver rings between her two hands, both ears pierced multiple times and a leather band around her neck, she obviously liked jewelry. She had a nice walk, purposeful and confident, not too fast, not too slow. It could’ve been the black apron that accented her waist, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen nicer curves on a woman. The distance seemed perfect from her shoulders to her waist, waist to hips, hips to thighs and on down her legs. Her lines reminded him of the graceful grain of that burled black walnut he had back in his workshop.
Herman whistled. “Earth to Garrett.” He waved in front of his face.
“Sorry.”
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” Garrett grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it. The moment Erica moved out of earshot, he whispered, “You have a good day in school tomorrow, okay, Zach? Only two days until the weekend.”
“Yeah. Erica says anyone can do two days.”
Erica, huh? What happened to Mom? He leaned down to Zach. “And if there’s ever anything I can do for you, let me know. That’s what police officers are here for. To help.”
Zach looked at the badge clipped to the outside of Garrett’s jacket. “My dad keeps his badge in his pocket.”
Garrett glanced at Herman, and even he showed interest in that comment. Garrett squatted down so he was eye level with the boy. “So he’s a detective, huh?”
Zach nodded. “He carries a gun. Do you?”
“Yep. So does Herman.” Garrett flipped his jacket open to show the boy his shoulder holster. “What city does your dad work?” he whispered.
“Chicago.”
Bingo. He’d been right on the money. He could feel Erica’s eyes on him as she made a beeline toward them.
He stood. “Well, have fun at school tomorrow, Zach.”
“Thanks.”
As they walked outside after paying their bill, Herman said, “Didn’t see that coming. A cop, huh?”
“Interesting, isn’t it?” But what bothered Garrett more than anything else was that Erica might not be Zach’s mom.
The minute Garrett got to his office at the Mirabelle police station, he called the island ferry office and asked them to notify him immediately should Erica Jackson purchase a ticket to get off the island, and then he searched through the national database of missing children, focusing on the Chicago area. Two hours later, he’d turned up no matches.
None of this was making sense.
“YOU DID ALL RIGHT,” Lynn said to Erica as she stood at the waitress stand, refilling her coffee cup.
“Thanks.” Uncomfortable with the looks of that last exchange between Jason and Garrett Taylor, Erica watched the cops head outside as the lunch crowd thinned out. The front door closed behind the two men, and finally she felt as if she could breathe. “Waitressing is like riding a bike.” She turned back to Lynn and noticed the older woman’s skin had turned ghost pale. “You okay?”
“Fine. Just a bit queasy.”
“Could be you’re coming down with something.”
“I don’t get sick.” Lynn straightened her shoulders into a stubborn line and headed back to the kitchen.
More like Lynn couldn’t afford to get sick. The more time Erica spent around the restaurant, the more she realized the aging décor had more to do with waning business than anything.
Erica went to Jason’s table and sat down across from him. “You and Chief Taylor sure did talk a lot.”
“Yeah,” he said, absently.
She’d heard some of their conversation, and if she were honest with herself she’d admit he seemed like a decent guy, the way he’d tried to ease Jason’s concerns about a new place to live. But she didn’t want to be honest, and she didn’t want her thoughts preoccupied with Chief Garrett Taylor any more than necessary. Besides, there were moments here and there when she hadn’t been able to hear what he’d been saying to Jason, and his expression had been fairly serious.
Jason had finished with his lunch, but he was still drawing. She pushed back his bangs and noticed his naturally blond hair already showing through at the root line. She was going to have to dye it again soon. She stilled his hand and, when he looked up at her, asked, “Do you remember what you and Garrett talked about?”
“Huh?”
“You know, you and the chief. Do you remember what he said?”
“No.”
“Think, kiddo. Hard. I need to know.” Whether or not we’re going to have to pack up tomorrow and leave.
Jason concentrated. “He asked me about this picture.” He pointed to a couple of stick figures with gray hair. “The one of Lynn and Arlo. Asked me if I had grandparents.”
She was right. He had been fishing. “What did you tell him?”
&
nbsp; “That my grandma doesn’t have gray hair.” His eyes turned worried. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Vehemently, she shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Zach. It’s okay.”
Enough was enough. Cop or no cop, she was going to have to set Chief Taylor straight on a thing or two.
CHAPTER NINE
“HOT BEEF. BURGER AND FRIES.” Erica put her table’s order up. After walking Jason to school Thursday morning, she’d come back to the pub to work through lunch, since Debbie had called in sick again. When she didn’t see Lynn at the grill, Erica glanced into the kitchen. Her new boss was leaning over the prep counter with her eyes closed. “You look terrible.”
Lynn groaned. “I feel like I took a nasty spin on a carnival ride.”
“Is there someone who can fill in for you?”
“Our summer cook was supposed to show up yesterday. I’m guessing he won’t be coming at all.”
“There’s no one else, like for when you get sick?”
“I told you. I—”
“Don’t get sick. Because when you do, the pub closes down.” Erica got it. Small business owners were never cut any slack, and the restaurant business was brutal.
She glanced into the dining area. It wasn’t too busy. If Glynnis could handle this lunch crowd, Erica could cook. Still, she hesitated, hating the thought of doing anyone a favor for no particular reason. Next, Lynn would be doing Erica favors. Then back and forth until things were all cozy and she expected Erica to be her best friend.
Then again, the winter jacket Lynn had given her yesterday had felt awfully warm this morning, not to mention there’d been another jacket, one that had looked suspiciously new, at the bottom of that bag of castoff clothing for Jason.
Oh, hell. She stalked into the kitchen. “Go sit down,” she told Lynn. “I’ll take care of the orders.”
“You don’t know your way around this kitchen.”
“It’s a kitchen, and cooking is what I do best. If it makes you feel any better, you can give me a raise.”
Lynn sat down on the stool behind the counter while Erica quickly oriented herself. She glanced at the board, finished with Glynnis’s order in process, popped it up under the heat lamps and went to fill the next one.