Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  Jem stepped to the side, dug in her back pocket as the game continued and pressed her phone to her ear.

  Jack went on alert when her expressive face morphed from laughing to confused to concerned in a matter of seconds. He launched himself off the bench and strode in her direction as she disconnected, glancing wildly around. He could feel panic rolling off her from across the yard. She started toward him, meeting him halfway.

  “The security company called. Something is wrong at the café. I have to get over there. Can I borrow your truck?”

  “I’ll take you.” Jack took her hand and changed directions toward the front of the house. “Have the police been dispatched?”

  “Yeah. Wait, I want to tell your parents goodbye.” Jem pulled away from Jack and ran over to his folks. “I’m so sorry to run off. There’s a problem with the alarm at the café. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I have to check.”

  Dad set Mia on her feet and stood, giving Jem a quick hug. “Do you need the Kerrigan army to go with you?”

  Jack fished his truck keys out of his jeans. “I’m going with her. If it isn’t too late, we’ll be back. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Mom kissed him. “We’ll be cleaning up soon. Why don’t you two stop for lunch tomorrow?” She reached up to kiss Jem’s cheek. “I hope everything is okay.”

  “Me, too. Happy anniversary. Thank you again for including me in your celebration.” Jem returned the kiss. “It was such a relaxing evening. I’m sorry it has to end. Please tell Pippa and the kids I’ll see them Tuesday.”

  Jack found Jem’s hand and pulled her toward the street where he’d parked his truck.

  * * * *

  “Someone heaved bricks through the windows. We’ve found four in the front half of the café.” Officer Tompkins gestured through the remnants of the two shattered front windows. He continued in an annoying monotone. “The burglar or burglars entered the space and made it as far as the front counter with spray paint before the alarm scared them off. The damage appears to be limited to the forward portion of the space.”

  Jem shifted anxiously from foot to foot, waiting for the officer to finish his report. The viselike grip that had clenched Jack’s stomach when he’d gotten his first look at the damage hadn’t eased in the least.

  The café remained off-limits to them. They wouldn’t be allowed in—not until the police finished taking pictures and bagging evidence. Ordering Clooney to stay by Jem, Jack had stepped to the side to call Sam. Right now, his brothers were on their way to Jack’s construction yard to pick up enough plywood to board up the window frames. He’d call the glazier in the morning for replacements. Dad promised to show up with paint thinner and cleaning supplies.

  “How much longer do you think they’ll be in there? I’d like to get started on cleanup,” Jem said, wringing her hands together.

  “It will only be a few more minutes. The separate entrance for the apartment apparently kept the perpetrator from making it up there. You should be okay, but it might be better for you to stay somewhere else tonight. Until the windows are replaced downstairs and the security system can be taken off bypass.”

  “I won’t be scared out of my home.” Jem squared her shoulders in resolve.

  “I’ll be here,” Jack stated. He took Jem’s cold hand and massaged the palm soothingly with his thumb. The officer nodded, then stepped through the café window. The smooth, stroking motion on her palm calmed her, but didn’t stop the waves of tension rolling through him. The police hadn’t asked yet if they had any theories about who might have done this. But, he knew—he absolutely knew—what he would say once the question did come up.

  Tessa. His crazy ex-wife.

  “We’re finished here,” the younger officer said, returning to the street. “We’ve gotten the pictures we need and collected the evidence. A detective will be in touch with you in the morning. You can clean the broken glass and board up the windows. Weather report calls for rain tonight. I guess you want to get plywood up quick.”

  “Wood’s on its way.” Jack reply sounded terse even to him as he eyed the damage. He struggled against his anger to keep his fingers gentle as he continued to massage her hand.

  The officer nodded good night and walked to his cruiser.

  Jem leaned into Jack’s chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. In spite of the destruction waiting behind her, she took a moment to offer him comfort. The chokehold of his anger eased somewhat as he pulled her closer and laid his cheek against her hair.

  “Do you think it might be okay to just roll the storm shutters down?” Jem asked.

  “We’ll see when Sam and Noah get here. Did you get in touch with your insurance agent?” Jack tangled his fingers in the hair she had hastily pulled into a ponytail for the basketball game at his parents’ house.

  Good Christ! Was it just an hour and a half ago?

  “He’s on his way. He said he’d prefer it if we didn’t clean anything until he had an opportunity to document it. The police told me they’d forward copies of the photos if he needed. I guess we better go take a look at the damage.” She pulled away from Jack and looked into his eyes. “You told me Caro installed the security system when she had problems with local teens breaking in. You don’t believe this was teens, do you?”

  “Sugar, I wish to God it was what I thought,” he answered. “You already know who I think is responsible for this. I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s just stupid, Jack. Did you throw the bricks through the window? Did you paint nasty words all over tables and the walls?” Jem’s anger over the situation surfaced for a moment, before she expelled a deep sigh. “I could have sworn you were at your parents’ house when this happened. Don’t apologize for something you think she’s done. Even if she did it, you aren’t responsible.”

  “Do you honestly think if she wasn’t my ex-wife this would have happened?” Jack’s grasped Jem’s shoulders and searched her face. “She’s living a fantasy. Her behavior lately has been erratic. That was obvious from the scene she caused the other day. God! It scares me. It should scare you. I absolutely hate to think about you dealing with her by yourself.” He leaned his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes shut, and continued. “Sam and I talked this evening and we agree Tessa is losing it. I’m going to try talking to Nancy Jensen, her mom. She must have some clue about what Tess is going through. Maybe she can help.”

  “I guess it’s worth a shot.” Jem’s skeptical tone spoke volumes about her doubt that Tessa’s mom could, or would, help.

  “Listen.” Jack held Jem’s chin with his thumb and forefinger to stress his point. “If Tessa approaches you when I’m not around, I want you to call me right away. She’s more unhinged every day. I won’t gamble with your safety.”

  “I was kind of hoping you’d already convinced her. But, yeah, I’ll call. I’m rarely alone anyway. If you’re not here, Avery and Elizabeth are. There truly are only three hours each day when I’m by myself. I’ll set the alarm when I’m alone. I’m also going to have the security company wire the apartment. I should have done it when they re-wired the café.”

  Jack nodded. “Good plan. I’ll leave Clooney here in the afternoons, if you don’t mind. Even though he was Tessa’s dog, he likes you. You keep him with you when no one else is around.”

  “Okay, but listen, Jack. What if it’s not Tessa? Anyone could have thrown those bricks. Maybe it was just high school kids.”

  “Then why aren’t any other shop owners out here filing police reports too?” Jack gestured down the street angrily. “No one else has any damage.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that,” Jem conceded. “You’re really going to think this is a stretch then. What if it has to do with SPACES? Maybe someone finally came looking for the ledger or the other documents Caro had hidden. I looked over the books, and I think Pippa’s patient is right. The top dogs in the group, whoever they were, pressured different manufacturers to pay bribe money in exchange for leaving their factories
alone.”

  Jack shook his head and tapped her chin, drawing her eyes back to his face. “Yeah, that’s a big stretch. It’s old news, and you don’t know for sure if it’s the case or not. No, I think this is definitely Tessa. It has to be. I can see her hand in the graffiti scrawled on the walls in there. That’s the type of stuff she’d say.”

  Jem started to respond, but a vehicle pulled into a slanted parking space in front of the café, distracting her. Jem’s insurance agent, Tim Snead, got out from behind the wheel, and Grant Dubois exited the car on the passenger side. She raised her hand, greeting them. “Hi, Tim. Thanks for coming so late. Grant, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Grant shook hands with Jack. “I was on my way to Tim’s to play cards when you called him. I came to see if I could help. I’m handy with a broom or scrub brush. Sounds kind of like you could use both skills tonight.”

  The attorney’s generous offer astounded Jack, but Jem crossed her arms over her chest, clearly wary. As far as he was concerned, Grant’s generosity didn’t make him any less creepy. Neither did the smirk on his face or the shiny disco shirt he was wearing under his bomber jacket. “It means a lot that you’re willing to offer.” She broke off as one of Jack’s construction trucks pulled up. Bruce’s SUV followed closely behind, with Pippa riding shotgun.

  For the first time of the evening, Jack saw tears shimmering in Jem’s eyes. Tim rubbed his hand across her shoulders. “Jem, what happened here tonight is bad. Criminal, in fact. Still, it was just property. It can be fixed.”

  She dashed the tears away. “I know no one was hurt. Thank God! You’re right. This is something I can repair. I’m just a bit overwhelmed right now.”

  Jack excused himself and walked over to confer with Sam. Might as well decide if they really needed the plywood sheets before going to the effort of pulling them out of the truck bed.

  “There are plenty of people here to help. Looks like the Kerrigans are out in force,” Grant said as he returned. The subtle grimness in his tone made Jack look sharply in his direction.

  Jack’s family formed a tight semicircle around Jem and made him forget the tone in Grant’s voice. They’d all keep her protected, safe.

  “I’m overwhelmed by the support I’ve gotten from them and the rest of the town. Including you two,” she gestured between Tim and Grant. “I have plenty of friends in New York, but I’m sure the number of them willing to show up late on a Saturday night with unconditional offers of help wouldn’t fill the fingers of one hand.” Clearing her throat, she grabbed Clooney’s collar and looked at the group surrounding her. “Thanks, everyone. Just…thanks. I’m going to put the dog in the apartment. I don’t want him to walk on the broken glass. Tim, why don’t you get started? I’ll be back in a second. Grant, there are brooms in the back of the pantry. Will you grab a couple and bring them to the front? And—thanks.”

  Chapter 23

  Jem laid her head on her folded arms, bone-weary and heart-sore. It was after one in the morning and her platoon of friends had spent nearly four hours scrubbing away the worst of the paint damage. Rolling the shutters down instead of putting up plywood had saved them over an hour of labor. Tim and Grant swept up glass until nearly eleven. The windows had shattered into millions of pieces. She’d probably find blue glass pebbles for the next month.

  Sam made a fast trip to the construction shop and brought back a power sand blaster for the paint on the brick walls. It had done the trick, but fine dust covered every surface in the café. It would wait until tomorrow. Taste wasn’t open on Sundays, giving her a day to get everything back in order, including ordering replacement glass. Hopefully, the café would reopen in time for lunch on Monday.

  She lifted her head from the table when her cell phone rang.

  “Jem, what happened?” Avery’s voice boomed before she could say hello. “A buddy just called and said the shutters on the café were down and there was a lot of activity there.”

  “Someone had bricks and cans of spray paint and knew how to use them.”

  “Have the police been by? Who did it? Was it kids? I’ll be there in five minutes to help.”

  “Avery, stop. Everything is fine. Stay home. You can come by midmorning if you want to help us clean. But we’re okay for now.”

  “You’re sure? I’m serious, Jem. I can come help now.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re about to lock up for the night. But I’ll count on your help tomorrow morning. There’s dust on everything and I’ll need a small army with rags and mops to clean it up.”

  Not five minutes after she hung up with Avery, Walt called, with another offer of help. Avery had called him, not Elizabeth, to share the news and his concern about Jem’s safety. This man had kicked his son out just a few months ago, but now he was the first call Avery made after speaking to her. Jem took pride in her small role in this particular transformation.

  She laid her chin on her fist after she hung up with Walt, her eyes unfocused and gritty. It was the first time she’d sat down since she’d joined Jack at the picnic table in his parents’ back yard yesterday afternoon. Jack stacked cleaning supplies in the corner where they could pull them out easily tomorrow, then walked to where she sat. He knelt at her side, placing a strong hand on her arm. She shifted her eyes to his lean fingers, staring at them for a few seconds before she realized he was speaking to her. She blinked hard to focus and forced her attention to his words.

  “That’s all we can do tonight,” he said as she shifted her head to rest her cheek on his hand. She gazed tiredly at him as his other hand came up to cradle her neck. “Let’s close up and get some rest.”

  Jem nodded and rose sluggishly, unsteady on her feet as exhaustion rolled over her. She braced a hand on the back of her chair to stop swaying. Jack didn’t seem tired, yet he’d worked twice as hard as anyone. She knew part of his energy came from his anger at the damage he believed his ex-wife had done. Jem suspected he was right: this was Tessa’s handiwork. But until the police confirmed, she’d push the thought away.

  She wished Jack could let it go as easily. She hated that he felt partially responsible for tonight’s events, even though she, his brothers and his father had tried to convince him otherwise. Pippa, who’d left the kids at home with Grandma K and their cousin for a sleepover, sided with Jack. She believed his former wife had done this deliberately, in the hope of drawing Jack back. Pippa argued that Tessa thought Jack would do anything to protect Jem. Including getting back together with his ex-wife.

  Jack pulled her through the café door and locked it behind them. He didn’t bother setting the alarm. He wrapped his arm tightly around Jem’s shoulder and helped her up the steps to the apartment.

  Clooney greeted them at the front door with a happy woof, startling her out of her daze. “Oh, we better take him out for a walk. Let me get my coat and we can go.”

  Jack planted a brief kiss on Jem’s forehead. “I’ll take him. You should get to bed. I’ll only be a few minutes.” She started to protest, and he held his fingers to her lips. “No arguing. Please?”

  She kissed the fingers and nodded. She headed toward the back of the apartment, pausing long enough to look over her shoulder at Jack, who watched her, as if to make sure she wasn’t going to change her mind and insist on going with him and the dog. “Jack, I know you think you’re the reason this happened. I don’t believe that. And I don’t care. In spite of how hard we have to work cleaning up the mess, it could have been worse. I need, really need you to remember you didn’t do this. The police will find out who did, and the person will be punished. Please, please be done beating yourself up about it when you come back from your walk with Clooney. Okay?”

  “Sugar, I…” Jack’s voice trailed off when she blinked away tears that threatened to spill over. “Aw, Jem, you’re breaking my heart. Please don’t cry.” A ghost of a smile tugged the corners of his mouth. He waited until she returned the smile before letting himself and the dog out of the apartment for a quick w
alk.

  Jem leaned against the nearest wall and stared as the door closed after the man she loved. She ached, physically and mentally. She was tired, cranky and sick at heart over Jack’s unreasonable sense of responsibility. Nothing she said seemed to alter his belief in Tessa’s culpability, and by extension, his own. At least for tonight.

  She walked slowly down the hall, pausing at the bathroom door briefly, and decided she needed to lie down for a moment before she got ready for bed. Entering the bedroom, she fell back on the bed, fully clothed.

  She was dreaming. She knew it. Terror seized her chest, squeezing unmercifully as she searched for the door out of the suffocating darkness of the dream. She tried to raise her arms, to feel her way, but every mental command she sent to move them was ignored. She felt helplessly trapped. Wounded animal moans came from her throat. Her body involuntarily responded with a series of shudders as panic rose. Her constricted throat made it impossible to release the building scream.

  “Jemima. Jem! Sugar, come on. Wake up!” The steely grip of her paralysis lessened as Jack’s deep voice reached her subconscious. She opened her eyes, her arms flailing in an attempt to escape the prison of the dream. “Shhh, it’s just a dream. Come on, sugar, come back to me.”

  Jack knelt next to her and pulled away, easing her sense of confinement without breaking contact with her. One hand stroked her hair back out of her eyes while the other rubbed along her arm. The residual effect of her claustrophobic dream made her gasp for breath. She scooted away out of the restraint of his hands, and toppled off the bed as she reached the edge, jarring herself fully awake as she hit the floor. Jack scrambled off the bed and was next to her instantly. He reached to help her to her feet, but Jem scooted away from his hands.

  “Give me a second,” she panted.

  He sat on his haunches watching her gasp and shudder, his eyes bleak. She pushed herself to her knees, breathing through her panic, her glance darting around the bedroom. Jack had turned on the lamp next to the bed. She appreciated his instinctive reaction to her nightmare, but it didn’t lessen her shudders. She held up a hand to stop his advance and shot to her feet. The bedroom continued to shrink on her. She closed her eyes in an attempt to quell the oppressive feeling, but the action made it worse. Darting from the room, she raced down the hall toward the front door. She threw it open, thundered down the steps and exploded through the street door, drawing deep lungfuls of cold air.