Cooking Up Love

by Gemma Brocato

  “Well, thanks.” She accepted the compliment, before trying to change Dunk’s mind again. “I hate to take up your time like this. I’m sure you have better things to do…”

  “Hell’s bells, Jem. I’m retired. Sonny told me I couldn’t hang around the shop anymore. Said it makes him nervous. Since I can’t go there, I don’t have a lot to do, as pathetic as that sounds.” The older man laughed. “You don’t have to keep me company. Just go about your business, act like I’m not here.”

  Jem opened her mouth to object, but Dunk made a show of opening his paper, then peered into his cup. He looked over at her and she threw up her hands, defeated.

  Grabbing a plate from beneath the counter in front of her, she reached into the display case with tongs and snagged the last Dutch crumb cake. She pulled the coffeepot off the burner, walked over to the table and poured.

  He patted her hand in a fatherly way as she put the pastry in front of him and smiled up at her. “This won’t last forever, Jem. You’re family, and we want to keep you safe. You need to find a way to go with the flow. Honestly, it’s not a chore to spend time with you. It makes us feel like we’re helping. Let us do this for you, okay?”

  Jem returned his steady gaze. “Alright. But Pippa will be here in thirty minutes for a cooking lesson. You can leave then.”

  “Deal. You go on back and get ready for her. I’ll hold the fort down out here.” He turned back to his paper. “Huh. Would you look at that? The Sox finally traded their good-for-nothing centerfielder. It’s about damn time.”

  Jem shook her head as she pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

  “You leave the door open, you hear?” Dunk called after her.

  “Aye, aye, captain.” She laughed and flipped the doorstop to the floor with her toe, propping it open.

  Walking over to her desk, she pulled out a recipe book and flipped to the page she wanted. She set the book on the counter and headed to the pantry, smiling as she easily entered the bright closet, not bothering to turn on a light. Four short weeks ago, she’d have stood in the doorway, practicing deep breathing techniques to psyche herself up to go in. It was still small and confining, but the window and pocket door definitely made it a hundred times easier. God, she loved Jack and what he’d done for her.

  Her arms loaded with ingredients, she headed to the center island and arranged everything in the order it went in. Moving to the pot rack, she reached for a bowl and a cast-iron skillet as a knock sounded on the back door. She looked quizzically at her visitor.

  What was he doing here? She pulled the bowl off the shelf and set it on the island before walking over and opening the door.

  “Hi, Grant. I didn’t expect to see you today,” she said cautiously.

  “No time to talk, Jemima. Jack’s been hurt.”

  “Hurt? What happened?” Jem stopped dead in her tracks. A shudder of fear and disbelief settled into an anxious ache in her stomach.

  “There was an accident at the Palmer place.” Grant didn’t look flustered or panicked. He looked…angry.

  Jem stared at his scowling face and shrank back a bit as he grabbed her arm to hurry her up. “That job isn’t supposed to start until next week. How bad is it? Have they called an ambulance?” Jem shivered at the thought of the injuries Jack could suffer. Her knees melted like butter and she reached out for the counter, feeling dizzy. Her gaze flew to Grant’s. “Why didn’t they call me? Why would someone send you to get me? This isn’t making sense. How did he get hurt? They aren’t doing anything out there yet.”

  “I thought I heard voices back here,” Dunk said as he came through the doors, concern clouding his craggy features. “What’s going on, Grant?”

  “Shit!” Grant said as he grabbed the skillet Jem had set on the counter and swung it around at Dunk’s head.

  The sound the skillet made as it connected with Dunk’s skull made bile rise in her throat. His eyes rolled back and he sank to the ground. The pan clattered to the floor next to Dunk as Jem went to her knees to help him.

  “Grant! What the hell? Why’d you do that?” She gently touched the bump already rising at Dunk’s hairline, but Grant seized her wrist in a tight grip and pulled her roughly to her feet.

  Jem jerked her hand away and turned toward Dunk, but froze as Grant pulled a gun out of the pocket of his jacket. His hand trembled as he pointed it her and then waved it in Dunk’s direction.

  “What the hell, Grant?”

  “Dammit—this wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. I was just supposed to grab you and take you to her. No one was supposed to be hurt. Shit!” Grant’s hand trembled as he ran it through his hair.

  “Who? Who needs to see me so badly that you’d hurt Dunk? And why do you have a gun?”

  “You have something she wants, and she told me to bring you to her. Damn, I didn’t think anyone else would be here.” Grant swung the gun between Jem and the man lying motionless on the floor.

  Adrenaline flooded her system and she shivered against the spidery sensation it caused as it flowed across her nerves. “I don’t know who or what you’re talking about. Please, put the gun away, Grant.”

  He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair again. “No. Let’s go, she’s waiting.”

  “Wait! Is Jack really hurt?”

  The lawyer scoffed. “That was just a ploy to get you to come along without questions. Too bad Dunk was playing guardian angel. It might have worked.”

  Jem blinked back tears of relief. Jack was okay. Now she needed to figure out how to defuse Grant and get his gun away from him. And get help for Dunk. She glanced at the butcher knife she’d pulled out in preparation for Pippa’s lesson, quickly rejecting the idea as the old saying ran through her head: don’t take a knife to a gunfight, or something like that.

  She looked at the clock over the stove, her heart thudding like a runaway freight train. Pippa and the twins could walk in any minute, and Grant had a gun. Not good.

  Dunk groaned and his lids fluttered. Thank God, he wasn’t dead. Jem made a decision, one she prayed she wouldn’t regret later. “I’ll go with you. Just let me get a cold compress for Dunk first, okay? Please, he’s hurt badly. Murder will only complicate things. Please,” she pleaded.

  “No time, gotta go.” Grant waved the gun at her again, and motioned her out the door.

  With a last look at her favorite ROMEO and a pit the size of the Grand Canyon in her stomach, Jem walked through the back door to Grant’s idling car and climbed in.

  Well, damn! Where did someone who looked like an aged cover model for a romance novel get handcuffs? Okay. Stupid question. There was a gun clenched in his fist. Why wouldn’t he have cuffs? He snapped one half of the bracelet to her left wrist, then pulled her arm up toward the top of the door. Her elbow connected hard against his cheek with a satisfying crunch when she tried to pull her hand out of his grasp. Howling with pain, he grabbed the gun he’d placed between his legs when he pulled out the cuffs, and shoved the muzzle against her rib cage. The weapon dug painfully into her side as he reached across her and closed the other half of the handcuff around the oh-shit handle over the door, her arm pulled awkwardly across her chest.

  The car roared to life and Grant pressed the accelerator hard, tires squealing as he pulled away form the back door of Taste. He careened around the corner onto Front Street, dangerously cutting off traffic in both directions. Jem looked around wildly as horns honked and pedestrians yelled, but of course, just like NYC, never a cop around when you needed one.

  “Grant, slow down. You’ll kill someone.”

  His short burst of laughter sounded maniacal. “That wasn’t the plan, but maybe it can be arranged.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to wink at her before turning his attention back to the road.

  “What do you want from me?” As she said it, understanding dawned like a great big light bulb. She knew what Grant and his mysterious partner were after. “This is about SPACES, isn’t it?”

 
“Smart girl. Maybe too smart for your own good.” Grant flashed her an angry look. “You have evidence that could be used against us. We can’t let that happen.”

  Grant barely slowed the car as he took the turn onto the road leading out of town. The tires hit gravel on the side of the road and the back of the car fishtailed, jerking Jem’s left shoulder hard as momentum forced her toward the center of the car. Something popped near her neck and she grunted at the sharp sting. Grant struggled to bring the car back in control.

  As the car finished its swerve, Jem winced, breathing through the pain in her shoulder. She tried to listen as Grant continued. “Caroline stole a ledger from us years ago. She hid it all these years. We’ve tried many times to get it back, but never found it. We figured once she died, we’d be safe. We were sure you’d close the café, put her things in storage and head back to the city. No more problem. Except you decided to stay.”

  “If you wanted me gone, why did you try to convince me to stay?” Jem asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It was her idea,” Grant answered, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “We couldn’t make it seem obvious that we wanted you gone. We were afraid it would push you in the other direction. She doubted you’d stay, what with your big fancy life in New York. But your dickhead boyfriend couldn’t keep it in his pants and you ended it with him. We didn’t see that coming.”

  “Who?” Jem searched her brain for a name of the mysterious she Grant kept talking about. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to ease the ache in her shoulder.

  “You’ll see. She’s concealed her identity even from the rank and file of SPACES. She’s clever that way. She always devised the plans for each operation. It was her idea to lay low for the past few years, even when the media began beating the global-warming drum. That’s when the group would really shine, but she wanted us out of the public eye after the debacle so close to home.” Grant shot Jem a look, like he was waiting for her to put two and two together.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  “The electronics plant where Peter died,” she said flatly. She turned to face him, grimacing as pain lanced through her shoulder again. That pain paled in comparison to the searing ache in her heart.

  “Ding, ding, ding. Peter wasn’t the only smart kid in the George clan. He overhead some conversations and figured out where the money came from.” Grant’s smile was pure evil. “God, it was a sweet setup. All SPACES had to do was turn their attention toward a company and they’d pony up thousands of dollars to stay off our radar. No one wanted us pinning their corporation in our environmental spotlight. The lovely Caroline used to dig up plenty of useful information about environmental blunders. Her background as a forensic accountant came in handy. We’d offer the information back to them for a price.” Grant sighed and dropped a hand to the gun in his lap. “I liked Caroline. When I got orders to keep her close, it wasn’t a hardship. Unfortunately, she figured out what we were doing and ended it with me about a week before Peter was killed. The ledger disappeared shortly after.”

  Grief stabbed sharply to her soul as she thought about her brother and aunt. “Did you kill Peter?” she asked.

  “Let’s just say I didn’t try to stop him from falling off the roof when I could have. He was shocked when he found out SPACES was nothing more than a front for a blackmail operation. Poor lad. So young to be disillusioned about the real purpose behind such a passionate cause.” Grant sighed again as he looked at her.

  “That’s what Caro meant when she said she could have prevented his death. She waited too long to take the ledger to the authorities. She could have exposed you for who you are.” Crap! She’d just admitted that she knew about the stolen documents. The pain in her shoulder was numbing her wits. She’d have to do better if she hoped to escape from Grant and his partner.

  “We never stopped looking for the ledger, but the old gal was cunning. She hid it well. But you found it.” Her stomach roiled when his knowing glance raked her. “And you’ll tell us where it is. Sooner or later.”

  “Not a chance in hell, Grant. I’ll never give it back to you.” Jem fought the fear agitating through her. “Caro left it to me to do the right thing. And I will.”

  “Humph! Back at ya sweetie—not a chance in hell.” Grant laughed as he turned the car into a driveway. “We’re here.”

  Chapter 26

  When the phone call that rocked his world came in, Jack was cruising slowly past Nancy Jensen’s house, still searching for Tessa. There hadn’t been any sign of either woman for the last three days and his frustration level had ratcheted up toward DEFCON five. Glancing at the display panel on his truck’s navigation system, he rolled his shoulders and thumbed the control to answer.

  “What’s up, Pippa?”

  “Jack, I’m at Taste. Dunk’s unconscious and I can’t find Jem.”

  “Not funny, pipsqueak. Not even close.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m not kidding. I am here for my lesson with Jem and the back door was wide open. I found Dunk on the floor with a goose egg on his forehead. The ambulance is on its way. Can you meet us at the hospital?”

  “What the hell? Where’s Jem?” he shouted.

  He veered to the right and brought the truck to a screeching halt on the side of the road. His shoulders hunched closer to his ears, surrounding his neck in a vise-like grip.

  “I don’t know,” Pippa responded. “Dunk’s the only one who can tell us what happened. And he’s not talking. Listen, the paramedics are here. Just meet us at Granite Pointe General as soon as you can.”

  Drawing several gulps of air, he fought the icy embrace of fear. His soul ripped in two the way ice calved away from a glacier, harsh and thunderous.

  He’d failed to protect Jem and now, God knew what Tessa might do.

  Dunk hadn’t regained consciousness by the time Jack met Pippa and the ambulance at the emergency room entrance. The doctor examined the older man while Pippa spoke with Officer Tompkins. Jack’s jaw ached with tension and he took deep breaths, struggling for patience. They wouldn’t know anything about where Jem might be until Dunk came around.

  The wait was going to kill him. The world had reeled away beneath his feet when he’d answered his cell phone. He’d wanted to go straight to the café, to rip it apart looking for Jem. Pippa had convinced him to meet them at the hospital instead. He’d broken several traffic laws on his way here, and he was going to owe the village a new planter to replace the one he’d backed into in his hurry to get here. But none of it mattered. The important thing right now was finding Jem.

  “Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long?” He clenched his fists as Pip rejoined him.

  Pippa ran her hand up and down his arm, like he was a child. “I’m sure the doctor is working as fast as he can. Billy Tompkins just went in to the exam room. He’ll be back soon with news.”

  “I should be out there looking for her. Dammit! I’m supposed to protect her. I fucked up. I should have never asked Dunk to babysit her. She hated it and now she’ll hate me even more because he was injured. Oh God! If he dies…” Unable to complete the sentence, Jack ran an agitated hand over the stubble he never seemed to conquer.

  “Come on, Jack. Jem is never going to hate you. And Dunk isn’t going to die. This isn’t your fault. This is all on Tessa.”

  He exhaled sharply. “I failed there, too. I can’t find her, or Nancy, anywhere. Tessa’s left and probably took Jem with her.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble, Jack. As soon as Dunk wakes up, we’ll get answers.” Pippa’s eyes filled with hope, as if urging him to not give up. “Have you called Sam?”

  “Yeah. He’s headed to the café to see if he can find a clue, anything to tell us where Jem is. He called Sonny to let him know about Dunk.”

  “Okay, that’s good.” She took her brother’s elbow and steered him toward the waiting area. “You go sit. I’ll get us coffee.”

  “I don’t want coffee. I want Jem—safe.”<
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  Pip stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “We all do. And it will happen. The hardest part will be the wait.” She pushed him gently into a chair across from the nurses’ desk, but in clear view of the room where they’d taken Dunk. “I’m going to call Mom and check on the kids.”

  Jack grabbed her hand as she started to walk away and looked at her, his lips pursed with tension and eyes stinging. “I love her, Pip. She’s my life”

  Pippa patted his shoulder and turned away, but he saw her tears. Oh, damn, he thought as he lost his breath and his tears leaked out. He pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes and took a shuddering breath. He had to think positively. It’s what Jem would have done. She’d be more concerned about Dunk than herself. They’d find her. Tessa was crazy, but she’d never hurt anyone. At least he didn’t think so. What the hell was taking the doctor so long?

  Chapter 27

  Jem recognized the old house as Grant parked the car. It was the remodeling project Jack’s workers were taking on next. He’d brought her out to walk through the kitchen one afternoon last week.

  Grant shoved the gun into her ribs again. “Remember, I have a gun. Don’t get cute.”

  “I’m not likely to forget you have gun when you keep shoving it at me,” Jem mumbled back.

  He pushed his weapon deeper into her side.

  “Ouch!”

  He set the gun back in his lap, reached over her head and released the handcuff from the handle. The relief from the pain in her shoulder was brief, ending when he grasped the restrained wrist and pulled her free arm over. Jem shuddered as Grant snapped the cold metal over her right wrist. Pocketing his gun, he shot her a wicked smile, opened his car door and slithered out. Jem could only be grateful he’d restrained her hands in front of her. Until he jerked open her door, tugging savagely to pull her out of the car. Her quick exhalation of pain didn’t appear to make a difference to him as he dragged her toward the back of the house.

  “Where the hell are you taking me?” she demanded, stumbling behind Grant.