Twilight cast deep shadows in the little clearing in the woods, but Rachel Marks had no trouble picking out the shack with the stack of split logs beside it. She could find everything in this meadow with her eyes closed. As she shuffled through the thick carpet of leaves and pine needles toward the woodpile, her feet kicked up the sharp scent of pine. Sam limped along beside her, and she slowed her pace to match his.
She frowned. His thin arms stuck out from the sleeves of his blue jacket, and his pants didn’t even come to the top of his socks. He could barely squeeze into them anymore. Thank goodness he was almost well enough to take to town. Otherwise, she’d have to buy him some new clothes. His pinched white face beneath the blue stocking cap he wore showed a tinge more color than it had last month. Day by day he grew stronger.
He was quiet, as always. Too quiet. Of course, there was no one for him to talk to but her and his pet squirrel, Marcus. She couldn’t put off the inevitable much longer.
But not yet. He’d only been walking for twenty minutes, yet his limp had grown more pronounced over the past few yards. He needed to rest. She beckoned to him, and he followed her toward the cabin.
Just outside the door, he stopped and tilted his head to one side. “I hear something.” Sam’s hushed voice seemed unnaturally loud in the still night.
Rachel stopped, her booted feet settling into the soggy leaves on the ground. Had they been found out? Her adrenaline surged and she tipped up her head and listened. “It sounds like a little kid crying,” Rachel said.
Sam turned his face up to hers, his eyes glowing. “A kid like me?”
“You stay here, Sam. Let me check it out.” She’d heard of cougars sounding like a child, but this sounded like no painter she’d ever heard. Just to be safe, she grabbed the ax as she passed the woodshed. Stepping cautiously toward the sound, she hefted the ax to her shoulder.
She caught her breath as the sound came again. That was no wild animal; it was a child. A crying child. She pushed aside the brush and peered into the tangle of shrubs then stepped into the fir grove. It was darker here than in her clearing but still bright enough to see the two children who sat on the ground. The little girl was weeping, her arms around a smaller child, a boy. Her woebegone face was streaked with mud, and she rocked back and forth, shudders wracking her small frame.
“I’m sorry, Timmy. It was my fault,” the girl sobbed. “Now you’re sick, and it’s all my fault.”
Rachel looked around warily until she was sure there was no danger of discovery. Could these children possibly be alone this far from town? “Hello,” she said, stepping near the children. “What’s your name, little girl?”
At the sound of her voice, the little girl whipped her head around and stared up at Rachel through saucer eyes. Twigs and debris matted her dark curls. She looked about seven or eight.
Rachel saw the fear in the child’s face and realized how frightening she must seem to the children, a fifty-year-old woman with braided gray hair topped with an old leather fedora.
“It’s all right; I’m not as mean as I look.” Rachel stepped closer. “Is this your brother?”
The little girl wiped her face and nodded. “His name is Timmy, and he needs his shot. I’m Emily. Daddy is going to be awfully mad at me.” Her voice was doleful. “We just wanted to see the raccoons.”
“I’m sure your daddy will be too glad to be angry when he gets you home safe and sound.” Rachel surveyed the little boy and frowned. He looked about Sam’s age, maybe four or five. She needed to get him inside where she could see him better.
She slid her bony arms under the little boy and lifted him up. Heat radiated off him like hot coals, and he shook like the few leaves still clinging to the trees above her head. She hoped he was as tenacious. His sister had mentioned a shot. Could he be diabetic? Rachel’s nurse’s training kicked in, and she leaned forward and sniffed. A fruity scent issued from his open mouth, and she winced. Yep. Poor kid. She had no insulin here, and town was miles away.
“Come with me,” she told Emily. “We’ll get you something to eat and drink.” Then she had to get them out of here. Without drawing attention to herself. The last thing she needed was the law on her tail.
Emily followed her into the clearing. “Is that your house? It’s sure little.”
“It suits us,” Rachel said shortly.
Sam was still standing where she’d left him. Motionless, he watched her come toward him. His gaze darted from her and the child she carried to the little girl who followed them.
“Sammy, open the door for me,” she said. He limped to the cabin and fumbled at the latch then swung the door open. He held it wide while Rachel carried the little boy inside.
The cabin wasn’t much, but it had been home for over a year. Only one room, but they made do. Sam’s cot was pushed up against one wall, the colorful log cabin quilt she’d made for him now faded but still serviceable. A battered table, four chairs, and a braided rug, faded and worn, completed the furnishings.
It was all scrupulously clean. She might live in the back of beyond, but that was no reason for slovenliness. Laying the little boy on the bed, she studied him. His face was flushed beneath the numerous scratches, and his breathing was labored. This little guy needed his insulin, now. Looking at the sunken areas under his eyes, Rachel saw he was dehydrated as well. A saline IV would come in handy, but that wasn’t something Rachel kept on hand.
“There’s a pitcher of water on the table,” she told Emily. “Pour some water for you and the lad. I’ll fix you a peanut butter sandwich, and we’ll get you back to that daddy of yours.”
Emily looked weary, but she stepped to the table and poured two cups of water. She drank thirstily from her cup, but Timmy turned his head and closed his eyes when Rachel offered him a drink.
As quickly as she could, Rachel slathered some peanut butter on slices of homemade bread. The law would be searching for these kids, and she had to get them out of here before the rangers found her cabin. Timmy refused to eat, and Rachel waited until Emily finished her sandwich. “You ready to go back to town?”
The little girl didn’t answer. She was too busy inspecting Sam. The food and drink had calmed her, and her eyes were inquisitive. “Are you his grandma?” Emily gave Sam a tentative smile.
Rachel searched for an answer. “I’m his mother,” she said, struggling against the irritation she felt at the girl’s assumption. It wasn’t only twenty-year-olds who were blessed to be mothers. She’d seen plenty of women who’d waited until later in life to have children. Her own grandmother had given birth to her last child at fifty-two. Thank goodness Sam wasn’t as inquisitive as this child.
Emily sidled closer to Sam. “What’s your name?”
Sam ducked his head and didn’t answer.
“He’s shy,” Rachel said. She fought the panic clawing at her belly. All these questions! She could only hope the kids would remember little of what they saw here. Luckily the stocking cap still covered Sam’s hair. The children wouldn’t have much of a description.
“Sammy, you hop into your pajamas, and I’ll be back soon.”
“I want to go too.” Sam stared up at her, his green eyes pleading.
“You’re not strong enough, Sam. I’ll have to carry Timmy—I can’t carry you too.” He knew to stay inside and keep the door latched until she came back. She’d had to leave him often over the past months.
Sam’s lower lip trembled, but he didn’t argue with her. It was no wonder the poor little guy wanted to go along. These children were the first contact he’d had with other people in months. Rachel gnawed her lip. She wished she could do better by him. But sometimes you just had to play the hand you were dealt. He would learn soon enough how life threw you punches and you had to stiffen your backbone and fight back, just as she did.
Giving Sam a little push, she went toward the little boy. “I’ll be back soon. You rest.”
Sam nodded and watched with wistful eyes as she picked up Timmy then took Emily’s hand and led her out the door. “Wait!” he cried suddenly. He limped toward them and thrust his beloved stuffed koala bear in the little boy’s hand.
Rachel frowned. “You don’t want to do that, Sam.” The kid had few enough toys. He didn’t need to be giving them away to strangers. From the looks of these two, they were middle-class and probably had bedrooms full of toys.
Sam’s lip protruded farther. “I want to give it to him,” he said.
Rachel shrugged. “Just don’t come crying to me tonight when you miss it.”
“His name is Pooky,” Sam said, ducking his head.
The little girl took the bear from her brother’s unresponsive hand and cradled it in her arm. She gave Sam a brilliant smile. “Thanks. I’ll give it to Timmy when we get home.” She fumbled in her jeans pocket and pulled out a yo-yo. “Here, you can have this.”
Sam stared at the yo-yo then back up at Emily.
“You play with it like this.” Emily took the toy back, slipped the string over her finger, and threw it. Sam’s eyes grew wider as the yo-yo returned to her hand. “Here, you try it.” She thrust it back into his hand and showed him how to put the string on his finger. He awkwardly tried to throw it, but it only came partway back.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” she told him. “Just practice. Thanks for the bear.” She leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek. With Pooky in her hand, she scampered out the door behind Rachel.
Carrying Timmy, Rachel led Emily across the yard and entered the forest. Stumbling over branches and brambles, they wound their way through the thick trees. Rachel’s back ached from the little boy’s weight.
Over an hour later, Rachel set Timmy down to rest her arms then stood and stretched. The road wasn’t far now, another fifteen minutes maybe. It was still light enough to see. She could park them by the side of the road, and someone would be along shortly. It was the best she could do.
Leaning down to retrieve her burden, she froze at the sound of voices. People—more than one. And dogs. That could be trouble. She set Timmy back on the forest floor.
“You’re safe now, kids,” she said hastily. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Don’t leave us!” Emily scrabbled for her hand, but Rachel evaded her, cursing herself for ever getting involved. She hoped she didn’t regret this day, but she was a sucker for kids.
Flipping her braid over one shoulder, Rachel took off at a run. “You’ll be okay,” she called behind her. “There are people coming. They’re probably looking for you.” The safety of the forest beckoned her, and she plunged into its sheltering depths. Emily’s wails followed her.
Kade’s temper was short as he organized the teams and finally got them on their way. The K-9 team he’d worked with before in Yellowstone had represented the height of ineptitude, scattering evidence and leading searchers in the wrong direction. He knew all teams were not that bad—the media reported plenty of success stories—but this search was his responsibility, and those kids were depending on him. Bree Nicholls had deliberately disobeyed his orders. Worse, the sheriff had made it clear his sister-in-law was to be allowed to have her own way. Typical of the nepotism in a small town like Rock Harbor.
He saw the mayor talking on a walkie-talkie and stalked her way. “Anything?”
Hilary clicked off the device. “None of the dogs has picked up the scent yet,” she said.
Kade leaned against the truck. “I thought this was a hotshot K-9 team.”
“Samson has been written up in more magazines than you can count,” Hilary said. “But even he isn’t perfect. They still haven’t found the plane that went down with my brother and their son.”
An awkward silence passed between them. “Your family issues are none of my business,” Kade said. “But I don’t like the way Bree Nicholls disobeyed my orders and put those kids in jeopardy.”
“She knows what she’s doing,” Hilary said. “You haven’t been here long, but she and Samson have found quite a few lost campers since she and Rob moved here.”
Before Kade could reply, a familiar red car slid to a halt in a cloud of dust. The door on the battered Plymouth spilled open, and his sister, Lauri, got out, her face its usual mask of petulance. He’d often thought of taking her picture and showing her that expression. Would she want her face to take on those lines for the rest of her life? He hadn’t done it, because he knew it would just make her mad. Everything was his fault these days.
“We’ve already missed the movies,” she said with her hands on her hips. Her gaze traveled to the two young rangers standing near the path to the pavilion. Straightening at their looks of interest, she preened and gave them a sultry smile.
Kade gritted his teeth. She was way too young to be flirting like that. At sixteen, his sister was a budding Lolita, using the power of her beauty in ways he probably didn’t want to know about. “What are you doing here?” he asked abruptly.
Lauri turned from her silent flirtation with the rangers and gave her brother a smoldering glare. “You didn’t even phone. If I hadn’t called headquarters, I’d still be wondering where you were.”
“I should have called, but things developed too fast for me to remember. There are two children lost in the woods, and one of them is sick. I forgot all about the movies. Sorry, kid.”
“Don’t call me ‘kid’!” Lauri tossed her head again. “I’m sick and tired of always taking second place to your job. If you don’t want me around, just say so. I could go stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”
Kade sighed, weariness settling over him like a suffocating wave from Lake Superior. “We’ve been over all that, Lauri. You are not going to our grandparents. You’d run over them inside a week. Besides, I promised Mom you’d finish school here, and I intend to keep my promise.”
Lauri gave him a calculated look far too mature for a sixteen-year-old. Where did she get that manner? He wanted her to enjoy her remaining years of school, to be a normal teenager, but he didn’t know how to ensure that, how to reach the vulnerable child he still sometimes glimpsed in her eyes. She refused to go to youth group at church. It was all he could do to get her to go to church at all.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll see you later.” She slung her long legs under the wheel and slammed the car door shut.
“Lauri, come back here!” he yelled. Her face set as though she didn’t hear, she tore off down the road, dust spitting from the tires. He clenched his jaw.
“Why don’t we drive along the access road?” Hilary asked. “It would be better than sitting around here doing nothing.”
Kade nodded, thankful the mayor had the tact to ignore Lauri’s little scene. He felt the need to be doing something. Otherwise, he might go find his sister and strangle her. He opened the truck door for the mayor then slammed it shut and got in on his side. He started the truck and drove into the dark forest.
Hilary cleared her throat. “Kids can be a trial, can’t they? I was a lot like Lauri at that age. It was an admirable thing to take on her care.”
“I’m regretting it daily,” he said grimly. The mayor’s sympathy surprised Kade. In their few encounters, he’d always thought her all business. “You have any kids?”
She turned to look out the window. “Not yet.”
That was a stupid question and clearly none of his business. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? The radio attached to his belt crackled to life.
“Ranger station, come in.” Bree’s voice cut out then surged stronger. “We’ve found them, and I’m sending up a flare. We’re in sector four.”
Kade grabbed the radio. “Ten-four. What kind of shape are they in?” Only a crackle of the radio answered his question, then a light shot from the forest and illuminated an area to their left. He gunned the truck down the rutted track. Hilary clung to the door as the truck pitched from side to side. He tossed the radio to her.
“Call an ambulance!” When the truck finished grinding to a halt beneath the spreading light, he jumped from the vehicle, grabbed his first-aid kit from the back, and ran toward the cluster of people huddled at the base of a giant sycamore.
Bree and Naomi were kneeling beside the two children. The little girl’s face was streaked with mud, and tears had left blotches on her face. She held her younger brother’s hand. Kade’s gaze dropped to the little boy cradled in Bree’s arms, and his heart sank at his condition. Even in the fading twilight, Kade could see him shaking. The sour smell of vomit lingered in the air, which didn’t bode well.
“Timmy is sick,” Emily sobbed. “Is he going to die?”
“We just gave him his shot,” Bree said. She pulled the little boy closer to her and wrapped her coat around him. Timmy visibly relaxed at her tender touch. He turned his face into her chest and sighed.
Bree appeared oblivious to everything but Timmy, and Kade wondered if holding the little boy brought back memories of her own loss.
Kade opened his canteen and knelt beside the children. He poured a few drops of water into Timmy’s open mouth. The little boy coughed but managed to swallow it, then Kade gave Emily a drink too. Running his hands over their arms and legs, he was relieved to find nothing broken.
“Just insect bites,” he said. “They seem to be all right. But we need to get them to a hospital. The mayor is calling the ambulance.”
“I already did,” Naomi said. “It should be here any minute.”
Kade whipped off the jacket of his uniform and knelt beside Bree. He wrapped the jacket around Emily like a blanket. “The ambulance won’t get here any too soon. I think we’d better run them to the hospital in my truck. Some of you will have to ride in the back of the pickup or wait for the ambulance.” He took Timmy from Bree and moved toward the road without waiting for an answer. Timmy’s head lolled against Kade’s chest, and his small feet dangled from the folds of the coat. Kade didn’t like the boy’s limpness.
Bree took Emily’s hand, and they started toward the dirt access road. As they reached the road, Kade heard the shrill wail of the ambulance in the distance. Relief left him almost lightheaded. Timmy and Emily would soon be under medical care. Moments later the flashing lights came into sight, followed by the headlamps of two other vehicles.
Putting her radio away, the mayor came toward them. She reached out a hand and touched Timmy’s hair. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.” She stroked his face then reached down and touched Emily’s head. “You’re both going to be just fine.”
Emily took her hand, and Hilary’s face softened. Kade turned away from the naked longing in Hilary’s face. He felt he was intruding on something private. His eyes connected with Bree’s, and he saw sorrow in them. All this motherly angst made him put his hackles up, and he tensed.
Kade signaled with his flashlight in case the driver had trouble seeing them in the twilight. Crunching gravel under the tires, the ambulance came to a stop and two paramedics leaped out. One of the men took Timmy from Kade and rushed him to the back of the ambulance. The second paramedic led Emily to the back as well. The other two vehicles stopped, and two men got out of the battered Dodge truck, its paint a dull orange-red in the light of the full moon.
“Daddy!” Emily dropped the paramedic’s hand and ran to Donovan. He dropped to his knees and folded Emily in his arms.
“Thank God you’re safe. Where’s your brother?” He gave her a little shake. “What have I told you about wandering off by yourself?”
Emily gave a little hiccup. “That I was never supposed to leave without an adult. I’m sorry, Daddy.”
The man looked around wildly. “Where’s your brother?” he repeated. Hilary reached out her hand but let it drop when the distraught father made no move to take it. “Your children are going to be fine, Donovan. Timmy is in the ambulance.”
Donovan let go of Emily and ran to the ambulance, where he stood watching the paramedics work on his son. An occasional groan issued from Donovan’s mouth. Kade could only imagine how he felt.
“Daddy’s mad at me,” Emily said, tears making her voice tremble.
Bree held out her hand. “He’s just worried, sweetheart. Come with me, and let’s see if I can find you a candy bar or something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry. The witch in the woods gave us some peanut butter sandwiches.”
Kade frowned. “Who’s that, Emily?” No one had been with the children. His gaze met Bree’s, and he saw the same confusion in her face.
“The witch in the woods. I was afraid she was going to eat us like the witch in the woods in the Hansel and Gretel story, but she gave us a peanut butter sandwich. Timmy wouldn’t eat his though.”
“There was no one with you,” Bree said.
“She ran away when she heard you and the dogs,” Emily said.
The little girl may be more stressed than they thought. Either that or she had quite an imagination. “Better get her checked out,” Kade mouthed softly to Bree.
She nodded. “That’s fine, but let’s get you back to town,” Bree said. “You’ll get to ride in the ambulance. Won’t that be fun?”
Emily’s lip trembled, but she nodded. “Is Timmy going to die?”
“No, he’ll be okay in a few days. But the doctors are going to want to look at him, and at you, just to make sure you’re okay,” Kade said. He took her other hand, and they led her toward the ambulance.
Her head haloed by the light from the ambulance, Emily stopped and looked up at Bree. “What’s your dog’s name? Will you bring him to see me?”
Bree smiled at Emily and touched her head. Kade dropped his gaze and wondered how old her son would be now. As young as she was, he couldn’t have been very old. Sometimes Kade had to admit he wondered how the Almighty chose who to save and who to take.
Bree nodded at Emily. “This is Samson. Samson, say hello to Emily.” The dog thrust his nose into the little girl’s hand. Emily giggled as the dog licked her face. “We’ll check on you tomorrow,” Bree told her.
Kade had trouble keeping his eyes off Bree. Though not really beautiful, she was arresting. The cut of her short red hair emphasized the delicate column of her neck and the fine bone structure of her face. Large green eyes that seemed a bit sad tilted up at the corners. It was no wonder, considering what she’d been through, what she was still going through. Though she looked fragile, Kade had seen her heft a heavy backpack with ease and knew she was stronger than she appeared. He guessed her to be a little younger than him, maybe late twenties.
Within minutes the ambulance, trailed by the kids’ father in the pickup, tore back the way it had come, leaving only dust and the fast-fading echo of the siren in its wake. “I’ll run you home,” Kade told Bree and Naomi. He could see both women visibly wilting. The day had been grueling, even for him, so they had to be exhausted. The dogs lay panting on the side of road, spent as well.
“My Jeep is at the parking lot,” Bree said.
“I’ve already arranged for your vehicle to be left at your home,” Kade said. “I’ll take you straight there.”
Bree stared at him. “Without asking me?”
He shrugged. “You left the keys in it. I figured you’d be too tired to drive.”
Bree motioned for Samson to jump into the back of Kade’s pickup. The dog moved slowly on sore feet. Charley followed him. “You were wrong,” she said. Her gaze dropped. “I had things I needed to attend to before going home,” she said softly. She bit her lip like there was more she wanted to say then headed toward the passenger door.
His lips tightened. She had been no saint today in spite of her success. “And you disobeyed orders!” Kade snapped. Bree just looked at him, and the calm confidence in her face irritated him even more.
Naomi jumped into the fray. “You have no idea who you’re talking to, do you? Bree and Samson are one of the top search teams in the country—in the world! Those kids would still be out there if we’d followed your orders.”
“I’ve worked with some bad teams in my time,” he snapped.
“Well, we aren’t one of them!” Naomi said hotly.
Kade compressed his lips. This was getting them nowhere. “How about we call a truce? I made a mistake and so did you. Sorry, Miss Nicholls, Miss Heinonen.”
Naomi opened her mouth, and from the fire in her eyes, Kade expected a scathing reply, but Bree shot her a quelling look and held out her hand. “Truce,” she said. “But it’s Mrs. Nicholls. And the only mistake was yours.”
He gritted his teeth but held his tongue. “Let’s get you home.” Naomi opened the door and slid in first, then Bree scrunched in beside her. Suddenly anxious to be free of the whole prickly mess, Kade slammed the door behind them and crawled behind the wheel.
They rode in silence to town. As they rounded the last curve, the twinkling lights of Rock Harbor came into view. Part of the town’s special flavor came from the setting. Surrounded by forests on three sides, it had all the natural beauty anyone could want. Old-growth forests, sparkling lakes where fish thronged, and the brilliant blue of that Big Sea Water called Superior along the west side.
They drove through town, down Whisper Pike to Houghton Street and past the businesses that comprised Rock Harbor’s downtown. “You’ll have to direct me,” Kade said.
Bree pointed toward the far light. “The lighthouse is mine. Naomi lives in the Blue Bonnet Bed and Breakfast right beside me—the house that used to belong to Captain Sarasin.”
Kade knew the house. Built by a famous captain of the area so his wife could watch for his return, it was the last house on Houghton Street before it curved into Negaunee, the road out to the lighthouse. He hadn’t realized it was a bed-and-breakfast until now. He rarely drove to that side of town. The lighthouse was perched just behind it at the end of Negaunee on a sliver of land that bravely faced Superior’s fury.
“You live in the lighthouse?” he asked. “I haven’t been to town much since I returned two months ago. When I was a kid, I used to prowl around that deserted lighthouse. I figured someone had turned it into a museum by now.”
“It’s not a lighthouse anymore. The Coast Guard replaced it with the offshore automated light years ago,” Bree said. “I’m in the process of restoring it. I’m on the last room now.”
“How long have you owned it? I figured someone from out of state bought it—someone with more money than sense.” He grinned to take the sting out of the slur.
“That might have described me and Rob at one time.” Bree laughed. “When we bought it, the chimney had fallen through the roof, and the porch boards were all decayed. Rob had inherited some money from his grandmother and a plane from his uncle. The lighthouse was just another piece of Rob’s dream. Our dream,” she amended.
“You’ve done most of it yourself,” Naomi said. “I don’t know how you’ve managed all alone.”
Bree smiled. “I plan to reinstall the Fresnel lens and light the tower, someday.” Her gaze softened and took on a faraway look. “I’d like to think my light might save a ship someday.”
Kade wondered what had triggered her obsession with rescuing people. It was admirable, but surely something had caused it. Did it start with the deaths of her husband and son, or had she always been that way?
Kade stopped in front of the bed-and-breakfast and let Naomi and Charley off. Naomi waved at them from the front porch then went inside. Kade drove on down Negaunee to the lighthouse.
Gravel crunched beneath the pickup’s tires, and Kade stopped the vehicle in front of the lighthouse. The brick building’s pink paint gleamed in the glare of the porch light, but the light tower was dark. Bree opened the tailgate for Samson and followed him to the front door. Kade lowered the windows. The smell of boat exhaust hung heavy in the moist air blowing in from Lake Superior. A ship’s horn bellowed a lonely note in the middle of the bay. The Ojibwa called the lake Kitchigami, which meant “giver of life,” though right now he felt that meaning was erroneous. It was more a taker of the life he wanted. At one time he thought he’d left this place for good, only to find he was trapped in it as easily as a rabbit in a hunter’s snare.
The slap of the water against the pier carried across the water. “Thanks again for all your help. I’ll call again if we need assistance.”
“You’re welcome,” Bree said. “Let’s hope you don’t have more lost campers anytime soon.”
“We both know that’s not likely,” he said with a wry grin. “People are pretty foolish when it comes to the wilderness. They think diving into the forest is no more dangerous than taking a stroll in the city park.”
Bree grinned. “I guess I’ll see you around then, Ranger Matthews.”
“Call me Kade,” he called through the window as he pulled away. The few businesses open in Rock Harbor’s three-block business center spilled enough light onto the sidewalk to make it appear quasi-welcoming. The neon still shimmered above The Coffee Place. He pulled into the café parking lot.
The rich aroma of espresso took the edge off the day’s frustrations. He’d been as surprised as everyone else in town when The Coffee Place got a newfangled espresso machine. It had proven surprisingly popular with more than just tourists. Milt Granger’s boy, Brad, was behind the counter, but he was too busy talking to a sweet young thing with three studs up each ear lobe to pay much attention to Kade. Kade coughed several times before Brad took his order. Kade finally succeeded in getting his latte and a turkey club sandwich with a piece of chocolate pie.
“Mind if I join you?”
Startled, he nearly spilled coffee down the front of his shirt. “Hello, Fay,” he said. Just what he didn’t need. Fay Asters stood behind him with one hand on a slim hip. He pushed out the chair opposite him with his foot. “Have a seat.”
“You seen Eric around?” she asked, sliding into the chair. Her slim fingers played with her hair then slid down to fidget with the chain around her neck.
“I’ve told you to stay away from him. He’s trying to straighten his life out. You’ll just muck it up again.” It was hard to keep his gaze from the quick movements of her hands.
“You’re not his keeper.”
“No, but thanks to you, he had one of those for three years.” He’d never understood what Eric saw in Fay. Slim to the point that she had none of the womanly curves most men admired, she didn’t even wear makeup unless she was in her femme fatale mode. It must be that innocent, little-girl way she had about her, a facade that hid the truth of her real nature.
She laughed, a silvery, tinkling sound that drew his gaze to her mouth. Okay, so that was attractive too.
“If you see Eric, tell him I have important news,” she said.
She slid away from the table with a grace that reminded Kade of a sleek cat. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop and wondered what he could do to keep her away from Eric. Whatever her news was, it would likely bring trouble.