Chapter 21
I took Sashkatu with me and deposited him in my shop before meeting Travis, so I wouldn’t have to go back home to fetch him before I opened up for the day. Instead of twiddling my thumbs until the appointed hour, I walked into the Morning Glory Café seven minutes early. Travis had beaten me there. He was seated in a booth toward the rear of the restaurant, talking on his cell phone and jotting notes on a little pad. He was concentrating, completely plugged into what the caller was saying, his brows drawn together so tightly they forged a vertical crease over the bridge of his nose.
At that early an hour on a weekday, the restaurant was half full, the patrons all town residents. I exchanged nods and waves as I passed their tables. Without glancing behind me, I knew that every one of them turned to see whom I was meeting for breakfast. In a town the size of New Camel, I would have been surprised if they didn’t.
Travis clicked off his call and looked up as I reached his booth. The tension in his face instantly softened into an easy grin.
“Hi,” I said, sliding in across from him before he had a chance to stand and greet me. It seemed like the least awkward way to handle things, since I didn’t know him well enough for a kiss, and a handshake would have been too formal.
He slipped his phone into his pocket. “I see you’re a fan of punctuality.”
“Always have been,” I said.
“Me too. Irritates the hell out of some people, though,” he added with a laugh.
“Sounds like you enjoy doing that.”
“Irritating people? You don’t? Be honest now.” He skewered me with his eyes, daring me to lie.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe a little.” Sitting there with him, I remembered why I’d first been attracted to him that day in my shop. You could read all the magazine articles and self-help books about not judging a man by the way he looks, but you can’t help what attracts you. And I was attracted to him like crazy. He had a sly, confident smile like he’d read the ending of our story and was waiting for me to catch up. But his eyes also showed elusive flashes of the boy he’d been. I was glad he’d chucked the on-air suit to go with a polo and chinos again. I definitely preferred this casual Travis to the up-and-coming TV journalist. I could picture him on the deck of a sailboat, hair streaked lighter by the sun. Seriously? I asked myself. Have you forgotten that this is the man who scoffs at magick and essentially considers you a fraud who earns a living by duping people, including his mother?
My internal rant was cut short by the young waitress who’d come to take our order. I’d never seen her before, but college kids from neighboring towns often found jobs in New Camel when the tourist trade spiked in the summer. I asked for a Morning Glory muffin and tea. Travis wanted coffee, black, and after a moment’s hesitation, seconded the muffin.
“Their Morning Glory will knock any others you’ve had out of the water,” I said.
He shrugged. “This is going to be my first one. Figured I’d give it a try.”
“Ah, so you’re impulsive as well as punctual.”
“It’s important to be open to new experiences.”
“As long as it’s not magick.” The words slipped out before I knew they were on my tongue.
“It’s not exactly a proven science,” he said wryly.
“In the right hands, it’s actually more of an art.”
“Touché.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I propose a truce. Let’s agree to disagree for now. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you too much to spend the time sparring.”
How could I say no when he put it that way? “Truce,” I agreed, although it seemed like we were merely kicking the ball farther down a bumpy road. Sooner or later we’d have to decide if our opposing views were a deal breaker. But I decided to live in the moment and enjoy the time with him. It wasn’t as if I was signing on for the long haul; it was nothing more than tea and a muffin. “You never mentioned you were a big shot TV newsman,” I said to steer the conversation into more benign waters. Anything he asked about me was bound to lead right back to magick.
“Hardly a big shot up here in the boonies,” he said in an aw-shucks tone. He paused for a moment. “I know this is going to sound really awful, but the truth is, the Harkens murder has been a huge break for me.”
“You’re right; it does sound awful,” I said, although I hadn’t intended to make it sound quite so harsh. After all, he hadn’t pulled the trigger or hired a hit man in order to further his career ambitions. “Sorry,” I murmured, “I guess that hit too close to the bone.”
“No, I’m sorry. I get it. Too soon after such a traumatic event to be talking about personal silver linings. Especially when I don’t know if you were close to the victim.”
“Jim Harkens was our family’s attorney, but I’ve always been a lot closer to his wife, in spite of our age difference.”
He nodded. “I should have asked, before opening my big mouth.”
“Apology accepted.” I didn’t know what more to say. Apparently neither did he. The silence was piling up between us like bricks building a wall. I glanced around the restaurant as I tried to come up with a new topic, but we had no history to fall back on. No, “hey, remember the time” or “how’s old so-and-so?” Travis was staring out the window, probably engaged in the same futile exercise. Luckily the waitress arrived with our breakfasts.
I added sweetener to my tea and spent a ridiculous amount of time cutting my muffin into quarters. How was it possible that two intelligent people couldn’t think of anything to talk about? Then it hit me—Travis’s coverage of Jim’s death could be a silver lining for Elise and me too. If he was good at his job, he probably knew more about the case than anyone beside the police and the killer. And if he didn’t, at least it would serve to break the silence. “Have you done a lot of research on the Harkens case?” I asked.
“I’m still at it,” he replied, grabbing for the lifeline I’d tossed him. “I need background material on all the players to add color and filler to my reports.” He broke off a piece of the muffin and studied it. “What’s in this thing?”
“Walnuts, carrots, raisins, coconut, and sometimes pecans and dates. Bakers add different things. Your basic kitchen-sink recipe.”
He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s good.” He sounded surprised. “I don’t normally go for a hodgepodge like that, but it really is good.”
“Has your research turned up anything interesting?” I asked to get him back on topic.
“Possibly.” He stopped to drink his coffee. “I don’t usually talk about a story I’m working on,” he said, when he realized I was waiting to hear more. “Okay, can I can trust you to keep your lips zipped?” I nodded. “Here’s what I know—your ME, Westfield, made it to the top in the Manhattan medical examiner’s office at a young age. His resume was impressive, Ivy League, consistently placed in the top two on every civil service exam he took. He was definitely on track for Chief ME of the entire city. So why pack it in and move to a little backwater up here?”
“To get his family away from the crime in the city, the threat of terrorism, the overcrowded schools, the pollution?” I said. It made perfect sense to me.
Travis frowned as if he’d caught me cheating on a test. “That’s his response, almost word for word, every time he’s asked the question.”
“I think he did the right thing for his family. And I wouldn’t be surprised if his wife played a major role in the decision. Not everyone needs money and fame to be happy.” I thought of telling him how Tilly had turned it all down too, but I suspected he’d discredit the source.
Travis finished his coffee and beckoned to the waitress for a refill. “You think I’m looking for intrigue and melodrama where none exists?” his voice was oddly hollow. It was as if I’d taken a pin to his balloon and all his enthusiasm had fizzled out.
“Look,” I said, “you asked my opinion, so I gave it to you. But you’re the one in the news business. Your instincts are bound to be a lot better than mine.”
He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Yeah, you’re right. What was I thinking?” The waitress came by with the coffee and hot water carafes. She refilled Travis’s cup, but I declined more water for my tea.
“Did you uncover anything else in your research?” I asked, catching him with a mouthful of muffin. While I waited for him to finish it, I picked at the second half of mine. I always took a piece home with me and this time would be no exception. They were as filling as steak.
“I don’t know if you’ve already heard this,” he said, “but it seems the guy who monitors the camera for Harkens’ building told police he was called away on a bogus emergency and when he got back, he realized someone had shut down that camera.”
“Do you know the guy’s name?”
“No. The police said he didn’t want to be identified. A smart move on his part. Not so great for those of us in the news business.” He drank his coffee. “Now that you’ve picked my brain, how about a little reciprocity? Anything you can tell me about this quiet little town of yours? Aren’t little towns supposed to have dirty secrets? How about some lurid details that could pump up my ratings?” This time his smile made it all the way to his eyes.
“If there’s any lurid stuff going on around here, no one’s thought to include me,” I said. I was sure Travis would love to hear about the bad blood between Duggan and the victim, but I’d promised to keep the material on the flash disk confidential, unless and until Elise needed it to prove she was not the most likely suspect. I didn’t take that vow lightly and I certainly didn’t know Travis well enough to trust him with such sensitive material. Although I’d made no such promise to my aunt concerning Beverly’s unrequited love for Jim, it felt wrong to put a reporter on her trail when I had no proof she’d done anything more than try to erase him from a photograph. Besides, Tilly had invaded Beverly’s right to privacy in her own home, which made me feel dirty about passing on the information, no matter how much I disliked the woman.
I stole a glance at my watch, thinking I should make my exit while the conversation was easy and before one of us managed to put a foot in a mouth again. I was glad to see it was nearly ten o’clock. Travis wouldn’t think I was making up an excuse to run. In spite of the awkward period we’d muddled through, I wanted to see him again. The heart wants what the heart wants, or more accurately, what the hormones want.
Travis consulted his watch too. “I didn’t realize it was that late. I know you have to go. I’ll take care of things here.” I thanked him and slid out of the booth. “Kailyn,” he said with his off-kilter smile. “I think I enjoyed this. Maybe we can get together again?”
I laughed. “I think that might just be a possibility.”