YASMIN WASN’T GOING to worry about why Josiah wasn’t at the house. She wasn’t.
Even though his absence kicked up her anxiety big-time.
It was late morning on Tuesday, and Yasmin had just gotten back from driving her mother home to Charleston. Mom was happily settled in with a lunch from her favorite takeout and a plan to go shopping with a neighbor later that afternoon. They’d even had a nice talk on the way down, reminding Yasmin of all the things she loved about her mother—she was well-read, and funny, and had sharp insight into political and social issues of the South.
After letting Rio out to run in the yard, Yasmin sank down on the front step, watching him, thinking absently about her responsibilities.
Out of desperation, she’d taken Claire up on her suggestion that Rocky hang out with her nephews, so she’d dropped him off early that morning with Claire’s parents’ blessing. A discreet phone call while she was in Charleston had reassured Yasmin that Rocky was “a lovely boy” and that all three were having fun in the backyard pool.
So Mom and Rocky were both doing fine, and two out of three wasn’t bad, right? Josiah was probably out walking, or maybe he’d taken an extra shift at the library. Maybe he was doing something related to the kids’ chess club Miss Vi had him helping out with.
He was a grown man. She didn’t need to shadow his every move. She’d promised him she wouldn’t.
She went inside and studied the empty refrigerator—having a teenage boy here meant she needed to grocery shop much more often, she was realizing. She wanted to take care of Rocky, and Josiah too, but she also needed to spend the afternoon getting caught up at work. The women’s center depended on her, and she couldn’t let the clients down.
Her friends wished she were more fun, but how could she be? Fun had never been her forte. Or maybe it could have been, but she hadn’t found the time.
“With great gifts come great responsibilities,” her dad had always told her. Yasmin had been labeled gifted pretty young, and she’d helped to take the burden off her mom. She didn’t expect nurturing.
Didn’t expect happiness, really, not since all the news about the family genes had come into the picture. Now, with Rocky and Josiah to look out for, it had become clear that duty, caring for others, was what it was going to be.
There was no point in grieving something you couldn’t change. She’d go to the diner, treat herself to a comfort-food lunch. She’d sit at the counter and have a chat with Rita if the place wasn’t too busy. Maybe even do a little investigating, because she was pretty sure Rita had been working on the night that Josiah and Rocky had shown up at the center. She’d ask Rita if she’d seen anything.
And then she’d feel more fortified to get back to work.
Josiah was probably fine.
Ten minutes later, she slid into a seat at the counter in the Southern Comfort Café. She waved through the pass-through at the tall, thin cook. “Hey, Abel, what’s good today?”
“Now you know every single thing is good,” he said, his wrinkled face breaking into a wide smile. “But if it was me, I’d get the shrimp and cheese grits.”
“Perfect,” she said as Rita approached with the coffeepot. “I’ll have a big plate.”
“You got it, baby.”
Rita poured coffee to the rim without asking. “How you doing? You know what you want?”
“Shrimp and grits, and I already told Abel,” she said.
Rita leaned a hip against the counter. “You’re making my job easy.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice a little. “Heard your mom was in town.”
“How’d you hear that?” Yasmin took a sip of coffee and considered. “Oh. Eldora?”
Rita nodded. “Me and Norma stopped into the Pig just after you left.” She studied Yasmin’s face. “You doing okay? She still here?”
“Took her back to Charleston this morning.” Yasmin wasn’t thrilled that even Rita, who was relatively new in town, had heard about Yasmin’s mom being difficult. But the sympathy on Rita’s face made her let down her guard. “I love her, but...there’s a little stress to it. Especially for my brother.” As she said the words and thought again about the fact that she didn’t know where Josiah was, anxiety tightened her chest.
“Families.” Some emotion crossed Rita’s face, but it was gone before Yasmin could identify it. “Abel made a couple of chocolate pies, if you need a fix.”
“That’d be great.”
Rita got busy with her other customers, and Yasmin leaned back, trying to relax into the comfort of her town where people knew her and supported her.
Moments later the door opened, and there came Liam, devastatingly handsome in his uniform.
And that was the disadvantage of a small town where everyone knew each other: you couldn’t escape your ex.
Their eyes met as he scanned the room, looking for a place to sit. There was an empty stool next to her at the counter.
He walked past it with a nod to her, like she was an acquaintance he didn’t much want to see, and settled into a seat at the far end, next to Pudge LeFrost.
She didn’t know for sure why he was acting cold, but she had a pretty good guess. Running into Buck at her place last night had probably made him mad. Probably not jealous, not anymore, but just plain mad, because he didn’t like the guy.
A vise tightened around her chest, making it hard to breathe. She’d started thinking Liam liked her and wanted to be with her again, and even though it couldn’t happen, she’d begun to enjoy that specialness without even knowing she was.
Now, when he’d walked right past her without a greeting, the absence of his regard almost choked her.
She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to care. But there was a mirror behind the diner counter, right in front of her. Every time she lifted her eyes, they went directly to Liam.
He’d been angry last night, that much was obvious. He’d glared at Buck like the man was poison, and understandably so. It was her own fault she’d made them into rivals.
The two men she’d treated badly, both together in one house...thinking about it had made her toss and turn all night.
She deserved it, though. Going out with Buck had been a dumb move, but it was the only way she could think of to let Liam know she was through with him, to push him away convincingly when her heart was crying out for him.
She couldn’t tell him the truth about her fears. He was a protector to the core, and would have tried to sacrifice his desire for a family if she couldn’t get over her worries about what she might pass on.
And other excuses wouldn’t work. Men like Liam, alpha males, didn’t buy into the whole “I just need some time,” or “I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” or “I need to find myself.” On some primitive level, to an alpha, women were property. The only way to break up with men like that was to go with another man. Which was why she’d dated Buck in the first place.
But while it had worked, it had made Liam hate her, also thanks to his alpha-male personality. The insult of her throwing him over for someone else was deep, primal.
The relationship with Buck had been brief and meaningless. He’d tried to get her into bed, of course, and for all she knew, he’d told people in town that he’d succeeded. But he hadn’t. She hadn’t been able to tolerate his touch because all she could think of was Liam.
And of course, Buck wouldn’t put up with a platonic dating relationship for long. For that matter, neither could she. They had nothing to talk about, no basis for a friendship. Buck was good-looking and more intelligent than he let on, but he wasn’t a deep thinker. Yasmin had learned long ago not to judge people on smarts; still, she found it hard to relate to a person who didn’t want to learn or grow at all, who never picked up a book or read a newspaper. When she’d tried to confide in him about Josiah’s diagnosis and her own fears, he’d just looked at her blankly and waved her concerns aside.
Their so-called relationship had lasted just long enough to convince Liam to leave her alone, and then they’d ended it with mutual relief.
But that was when it had sunk in, all that she’d lost. The dream of a regular life, of a husband and kids. And not just any husband, but her strong, protective, sexy childhood hero: Liam.
She swiveled in her seat to keep from staring at Liam and studied the yellowed newspaper clippings framed on one wall of the diner. A couple of minor movie stars who’d visited, local sports teams victories, and...where was it? Yes, there was the clipping about her family, back when she was nine and Josiah thirteen. Both she and Josiah had won awards in a national science competition, hence the article. Safe Haven being what it was, the paper had done a whole story about her family, her dad the doctor, her mom “active in civic affairs,” which had been a stretch, but kindly meant.
How far they’d fallen. All that supposed potential had faded into nothing.
Worry for Josiah bloomed in her again. She’d called Miss Vi on the way over, and the woman had said she’d check and see if he was anywhere in the library. But she hadn’t called back, so Yasmin had to assume the answer was no.
Rita put a steaming plate of shrimp and grits in front of her. Her appetite was wavering now, but she lifted her fork and took a bite, and sure enough, it tasted good.
Josiah was probably home. She’d stop by after lunch on her way to the center.
The diner door jingled and opened, and she looked over idly, then did a double take.
Josiah was there, shaking his head, one hand braced against the door. Miss Vi had his other hand and was tugging, trying to get him to come in.
The buzz of conversation in the diner died down a little, enough that everyone probably heard Miss Vi’s stern, clear words: “You worried your sister, young man. The least you can do is let her see that you’re all right.”
Yasmin slid off her stool and hurried over, her face heating at the way Miss Vi was embarrassing a grown man. Josiah deserved to be treated with respect. His mental illness didn’t mean he should be spoken to like a child.
But to her surprise, Josiah gave Miss Vi a sheepish nod and walked into the diner.
“Come on, now,” Miss Vi said, “let’s go sit with your sister and get you something to eat. When was the last time you ate, anyway? You’re nothing but skin and bones. Abel!” she called as she sat down one stool away from Yasmin’s spot. “This young man needs a nourishing meal right away.” She turned to Yasmin. “What did you order?”
“Shrimp and grits,” Yasmin said faintly, and glanced up at Josiah, an apology in her eyes.
To her surprise, his lips were twitching. He sat down on the empty stool between them and folded his hands.
Something in his posture and his smile made her think of their childhood. Josiah had always been Mensa-level smart, but maybe because his mind was on bigger things, he’d disliked the mundane details of selecting clothes and washing dishes and shaving.
Having Miss Vi tell him where to go and what to eat might actually be okay with him, not because he was sick, but because he was Josiah.
Rita clipped an order on the round metal spinner and came over to them. She was smiling, too. “Coffee for you two?”
Miss Vi frowned. “I’ll have coffee with some creamer, but he—” she nodded sideways at Josiah “—he should have some milk.”
“Coffee,” Josiah corrected.
“Two coffees it is, then,” Rita said, and turned toward the coffeepot.
Once they had their coffee in front of them and Miss Vi had ordered eggs and toast, Yasmin propped her cheek on her elbow and looked at Josiah and Miss Vi. “What’s going on, anyway?”
“Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”
Josiah inclined his head slightly toward Miss Vi.
She frowned at him. “Fine, then. He’d worked himself back into one of those old window seats, the ones that are shut off? With a pile of books. Today is early closing day, and we came close to locking him up in the library until tomorrow morning!”
“What were you doing, Joe?” Yasmin asked.
“Research,” he said.
“Research on what?”
“How to disappear, that’s what,” Miss Vi said.
“Disappear?” Yasmin didn’t understand. “Like, some kind of magic trick?” She remembered when Josiah had gone through a magic trick phase, but that was back when he was about ten.
“Disappear as in, get new IDs and anonymous safe-deposit boxes and remove all internet traces of you.”
“What? Joe!” She grabbed his forearm. “You can never do that. Think of how much I’d miss you. Think of Mom!”
Josiah looked at her and something flashed in his eyes. He reached out and patted her arm, looking sorrowful. Then he looked away.
Yasmin’s heart went straight to her throat and stayed there as she stared at her brother. Up until now, while she’d been worried about Joe and what he might have done, there had been a part of her that knew he couldn’t have harmed the man in the car.
Now, suddenly, the weight of evidence shifted. Because why would Josiah want to disappear? He’d always been eccentric, but he liked people and he loved Safe Haven. He was accepted here, admired because of his smarts, his occasional unusualness tolerated.
If he wanted to leave Safe Haven, then maybe he’d done something wrong. It hardly seemed possible, but maybe he’d actually struck the blow that had ended up killing the man in the car.
A deep chill shuddered through Yasmin. She propped her head on her hand and looked sideways at Joe. Was he a killer?
DO IT NOW. Do it!
Rita drew in a breath, picked up the coffeepot and carried it over to the end of the counter. Her hand shook as she refilled Liam’s coffee cup, to the point where she spilled a little onto the table. “I’ll clean that up,” she murmured, and made her escape.
She needed to talk to Liam. When he’d come in today and sat by himself, she’d decided she had to approach him.
Liam was the friendliest of the three O’Dwyer brothers, and the one Rita knew best due to his frequent visits to the diner. Plus, he was in law enforcement, an investigator. He was the most in tune with missing people and crime and foster care, on a professional level.
He was the one she needed to tell about the possibility of her connection to him and his brothers.
She took a couple of more breaths and returned to wipe up the coffee she’d spilled. There’s something I need to discuss with you. No. Do you have a minute later today? No.
She looked at him, opening her mouth to force the words out, and then shut it again. He was staring down the counter to where Yasmin, her brother and Miss Vi from the library were having a serious conversation. Rita looked that way, too, and saw that Yasmin seemed upset. Josiah wore his usual placid expression, and Miss Vi—dear creature that she was—seemed to be in full-on lecture mode.
“Why don’t you go see if she needs any help?” The words were out of Rita’s mouth before she could stop and assess the wisdom of a waitress giving advice to a grown, professional man.
A grown man who might be her son, true, but he didn’t know that. “Sorry,” she said. “Not my business.”
He smiled up at her. “Not a bad idea, though, actually.” He pushed away his blue-plate special half-finished, took another sip of coffee.
The door of the diner opened and Buck Mulligan, one of the other cops and Rita’s least favorite, came in.
Liam’s fist tightened on the napkin he was holding, crumpling it. He glared openly as Mulligan walked over to the group at the counter.
Mulligan brushed back his hair and checked himself in the mirror behind the counter. He thought he was a ladies’ man who appealed to everyone, but the truth was, he was a little too smooth and women saw that, smart women at least.
He approached the group and spoke, low. Yasmin answered, but she looked even more upset, her smile forced.
Liam stood. “Sorry I didn’t drink the coffee. Okay with you if I pay at the register?”
“Sure thing. And I’ll put your coffee in a to-go cup.” She was ashamed of the relief that washed over her. No chance to talk to Liam today; he was in a hurry, involved in other things.
Another day would go by without Rita doing anything to discover the truth about her past. Norma would strangle her.
She needed to make progress, and the huge, obvious step was to do research and interviewing and find out whether the O’Dwyer boys were, indeed, hers. It wouldn’t be an easy conversation and she didn’t expect them to embrace her with open arms. After all, if they were hers, she’d walked out on them.
But she needed to know who she was, and if she’d left three boys as all the evidence suggested, then they needed to know more about their past, as well. It couldn’t have been easy for them to have lost their mother.
Or been abandoned, she thought, criticizing herself. Had she abandoned her children? What kind of woman did that?
Have compassion for yourself, Norma kept telling her. Rita wasn’t the kind of person to abandon a child now, and she probably hadn’t been earlier, either. Something terrible must have happened to cause it.
Although her kids probably wouldn’t see it that way. To a child, abandonment was abandonment.
Liam walked over to the register, right next to where Yasmin’s group was sitting, and Rita followed from behind the counter to run the register. Beyond her own racing thoughts, she was fascinated by the curious drama playing out among the younger people.
Liam nodded at Buck, but the man ignored him and went back to whatever he was saying to Yasmin.
Liam’s mouth tightened and he handed Rita a twenty without looking at her, still watching the conversation unfold. They could hear a few little snatches: need to follow up and a few more questions.
Yasmin looked stressed, talking past Josiah.
Rita could read the indecision on Liam’s face. He wanted to get involved. And it was clear as day he had feelings for Yasmin. But it looked like Mulligan had the upper hand somehow.
Her heart squeezed. She should have known Liam enough to offer advice and counsel, but she’d missed all his growing-up years and she didn’t know what he was like. She had wisdom, but not wisdom he could trust.
She’d missed out on so much. And worse, so had he.
How had he been raised? She knew all three brothers had gone into foster care, separately: how had Liam’s family treated him? Had he felt loved? Pain and sorrow wrapped their tentacles around her and tightened.
She caught a signal from the corner of her eye: Jimmy, frowning at her. It took a minute for her to realize that he was frowning as a boss and not a potential romantic partner. She had customers at the counter.
She waved an apology at him and hurried over to the counter to pour coffee and take orders.
And that was one of the perils of being in a romantic relationship, or sort of, with your boss. Her personal life, her worries about her past, were affecting her work, but she didn’t want to ask for lenience. It would seem like she was getting special favors.
Anyway, the drama unfolding between Liam, Mulligan and Yasmin’s family—who were all arguing, more heatedly now—wasn’t her business. She was just the waitress.
She wrote down orders and brought ketchup and extra cream, served up burgers and fries, poured refills of sweet tea. All of it automatic, robotic, without her usual banter with the customers. She caught Jimmy frowning at her again.
But she couldn’t whip herself into anything but rote workmanship, not today. Not given her shameful feeling that she’d evaded, once again, the truth about herself.