She laughed. 'I do love you, sweetheart.'
'I like that thing you’re wearing.'
'That thing is called a dress. A sundress to be exact, and thank you. I’m glad you like it.'
'Tell me something. If all the men in this town are afraid of you, how come they’re lining up to dance with you?'
'I don’t know' she said. 'maybe because they know no. They don’t ask me to go out on dates though. I think Tommy might be right. I might scare them.'
'That’s good,' he said with smug satisfaction.
'Why?' she asked.
He didn’t answer her question. 'Let’s eat,' he said.
'Viola and Bessie Jean are waving at us. I think they want us to sit with them.'
'Son of a bitch,' Nick hissed.
His reaction startled her. 'I thought you liked them.'
'Not them,' he answered impatiently. 'I just spotted Lonnie. What the hell is he doing here?'
'Do I get to say I told you so?' she asked. She found Lonnie in the crowd, sitting alone on a picnic table, an insolent expression on his face. No one else was sitting at the table, and Laurant noticed several people, obviously nervous around the bully, who were avoiding making eye contact with him.
Nick was searching the crowd for the sheriff. 'I don’t see dear old dad,' he said.
'Oh, I doubt he’s here. He wouldn’t answer your phone calls all day, and the jail was locked up when we stopped by. I think he’s hiding from you, Mr. FBI Agent,' she said.
Nick shook his head. 'I’m going to have to do something about him.'
'You’ll have to find him first.'
'I’m not talking about the sheriff,' he replied. 'I’m going to have to do something about Lonnie. He’s a complication we don’t need now.'
'What can you do?'
Nick draped his arm around Laurant’s shoulders and headed for the buffet that was set up behind the bandstand.
'Noah.'
'Noah’s what you’re going to do?'
'Uh-huh.'
He grinned. 'Lots.'
'Go make Lonnie get off that table first,' she suggested. 'Then we’ll eat. People need places to sit.'
'Okay,' he agreed, but as he turned to the tables, he saw Tommy heading for Lonnie from the opposite direction. He had a spatula in his hand and a look on his face that indicated he wasn’t going to put up with any of Lonnie’s terror tactics today. Noah was busy scooping up burnt hamburgers, but he kept his eye on Tommy while he worked, which explained why two of the hamburgers ended up on the ground. Lonnie’s friends materialized out of nowhere and stood by the table as Tommy approached.
'Shouldn’t you go help my brother?' she asked, the worry there in her tone of voice.
'He can handle himself.'
Lonnie had a cigarette dangling out of his mouth. Tommy said something to him, and Lonnie shook his head, then flicked the cigarette at him. Tommy stepped on it. Then as quick as a blink, he grabbed Lonnie by the scruff of his neck and jerked him off the table.
Lonnie’s hand slipped into his pants pocket, and that’s when Noah came running. So did a good number of the men attending the picnic. They ran to Tommy to help. The show of solidarity infuriated Lonnie, and within seconds, his face had turned purple with rage. Noah shoved his way through the men just as Lonnie pulled the switchblade out. Noah whacked him hard on the wrist with his spatula and tripped him at the same time. Howling in pain, Lonnie dropped the knife. Tommy picked it up and tossed it to Noah, then hauled Lonnie to his feet and ordered him and his friends to leave.
Laurant let out a sigh of relief. As Tommy and Noah headed back to the grill, several men stopped them to shake their hands. One enthusiastic man pounded them on their shoulders.
'Now can we eat?' Nick grabbed two plates, handed one to her,
After they had filled their plates with salads and chips at the buffet table, they joined the Vandermans. The sisters were sitting with the three men who were temporarily living in the house across the street. Bessie Jean scooted closer to Viola so Laurant and Nick could sit on the bench with them.
Viola made the introductions, adding information she’d gleaned from the weary-looking workmen. Two of the men, Mark Hanover and Willie Lakeman, owned farms in northern Iowa and were supplementing their incomes with carpenter jobs. Justin Brady had just purchased his uncle’s land in Nebraska and was diligently trying to pay off the mortgage as soon as possible by picking up extra work. All three men were in their early thirties and all three were wearing wedding rings. The calluses on their hands proved they were hard workers, and the empty cups lined up in front of them proved they were also hard drinkers. Nick leaned his elbows on the table and listened to the three men describing the work at the abbey, all the while sizing them up.
Mark downed a sixteen-ounce plastic cup of beer in two long gulps. Nick understood why the man was drinking so much when Bessie Jean asked him if he had any children.
Mark lowered his gaze to his cup in his hands. 'My wife died last year. We didn’t have any kids. We were waiting until we got some of our bills paid off.'
Viola reached across the table and patted Mark’s hand. 'We’re all terribly sorry about your loss, but you’ve got to get on with your life and try to look to the future. I’m sure your wife would have wanted you to.'
'I know, ma’am,' he replied. 'With the drought, we all have to pick up work whenever we can. I’ve got my parents to look after, and Willie and Justin have families depending on them too.'
Willie pulled out his wallet to show off his family, a redheaded wife and three carrot-topped little girls. Justin wasn’t going to be outdone. He carefully removed the photo of his wife and handed it to Bessie lean.
'Her name’s Kathy,' he said, pride radiating in his voice. 'She’s due to have our first baby August first or thereabouts.'
'Are you expecting a boy or a girl?' Laurant asked.
Justin smiled. 'Kathy and I decided we didn’t want to know. 'We want to be surprised.' Glancing over his shoulder at the bandstand he said, 'Kathy loves to dance. I sure wish she could be here.'
'We’re all putting in fourteen-hour days,' Mark said.
'It’s good money, so none of us mind,' Justin interjected.
'Justin, we haven’t properly thanked you for helping us with our garden,' Viola said. 'As busy as you are, you made time to lend us a hand. I believe I’ll bake you a nice chocolate cake. It’s my specialty.'
'That’s very kind of you, ma’am, but we’re putting in long hours at the abbey, and I won’t be getting home until after dark. I sure do love chocolate cake though.'
Viola beamed. 'Well then, I’m baking you one. I’ll just leave it on your doorstep or put it in your kitchen.'
Mark started talking about all the work they still had to get done before the anniversary. Willie ribbed Justin, teasing him about getting the easy work in the choir loft while they had to climb up and down the scaffolding with their paint cans.
'Hey, I’m doing my part,' Justin said. 'The fumes from the varnish collect in that loft and make me light- headed. That’s why I take more breaks than you guys.'
'At least you’ve got your feet planted on the floor while you’re working. Willie and I are hanging by our necks half the time.'
'What are you doing in the loft?' Laurant asked.
'Tearing out the old, rotting wood and replacing it. There was a lot of water damage around the organ,' he added. 'It’s tedious work, but it’s going to look real nice when I’m finished.'
'How do you like living at the Morrison’s house?' Bessie Jean asked.
'It’s okay,' Mark said, shrugging. 'Justin thought we all should split the chores, so we each took a room to keep clean. It makes it easier.'
Nick devoured two hamburgers while he listened to the conversation. Feinberg had told him that Wesson had already ruled out these three men. He’d run a background check on all of them. They were farmers working as
