think it’s a social time for them.”

“Do they eat the lunch here? At the shelter?”

“Oh, no!”

Her emphatic denial caught his attention, and he looked up from his notebook again, tilting his head to the side in silent question.

“I’m sorry, that probably sounded inhospitable. It’s a service that we can provide due to the number of volunteers. But we’re not equipped to handle hundreds of people coming through to eat lunch. The rules are they must line up in an orderly fashion, move through and pick up a paper lunch bag. They are not allowed to pick and choose what they want, although a large PB is written on the outside of the sack if it contains peanut butter—”

“PB?” Jerking his head up, he pinned his gaze on her.

“Yes… due to nut allergies. Some people love peanut butter, but because of allergies, we have those bags labeled.”

“Please, continue.”

“Once they get their bag and a bottled water, they continue down the sidewalk. We do keep some outdoor trash cans available in case someone decides to eat quickly and throw their trash away.” She rubbed her forehead and sighed. “There are those in the city that hate the lunch bag practice because of the litter, but we’re constantly reminding everyone to put their trash away. The city put extra trash cans across the street at the park, and I believe that has helped.”

He tucked his notebook into his pocket and pinned her with his stare. “There was a paper sack found near Rocky with a plastic baggie containing only a bit of bread crust. There was PB written on the bag.”

Her voice soft, she smiled sadly. “I remember he liked peanut butter. He said it reminded him of home.” She blinked rapidly and looked down at her hands resting on her desk. “That’s when I asked about home… family. And when he told me that he had no living relatives.”

He watched as sadness moved over her face. He was certain Tara Wilson knew everything that happened with the shelter and the residents. Probably feels a lot more than she realizes. “Ms. Wilson, I have several more stops to make this morning, but I’d love to have a chance to talk with you more. Perhaps we could meet for lunch?”

As soon the words left his mouth, he blinked, uncertain where they came from. No, this is good. A chance to question her when she’s not distracted by everything here at the center.

She sat up straighter, meeting his gaze. He was sure she was going to dismiss his offer, but she surprised him. “Actually, lunch away from here would be a novelty for me. I don’t usually get to do that.”

Smiling, he stood and extended his hand. “How about we meet at noon at…” He halted, quickly trying to think of a place they could eat that was both nice, quiet, and not on the typical detectives’ radar.

“How about Sherman’s? It’s a small deli that’s only a few blocks from here,” she suggested.

He smiled and nodded. “Perfect.” She placed her hand in his, and as he wrapped his fingers around hers he felt the warmth from her touch. Dropping her hand, he added, “Ms. Wilson, thank you for your time.”

“I’ll see you at noon, Detective Fiske.”

Walking out of the shelter, he welcomed the cold wind that slapped against his face. Turning his collar up on his jacket, he breathed in deeply, clearing his mind from the fog that had settled ever since she agreed to have lunch with him.

He was almost to his SUV when he observed the pharmaceutical representative standing at her car, the trunk open. He hastened his steps and could see that her trunk was filled with boxes of drug samples. She was placing her satchel between the boxes, but there was not enough room for her to get the lid closed. She flipped open the top of the satchel, and he could see it was empty.

A middle-aged woman hustled down the sidewalk, her nursing scrubs bottoms evident underneath her long coat. She greeted Beth with a wide smile, receiving one in return. “Polly! I’m surprised you weren’t here this morning.”

Beth reached into one of the boxes, and from the angle Carter was observing, he saw her offer the nurse a hug and then hand more pill bottles to the nurse, who dropped them into her large slouchy bag worn across her body. “I gave everything else to Dr. Tiller, but knew you’d need these, too.”

“Oh, thank you. With so many sick now, these will be perfect to hand out.” As soon as the transaction passed, the two women waved goodbye as old friends and the nurse hurried into the clinic.

Beth continued shifting boxes of drug samples around, putting some of them in her satchel to make more room. Slamming the trunk lid closed, she walked to the driver’s door. He walked up the sidewalk, waiting until she had driven away before making his way back to his SUV. He added her to his list of people to investigate. Someone’s getting these drugs into the hands of homeless people without going through proper prescription methods.

9

Tara sat at her desk, unheeding of the files and forms scattered about. Ever since the detective had left her office, her mind continually rolled from her work over to him. Jesus, it’s not even a date! It’s nothing more than a work lunch.

Ignoring the words passing through her head, she reached inside her purse and pulled out a small mirror. She was not vain, but neither did she have false humility. When she was younger, she captured the attention of men fairly easily. Like my sisters do. She smiled. But it had been many years since she cared about catching a man’s eye and was rarely out where it mattered. I’m never looking for a date when at Pirate Ship Pizza!

Tossing her mirror back into her purse, she wrapped her hands around her cell phone. Calling her parents’ house, she was not surprised when Erin answered.

“Hey,

Вы читаете Carter (Hope City Book 2)
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