He frowns at the thought. And if it were possible for someone to grow that much more handsome while making a sour face, he just accomplished the feat.
“No, you wouldn’t have.” He comes shy of winking. “She’s here.” He downright glowers at the near mention of Hilary. “She says she wants to learn the craft of writing. I’m giving her a few pointers.”
“Nice,” I muse. “I’m sure she’s giving you a few pointers—on how to seal the deal. Newsflash: as your fiancée, I wholeheartedly don’t approve. She’s making a monkey out of me and I don’t like it.”
“I thought we had your blessing?” he teases and it only infuriates me more.
“Well, I’ve taken it back.”
A brief smile infiltrates the ranks and breaks out over his face.
“I’ll deal with her. But that’s not why I’m here. Bowie, you mentioned that you needed to communicate with your father.”
I close my eyes a good long time. “It’s as if I’ve died and left everyone and everything behind. This is a surreal existence. One I wouldn’t wish upon anybody.”
“I know.” He reaches across the counter and taps his hand gently over mine. “But I have a proposition for you. I want you to think about it before you say yes.”
“Do I look flighty and impulsive to you? Don’t answer that. Go on.”
“Since I’ve visited with him before, it will be easy to get me as an approved number. I’m talking about a phone call.”
“Yes!” I shout it out with zeal without meaning to and half the patrons, along with good old Hil, look this way. “Please, Shep. I’m begging you to make this happen,” I whisper with fevered delight.
“I’ll try. I’ll have to get my ducks in a row first. I’ll be documented as the recipient of that call, but I’m fine with it. And my information registered with the prison is from an old Connecticut address I once had, which is good. We want as few links to Starry Falls—to you, as possible. Now, another option which is far less invasive would be that I talk to him myself and tell him you’re fine.”
I shake my head. “He won’t believe you. Not deep down. Shep, we need to do this asap. Those boys he’s called out to look for me are equivalent to starving dogs chasing down a bloody steak. It’s only a matter of time before they get their meal, and guess who’s the dead meat in this scenario?”
He takes a breath. “Not you.” The muscles in his jaw tense as if the thought made him angry. “You’re going to be fine.”
The door to the café swings open, and in strides a big, beefy, bald deputy who eases into a giant grin once he spots us.
“Well, if it isn’t Wexler the writer.” He belts out a laugh as Shep turns his way, and soon the two men are hugging it out with manly slaps to the back.
“Lloyd, how’s it going?” Shep looks momentarily perplexed. “You’re not here to see Hilary, are you? She’s over there in the back.” He hitches his thumb in that direction, and I glance over at the hussy in question in time to see her sinking in her seat.
It’s almost as if she’s trying to hide from the guy.
Why on earth would she not want to be spotted?
Most likely she’s embarrassed. As she should be. She’s been going after a man who is for all practical purposes hitched.
She’s a home-wrecker. All home-wreckers should be more than a little mortified that they’ve allowed themselves to stoop so low.
“Nope.” Lloyd glances in Hilary’s direction and knits his brows as if he wasn’t impressed with her presence. That makes two of us. “I had to run by and check on my aunt. She’s still here in the falls. And while I was out and about, I remembered someone mentioning you liked to bury your nose in a book—your own book, down at the local café.”
“I am easy to find.” Shep shoots me a look that suggests I might want to rethink using him as a go-between for my father and me. But that’s not going to happen.
One in the hand is worth two in the imaginary bush.
Whether I like it or not, Shep is my only link to my father.
Shep folds his arms across his chest as he examines his buddy. “Well, how about dinner?”
Lloyd glances at the menu and winces. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Not here.” Shep elbows him on the arm. “I wouldn’t do that to you. We’ve got a steakhouse near the falls. A nice restaurant. My treat.”
“Wow,” I say it a touch too loud without meaning to. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Lloyd bucks with a short-lived laugh. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”
“And I’m sure he did.” I look to Shep. “Don’t worry, Hot Buns. Give it a few weeks and we’ll have a whole new menu. You’ll be proud to have your out-of-town guests dine right here with you.”
Shep gives a wistful shake of the head. “With you in charge, Kitten, I don’t doubt it.”
Aw, did he just call me Kitten? Why do I feel as if I’ve just been given an upgrade in the nickname department?
Lloyd shifts as if to get a better look at Hilary. “What about Hil?”
Shep glances that way as well. “She’s got somewhere she needs to be, a knitting group.”
Lloyd ticks his head to the side. “Thank God for small mercies.”
They share a rumbling laugh on the psychotic’s behalf and I’d join them on the effort, but I just so happen to be heading to the very same knitting group.
Rats.
It’s as if I can’t escape her.
“It was nice seeing you again, Lloyd.” I flash a warm, yet brief, smile his way. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
He closes his eyes a moment. “Craig was a good guy. He had a lot of good days left in front of him.”
A thought comes to me.
