Head swiveling like a spectator at a ping pong tournament, Adriel watched Lydia rail at Pam, who remained completely oblivious. The diatribe looked like it could go on awhile, and so when Hamlin stepped from the kitchen to call Adriel in for a break, she followed him while keeping an ear on Lydia. She didn’t know what else to do.
“You want this?”
Adriel accepted the sandwich Hamlin held out to her. Keeping a straight face while Lydia resorted to a bout of colorful name calling, she plunked down on one of the stools Hamlin kept handy.
“Stinking dishrag, dirty son of a deer tick’s cousin.” Individually the words Lydia screamed made sense, together they sounded like nonsense.
Sweet relief for her tired feet was the only thing stopping Adriel from marching back out front and putting a stop to the yelling no one else could hear. Well, that and whatever magic substance Hamlin had put in the sandwich. She recognized bacon, tomato, and lettuce, but not the creamy condiment tasting of salt and a smoky spice to complement the bacon.
“What’s in this?”
Hamlin grinned, “I make my own aioli. Eggs, oil, a little salt, and some smoked paprika.”
“It’s really good.” Adriel closed her eyes in appreciation for the food.
***
Hamlin watched Adriel for a long moment before looking away. The way she ate mesmerized him. Chewing slowly and savoring each bite, she made him want to cook a hundred meals with exotic spices and flavors just to watch her eyes flutter closed in an ecstasy of gastronomic delight. His desire bordered on the prurient even though his motive was innocent. Or almost innocent, anyway. He wanted to feed her more than he wanted to touch her. What did that say about him?
Was the way she ate what attracted him to her the most? He wondered. Or was it her undeniable beauty? No, it was more than just looks. It was an electric grace running through her like water seeking a level place to lie.
If he had known there were occasions just like this one, when his thoughts were so precisely focused she could hear them clearly, he would have been mortified.
***
Today the poetry of his musings carried them clearly from his mind to hers, and Adriel felt like a voyeur. Why was it only Hamlin she could read without even trying? Had their near-miss experience opened up some weird channel, or was he just a natural at projecting? Since there was no solid information to work from, she decided to let it go for the time being. Chasing the rabbit down that particular hole would probably only lead to more questions than answers.
Shutting down the connection left Adriel feeling bereft. Though the last thing she wanted was to peek into his mind uninvited, those times when she was able to do so allowed her to feel more like her normal self. Still, being selfish was not fair to him. Forcing her mind away, she refocused her attention on the single-minded enjoyment of the last two bites of her sandwich.
As a result, Adriel never noticed the silence—or the tinkling of the bell as Lydia passed through the door—or Pam entering the room. Consequently, both she and Hamlin jumped when a throat cleared loudly behind them.
Pam gave Hamlin’s shoulder a squeeze. He quickly took the hint, grabbed his plate, and vacated the chair. In a minute, he was back with a second sandwich for his boss. Pam slid into his place at the table and began to eat. There was something odd in her manner. Something Adriel couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Maybe it had to do with Lydia. “Could you tell me about the woman I found?”
“Lydia lived just up past your place. The big house on the left with all the windows.”
Adriel knew the one: red brick with a pitched roof and circular driveway.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” There was no need to ask, given Adriel’s experience with the woman not half an hour ago, but making it a question rather than a statement of fact seemed the right thing to do.
“Yes. Word travels fast in this town; I got the call about her a few minutes ago.” Despite all evidence to the contrary, Pam would miss their verbal sparring sessions. “Her husband, Ed, is a wonderful man. He was the backbone of the community until his heart attack last year. He took to his bed, and she jumped at the chance to usurp his place. She says he asked her to be his eyes and ears, but there’s no way he would ever have authorized the ditch work they’re doing. That’s the dry side of the road, and he has always been very careful not to waste taxpayer dollars. Her death is going to have a huge impact on him. And on our town.” She fiddled with a paper napkin lying next to her plate—folding and unfolding it while she waited for Adriel to say something.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Adriel sensed Pam felt more sadness than she let on.
“Yes, well, I didn’t like her and I never made any secret of the fact. But someone killed her. It’s official; Zack Roman is calling it murder and bringing in the Staties—State Police,” Pam clarified. “Word is he is going to start questioning persons of interest in the case.”
“And you’re afraid you are going to be one of them.”
“No doubt about it. We’ve had some spectacular fights over the years, most of them in public.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of patrons speaking in hushed, but excited tones about Lydia and the ramifications of her untimely passing.
Half an hour after stalking out the first time, Lydia herself returned to take up a seat in the corner of the room where she listened with growing horror to the inevitable escalation of fantasy in the rumors swirling around her death.
She was still there at
