Small Town Secrets. Sharon Mignerey
glow. Against his better judgment, Zach wondered where she was. Logic dictated it didn’t matter. He wondered, anyway.
Once more, he worked to regain control over his thoughts, closing his eyes and listening for the cattle in the pasture behind the house.
A car door slammed, and Zach opened his eyes. A police car was parked in front of Léa’s house. Dark as it was, Zach recognized the man in uniform heading for her front door. Foley Blue.
Foley rang Léa’s doorbell, then went to the living-room window where he cupped his hands around his eyes to peer in. Zach figured he must realize she wasn’t home since her car wasn’t in the driveway. Foley came off the porch and went around the side of the house. Scant seconds later he returned, the set in his shoulders conveying irritation. He looked up and down the block, his hands on his hips. Then he looked across the street, and Zach knew the instant Foley spotted him.
The cop stood there a minute, then came across the street and up the walk to the house.
“What can I do for you, officer?” Zach said without getting up.
“Just wondered if you had seen my wife this evening.” Foley stepped close to the porch, his face still in shadows.
“Léa, you mean?”
Foley put one foot on the step and leaned an elbow across his knee. “Yeah.”
Glad that Foley had qualified the time frame, Zach shook his head and truthfully said, “Haven’t seen her.”
“And you don’t know where she went.”
“Nope.”
Foley swore. “I told her I’d be by when my shift was over.”
Zach figured that might explain why she was gone. “I’d be happy to let her know you dropped by,” he said blandly. He had no doubt that Foley had tried to get into her house through one of the now-secured windows. The idea of it made Zach seethe.
Foley looked up, his light-colored eyes glittering despite the nearly black shadow he stood in. “You don’t have to do that. She doesn’t need anyone coming around. Not this time of night.”
“No, I don’t suppose she does,” Zach agreed.
“You sitting out here in the dark for a reason?”
“Just getting a little fresh air before I turn in.” He managed to keep his voice rock-steady, though the question rankled. Telling Léa’s ex that it was none of his business would likely cause trouble, the one thing Zach was determined to avoid.
“Uh-huh.” Foley shifted from one foot to another. “Well, then, I’ll leave you to it.” With that, he turned around and headed down the walk toward his car without so much as a good night.
FIVE
“Hi, Gram.” Léa kissed her grandmother’s cheek, then said hi to the others sitting in the dining room of the nursing home. Frank Morris had looked a hundred years old since her first memories of him as a child. Alice Parker had broken her hip several months ago and was finally well enough to come to the dining room in a wheelchair.
“I think my eyes are deceiving me,” Frank said, his wizened face creased into a wide, toothless grin. “It’s the prettiest girl in town.”
“Get yourself a chair,” Alice said to Léa. “And ignore this old coot.” She patted Gram’s arm. “Nothing like a man making a fool of himself.”
Gram smiled, and Frank laughed.
“After all this time, you’d think he’d have something original to say,” Alice continued while Léa retrieved an unused chair from a nearby table. “He’s buttering you up because he hopes you brought us dessert.”
“Did you?” Frank asked, his voice hopeful as a little boy’s.
“I had to check with the cook—”
“Who has more rules about what we can eat,” he said, “than Carter has Little Liver Pills.”
Léa grinned and pulled a round tin out of her totebag. “She thought these might be okay.”
“Well, open it, dear,” Alice said while Frank folded his arms over his bony chest.
“Are peanut butter cookies okay?” Léa opened the tin and held it out to her grandmother.
Smiling, Gram took one from the box, and Léa wished she’d say something. Her grandmother could talk, but hated the slurring of her speech caused by her stroke. She lifted the cookie in a silent salute, and Léa passed the cookie tin to Frank.
“Got any good gossip for us?” Alice asked.
When the cookies came back to her, Léa took one and pretended to think. She supposed she’d be eager for news, too, if she were cooped up. “Hank Miller’s daughter made the dean’s list last quarter.”
“That’s old news,” Alice said. “You’re not paying attention at that café of yours.”
Léa smiled and didn’t bother telling her that it was hard to hear over the sounds of cooking and the din of conversation.
“I heard they brought up another oil well on Sadie Graff’s land.” Frank dunked his cookie into his coffee, ignoring that most of it disintegrated into the liquid. “Some people have all the luck.”
“I heard her nephew is a good-looking man who’s already been to your place for breakfast,” Alice said. “That’s much more interesting than Hank Miller’s smart daughter. So, what’s he like?”
“Well.” Léa drew out the word, doing her best to build anticipation and providing herself time to decide what to say about Zach. Given the way the man had occupied her thoughts a good part of the day, the less she said, the better. “He’s nice.”
“Nice?” Alice patted Léa’s hand. “Dear, you can do better than that. Mavis said that Kim told her that he’s smashing.”
“Hot is what she’s trying to say,” Frank said.
“If I had meant hot, that’s what I would have said,” Alice returned.
“If you’d watch something besides The Price is Right on TV, you’d know nobody has said smashing since 1958.”
“Oh, eat your cookie, you old—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Frank took another cookie from the tin and waved it at Alice. “Don’t say anything you’ll have to apologize for later.”
Léa laughed. The arguments between the two were ongoing and familiar.
“What does Sadie’s nephew look like?” Alice asked, turning her back on Frank.
“Trouble,” came a man’s voice from behind Gram.
Léa looked up and into the eyes of her ex-husband who was still dressed in his police uniform.
“And trouble is what he’ll have if he doesn’t stay away from you,” Foley said, his usual smile in place. He gestured toward Léa with his palms out in a playful come-here-baby way. “Now’s your chance to say yes.”
Léa assumed he was referring to his nearly daily marriage proposals, but even if it was something else, she had only one answer for him. “No.”
He managed to look crestfallen as he leaned down and dropped a casual kiss on Gram’s cheek. “Nice to see you, Eleanor.”
“What brings an officer of the law here?” Frank winked at Foley as though sharing some private joke. “No felons around here.”
Alice snorted. “Officer of the law. Now who’s been watching too much television? He’s a cop, Frank, pure and simple.”
“Policeman,” Frank said.
“I just got off duty,” Foley