Calculated Risk. Janie Crouch
true. It was the least she could do given that they’d basically allowed her to set up camp here. Tanner had told her to put it on his tab, but there was no way she was doing that. “The kids have been fed, and if you’ve got an office or somewhere we can sit them, I’ll keep an eye on them while I wait or bus tables or whatever you need. Consider it payment for today’s room and board.”
Both Dan and Cheryl were shaking their heads no, communicating silently with each other, and she thought they weren’t going to let her. She didn’t blame them—they didn’t know her at all. But Cheryl opened the door off the back of the kitchen to a small office. “If you don’t mind, we can definitely use your help. Dan and I are getting too old for rushes like this alone. But you’re definitely going to get paid. That’s not negotiable.”
“I sort of lost my purse. I don’t really have stuff for tax purposes.” She didn’t like lying to them, but the less they knew about her, the better.
Dan tossed her an apron. “We’ll worry about Uncle Sam later. Right now, get those young’uns stashed away and let’s get these tourists fed.”
Eight days after watching Bree drive away, Tanner walked from the department’s office over to the Sunrise Diner. His body nearly dragged with exhaustion. He wanted a good meal and fifteen hours of sleep in his own bed, as soon as possible.
He’d spent the last eight days working almost nonstop on an interstate task force a couple hours away, in a town only slightly larger than Risk Peak, combating a rising gang problem plaguing Colorado more and more. Tanner didn’t mind helping out, even though he’d never be able to put in for all the overtime hours he’d worked.
The way he saw it, stopping these types of criminal situations before they made it to Risk Peak was worth the extra hours.
And the hours had been hell. As he and his fellow law enforcement officers had moved in for arrests after days and multiple sleepless nights of undercover work and observation, one of the suspects had grabbed a preteen boy—skinny and terrified—as a human shield. Before Tanner could even talk the perp down, he’d stabbed the kid and run.
They’d caught the guy, but someone way too young and completely innocent had paid the price.
The overall outcome had been heralded a success. The gang had been broken up before it could take root in the community. But none of the men and women working the case had felt like celebrating. They’d driven out a criminal element, but not in time to save the life of that one boy.
Tanner knew it could happen in any town at any time. He was willing to volunteer hours to keep the front lines away from Risk Peak. Because if he didn’t fight it when he could, it might end up being some kid from here in the morgue.
He walked down the streets he’d been walking his whole life. These people were his to protect, and he took that very seriously, just like his father had.
He was looking forward to a meal with friendly faces and people dropping by his table just to say hello. Today he would not be taking for granted that there was always tomorrow to chat.
But inside the Sunrise, everybody seemed too busy to pay him much attention. The diner wasn’t particularly full even though it was nearly dinner, but everyone seemed preoccupied.
A couple of people gave him a little wave, but nobody came over to talk to him. He rubbed his fingers against his tired eyes, then down his cheeks that definitely needed a shave again. He was being too sensitive. Exhaustion could blow a lot of things out of proportion.
But why the hell were five people huddled around the back corner booth—including Mrs. Andrews? He couldn’t recall her sitting down during a dinner shift his entire life.
Judy Marshall, who’d gone to school with Tanner’s younger sister, brought his normal cup of coffee over to his table. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”
“Yeah, I’ve been working over in Pueblo County helping out with a gang issue. I’m ready to sleep for a week. I’ll just have whatever’s on special.”
“Sounds good. I’ll get Mr. A started on it for you.”
“Is Mrs. A feeling all right? Why is she sitting in the booth rather than working? That’s not like her.”
Judy rolled her eyes. “She finally found something she loves more than Mr. Andrews and the Sunrise. Not that I can blame her.”
Tanner raised an eyebrow. The older woman might have found someone she loved more than her husband, but more than this diner? No way.
Whatever was causing the commotion over in the corner, it definitely had everyone’s attention. He was too tired to worry about it. Nobody was hurt or breaking the law, so he was just going to sit and enjoy his meal and get home.
That resolution lasted about two minutes.
He grabbed his coffee and started making his way toward the corner booth, to see for himself what the fuss was about. He wasn’t quite there when he heard a baby’s muffled cry. That would explain it.
And it immediately made him think of Bree. She hadn’t been far from his mind all week. Was she all right? Had she and the babies made it safely to wherever they were going?
The chances of him ever knowing were slim to none.
He caught Mrs. A’s gaze and gave her a little salute with his coffee cup. Then the woman uncharacteristically shifted her eyes to the side and down. If Tanner had been interrogating a suspect, he would’ve taken it as an indication that the perp was hiding something. Acting suspiciously.
Exhaustion was definitely clouding his judgment. The Andrewses were as straightforward and honest as people came. And Mrs. Andrews wasn’t someone who hid her actions from anyone. Other people’s opinions had never concerned her.
He shrugged it off and was turning back to the table when a second cry joined the first. Even louder.
That set of pipes Tanner recognized. He immediately spun back toward the booth, marching all the way to the edge. Sure enough, there they were. Twins.
He didn’t know a lot about babies, but he was willing to bet these were Bree’s. He looked around but didn’t see her anywhere.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on, Mrs. A?”
The older woman raised a single eyebrow. “I’ve got a couple of infants here crying. It happens. You cried quite a bit too when you were this age, if I recall.”
Tanner just studied her. Overfamiliarity was an issue from time to time, since he’d known most of the people in Risk Peak his entire life. Generally, Tanner used it to his advantage.
But today it wasn’t going to be so easy.
“I have no problem with babies crying,” he finally answered evenly. “I’m fairly certain they’re not doing anything against the law. Where is their mother?”
Because she, he wasn’t so certain about.
“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure right at this moment.” Mrs. A shifted the baby in her arms and wiggled a pacifier in its mouth until it latched on and stopped crying. Across from her, Glenda Manning, who had a couple of teenage children of her own, cooed at the baby she was bouncing.
“Whose children are these, Cheryl?” He didn’t take the use of her first name lightly.
Neither did she. “Why do you care, Tanner?”
One of the women sitting across from Mrs. Andrews looked like she might speak up, but was given the stink eye so quickly she abruptly looked away.
Why would Mrs. A be making such a big deal out of this if Bree wasn’t in more trouble? Why wouldn’t the older woman just say they were holding