Authors: Mary Burton
"The Third Street Diner is the last place I want to eat. Every local in town will be there on Sunday afternoon." And none would be glad to see her. Not only had she missed her aunt's funeral, but her mother hadn't exactly ingratiated herself to others.
Mitch put the car in Park and shut off the engine. He pulled off his sunglasses and met her gaze. "We'll get a booth in the back. You need to eat, Kelsey." The softness had crept back into his voice.
"Then take me by a convenience store and I'll get crackers and a soda."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You aren't afraid of a few old gossips, are you?"
The challenge in his voice had her lifting her chin. "No. But right now, I don't have the patience to deal with a bunch of yokels who want to remind me that I'm no good, like my mother."
His eyes hardened. "First one that does has to deal with me."
The strength in his voice soothed her nerves. She believed him. She sighed.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said getting out of the car.
As he moved around the front of the Suburban, she climbed out of the vehicle. Her legs felt wobbly and her stomach queasy. It had been a good twenty-four hours since she'd eaten a real meal. And the diner's pancakes were the best.
She closed the car door and glanced up at the diner as Mitch opened the glass front door and waited. She walked past him inside. The smell of burgers greeted her and for a moment, she was transported back in time. She'd eaten breakfast here a lot that last summer. Ruth had never been one for cooking and when Kelsey had started earning money at the scuba center she began treating herself to a hot meal here each day. She'd chosen the diner breakfast because it was cheap, plentiful and saw her through each day.
To their right was a glass display case. On top was the cash register and behind it stood Tammy Fox. Kelsey cringed and slid to Mitch's right, hoping the woman wouldn't notice her. They'd gone to high school together. Tammy had been a cheerleader and Kelsey the misfit foster kid. They'd locked horns from day one.
Tammy pulled down her stained white T-shirt over her pregnant belly as her gaze darted to the sheriff. "Hey, Mitch!"
"Tammy." He sounded formal.
"We saw the police trucks headed toward the quarry. Everything all right?" Tammy said.
Mitch tucked the arm of his sunglasses behind his T-shirt collar. "Nothing we can't handle."
Kelsey was grateful Mitch didn't go into the details. Soon everyone would know that Donna's body had been found and, when they did, she'd have no peace.
Maybe, just maybe, they would get to a table without a lot of conversation or trips down memory lane.
Tammy glanced around Mitch and spotted her. Damn. "Kelsey Warren, is that you?"
Normally, the diner would have been empty about three o'clock in the afternoon, but because it was Sunday, a lot of folks had lingered after lunch. The chatter grew quiet. Kelsey was very aware that everyone was staring.
Kelsey took a small step back and ran into Mitch's rock-hard body. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Her nerves stopped jumping so much.
Tammy's gaze skipped quickly to Mitch's hand and up to Kelsey's eyes. She grinned. Butter could have melted in Tammy's mouth. "I'd heard you were back in town but I didn't see you at the funeral yesterday. I must have missed you in the crowd."
Kelsey wasn't fooled. The cheerleader-turned-cashier was on the hunt. Her gaze slid to Tammy's full stomach. As tempted as she was to shoot back a smart-ass comment, she decided against it. "I was running late."
Mitch picked up a couple of menus. "We'll seat ourselves over in the corner."
"Sounds good. Go ahead," Tammy said.
Kelsey imagined Tammy was running through her list of friends, anxious to tell them that she'd seen Kelsey. Mona Winters would be first.
Mitch captured Kelsey's elbow and led her past the twenty-plus booths to the back. A flurry of whispered conversations ignited as they headed to the back of the diner.
Kelsey slid into the booth, her back to the door, and picked up a menu. No doubt she'd keep the gossips buzzing for months.
"They're not talking about you," Mitch said.
She peered over the edge of her menu and found him staring at her. She shifted on the vinyl bench seat. "You could have fooled me."
"It's the car Stu found. It's stirred quite a bit of questions these last couple of days."
"It's an abandoned car. Don't these people have lives or cable television?"
"The car might have gone unnoticed altogether if Stu hadn't been hit by a car night before last."
Kelsey leaned forward. "Stu was hit by a car? He told me it was a clumsy accident."
"He keeps downplaying it, saying it was a tourist or a teen in a rush."
Her heart beat faster. "What do you think?"
"It was dark and he didn't get any description. I was willing to believe he was right—until today."
"When we found Donna?"
He lowered his voice to correct her. "We found an unidentified body."
She didn't have the energy to argue. Soon his medical tests would prove her right. "So you think someone tried to kill Stu because he'd found the car."
"I don't know. Maybe it's just an odd coincidence. If he'd died, we'd never have found the car."
Tammy set two cups of coffee on the table. "Why, you two look cozy." She pulled a half-used order pad from her pocket and a pencil.
Kelsey sat straighten.
Mitch's jaw tightened.
Tammy seemed to savor the tension. "What can I get you two?"
Mitch nodded to Kelsey to go first. Her stomach rumbled. "Coffee is fine."
"Now don't tell me you are one of those anorexics, Kelsey," Tammy said. "You're pencil-thin."
Kelsey glanced up at Tammy's moon-shaped face. The former cheerleader's sharp cheekbones had long disappeared. She didn't have the energy to toss an insult her way. "No appetite."
"We'll have two number fours," Mitch said. He took Kelsey's menu and handed it to Tammy.
Tammy lingered an extra beat, as if hoping to hear or learn something. But when Mitch lifted a questioning gaze, she lost her nerve and left.
Kelsey sipped her coffee. It tasted bitter, the bottom of the pot.
"Can you tell me about the last time you saw your mother?" Mitch said.
She'd spent so much time trying to forget that day. Yet it took no effort to retrieve it. "It was ten years ago. I was fifteen. We'd been in town a couple of days. Like I said, Donna kept talking about a big score—more money than we could ever dream of. That last night I was watching TV, trying to stay out of Aunt Ruth's way—she didn't like having us in her house and didn't mind telling Donna that. Donna kept talking about the money she'd give Ruth if she just played along for a couple of more days."
Mitch listened, his gaze boring into her.
Kelsey pushed her cup aside. "Anyway, it was past nine in the evening when Donna went out. She was wearing her favorite jeans and black leather vest—the outfit she always wore when she went barhopping. I figured she was going out for a drink. But she never came back."
"You never heard from her again?"
"No. But at first, I figured all her talk of money was just a ploy to buy time with Ruth for a few days. She often took off for days on end. I really thought she'd turn up. That went on for a few months."
Mitch frowned.
Tammy arrived with two plates full of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and grits. She set them on the table. "Anything else?"
Her extra friendly tone was so sweet, Kelsey half expected her to pull up a chair, sit down and join their conversation.
Mitch nixed that. "That's it."
Tammy's smile wavered. She seemed disappointed to leave without the least bit of gossip. "Well, you just holler if you need me." She left.
"You're ruining her day," Kelsey said. "She'll have nothing to tell Mona and Nancy."
He looked surprised and then a faint smile tugged at the edge of his lips. His face softened and he looked all the more handsome. "I keep forgetting you went to high school here."
"Junior and senior year."
"What did you do after you left Grant's Forge?" His gaze was hooded and she desperately wanted to read his mind.
You mean after you figured out I was a virgin and I ran for the hills
? "I just started traveling to wherever I could teach scuba." Her voice sounded so casual, but in truth an old sadness crept into her bones. In self-defense, she dropped her gaze to her plate. "I loved the diner's pancakes."
"I remember."
Warmth spread through her before she awkwardly picked up her fork. She took a bite of the pancakes and discovered they were as good as she remembered. She took a couple more bites, preferring to eat rather than to stroll down memory lane with Mitch.
He took the hint and dug into his meal. They were half finished when several folks shouted a greeting to a new arrival. Kelsey looked up over her shoulder. She saw a tall, silver-haired man in his mid-fifties wearing khakis and a white Polo shirt stroll into the diner. She'd never met the man, but knew him instantly. Boyd Randall. He and his wife Sylvia were local royalty. They were worth more money than Midas and last night, when she couldn't sleep, she'd read in the paper that Boyd had decided to run for the U.S. Senate next year.
Boyd's quick, bright smile flashed as he passed several booths shaking hands and pausing to chat. However, it was quickly clear that he'd come to see Mitch. He strolled over to their booth, pulled up a chair and sat down. He glanced down at Kelsey. His hundred-watt smile vanished. "Kelsey Warren."
Kelsey shifted in her seat, annoyed at his tone. He spoke her name as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Normally, she wasn't so sensitive about slights. But she'd been a raw nerve since she'd arrived at Grant's Forge. "Mr. Randall."
Boyd shifted his gaze to Mitch, completely dismissing her. "Miss Warren, would you excuse us? I got some things to say to the sheriff."
Her body tensed.
Mitch shook his head. "No reason for Kelsey to leave."
Boyd's eyes narrowed. "What I got to say is private."
"If you want to schedule an appointment, I'll be happy to meet with you in private. Right now, we're having a meal."
A muscle in Boyd's jaw jumped. "I hear they found a body in the quarry."
Mitch's expression didn't reveal the first hint of emotion. He set his fork down. "Rumors fly fast."
"I got friends in high places. When the sheriff in my town calls for a Recovery Team, it sends up red flags and I get a call. What's going on?"
"We have found a body," Mitch said. He seemed to gauge each word very carefully. "But we have no idea who it is. The body is on its way to the state coroner's office."
"Any thoughts? Theories?"
"None," Mitch said.
"I have a theory," Kelsey said.
Boyd shifted his gaze to Kelsey. It didn't take higher math to know he wanted her out of town, "This should be rich."
Kelsey didn't blink. "I believe the body is my mother."
Boyd's vivid blue eyes didn't show a hint of shock. "Is that true, Sheriff?"
Annoyance radiated from Mitch's body. "We don't know anything yet."
Boyd leaned closer. Powerful expensive aftershave drifted around them. "Then why does Miss Warren believe the body is her mother?"
"Theories don't mean anything until we have evidence," Mitch said tightly.
"I am right," Kelsey said.
Mitch gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Again, we have no evidence."
Boyd drummed his manicured fingers on the marbled table. "Evidence or not, I want to be kept up to date on every detail of this case. When you have identification, I want a call."
Mitch's jaw tightened. He clearly didn't like Boyd's tone. "I will release information to the public when it's appropriate."
Boyd's eyes narrowed. "You've got a reelection campaign coming up, Mitch. An unsolved murder could be a problem for you."
"No one has said a thing about murder," Mitch said.
"Come on, this is Donna Warren we're talking about," Boyd said. "Most of the people in town hated her enough to kill her."
Kelsey flinched. He was right, but hearing the words hurt.
Mitch looked ready to explode.
Boyd's electric smile returned as if he knew he'd gotten under Mitch's skin. "Don't screw things up with this investigation. And you'd be wise not to mess with
her
kind. Her mother was trash and I'd bet my last dollar she is, too."
Mitch stood so abruptly the plates on the table rattled.
Boyd took a step back.
Kelsey's insides tightened. "Speaking from past experience, Boyd?" she said.
Boyd's lips flattened into a thin line as he glared at her.
Bull's-eye
. "Do us all a favor, Miss Warren, and get out of town." He stalked off.
She tossed her napkin on the table and muttered an oath.
Mitch sat back in his seat. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a talent for getting under your skin."