Don't Forget Me (5 page)

Ninety minutes later, Kit was back in town again, trying to decide if she was happy or depressed. Some of each, as it turned out. At least she had a job, even if it wasn’t what she wanted. And at least the Rose looked interesting. She’d never been in at the beginning with a restaurant before. If what the chef, Joe LeBlanc, had said was true, she might have a chance to do some real managing sooner or later, rather than just working the hostess stand.

She pulled into a parking spot in front of an antiques store a half block down from Allie’s restaurant, Sweet Thing. The sidewalks had their usual collection of blue-haired elderly ladies and families with rambunctious children. Given that the kids frequently came complete with waffle cones or candy apples, the possibilities for disaster were endless.

Kit started toward Sweet Thing a bit gingerly, trying not to collide with either retirees or ten-year-olds, when something flashed at the end of the next block. She glanced up to see what it was.

A couple of Konigsburg cops were standing next to a parked cruiser talking as the sun reflected off their gold badges. One of them was a stranger—blond and apparently very young. Maybe he was a new officer. There had to have been some turnover since she’d been in town last.

The other was familiar. Kit’s heart gave a quick thump as her chest clenched tight.
Very
familiar. Even at a distance she recognized that tall, muscled body, that fall of dark hair. He held his Stetson in his hand, ready to put it on. She caught the quick flash of his teeth as he grinned at something the kid had said. Then he turned in her direction.

She stumbled backward into a doorway, her heart pounding almost painfully.
No, no, no!
She didn’t want to see him the first time like this. She wanted to be ready—controlled, collected, maybe even a little amused.
Oh, hi, Nando. Long time no see.

Right.
Like that was ever even a possibility. She peeked around the edge of the display window at the side of the door, trying to see if he’d spotted her.

He still stood where he had before, although she thought he was still glancing in her direction. Then the kid said something else, and he turned back. After a moment, they both climbed into the cruiser.

Kit pressed a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath.
All right. You’re all right.
She wasn’t, though, not really.

Over him. So over him.

She wanted to be. She needed to be. But now she had to admit it—she wasn’t even close.

Chapter Three

Clayton Delaney made Nando feel like a geriatric case. The kid reminded him of one of those golden retriever pups who’d keep running after thrown sticks until it dropped from exhaustion, only in this case Nando was more likely to drop than Clayton was. He even looked a little like a golden retriever: golden blond hair, shiny white teeth, big brown liquid eyes. Nando half expected him to start panting.

He let Delaney drive the cruiser on patrol. It gave him a chance to rest his eyes while he gave the kid directions around town. Now that he’d consumed a pile of aspirin and a pot of coffee, along with a couple of bottles of water, he felt marginally better.

“How often do we patrol?” Delaney asked. “Do we split the town up into sections or do we all do our thing? I know you’re here to keep an eye on me today, but I’m guessing I’ll be on my own usually. Or do we ride partners?”

Down boy.
Nando rubbed his forehead. “We do it alone. And you can patrol the whole damn town in an hour or so—Konigsburg’s not that big. Turn left here, then left again.”

They glided by the high school and middle school complex, watching the baseball team practice under a canopy of pecan trees. “I used to come here for games when I was in high school,” Delaney exclaimed. He sounded delighted.

Nando sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Only of course he’d usually been playing in those games. “Some places in town you need to drive by regularly, like a couple of times every shift. This is one of them.” He gestured to the bleachers at the side of the football field. “Kids go there to drink beer sometimes, sometimes smoke pot or worse. Occasionally, you’ll get a dealer hanging around. If you come by every once in a while, at unpredictable times, they get the idea that it’s not the best place to try selling anything. Then you need to keep your eyes open for where they head next, but at least you don’t have the parents on your back.”

Delaney’s expression shifted instantly to grave. “Yes sir, I understand. Good plan.”

Nando winced. Being called “sir” didn’t usually bother him, but lately he found reminders of his advanced age sort of annoying. “Kid, I’m twenty-eight and we’re both police officers. Call me Nando, for Christ’s sake.”

“Okay…Nando.” Delaney sounded as if he was trying the name on for size.

Nando directed the kid toward the outskirts of Main. Might as well give him the complete tour.

“So what do I do usually?” Delaney asked. “Check in with the dispatcher, then get the keys for the cruiser?”

Nando nodded, hoping his head would stay on. “Duty roster’s behind Helen’s desk so you can see what shift you’re on and what you’re slated to do. Most of the time, it’s patrol and paperwork unless we’ve got something going on in town. Then you may end up in the city park or directing traffic downtown. Emergency calls come through your radio in the cruiser.”

“And there are only four of us plus the chief?”

“Four of us on full-time, plus a couple of part-timers who fill in any gaps in the schedule and come on full-time whenever we’ve got something that’ll draw a crowd. They also work private security.” Nando could remember when they’d all been part-timers except for Ham. But that was before Toleffson had taken over and turned the Konigsburg cops into an actual police department.

Delaney pulled the cruiser carefully to a stop at the light on Highway 16. “So what do you think of the Chief?”

Nando grimaced. Clearly silence wasn’t a possibility with the kid. “Toleffson saved the town’s ass,” he said flatly. “We had a chief of police, Brody, who was a gold-plated crook. He’d been extorting money from some of the groups who came up here for festivals and shit. Then he tried to steal some antique documents. The woman who owns the bookstore on Main, Docia Kent Toleffson, got all caught up in it without realizing what was going on, and Brody tried to kill her. By the time he took off with the Rangers on his tail, the department was in a shambles.”

Delaney’s eyes were wide. “Was the woman he tried to kill related to Chief Toleffson?”

Nando nodded. “Sister-in-law. The chief wasn’t here then, though, and she wasn’t married to Cal Toleffson yet. There are four Toleffson brothers here in town, plus their wives and kids. You’ll get them all sorted out eventually. The guy who took over as chief after Brody was named Olema. Only he turned out to be a screaming incompetent—a dangerous prisoner escaped from the jail because of him. So the city council fired him, and then they hired Toleffson.”

Delaney shook his head. “Boy, a lot goes on here, doesn’t it?”

Nando sighed. “Yeah, kid, you got that right.” He pointed to a shop on the right as they rolled down Main. “That’s Angels Unaware. The owner’s Margaret Hastings. Brody also attacked her because she saw him committing a burglary. She wound up in the hospital for a while. Also, she dates Ham Linklatter.”

Delaney narrowed his eyes. “So this guy attacked a police officer’s girlfriend and the current chief’s sister-in-law. And he was a cop?”

“He was indeed. That’s Docia Toleffson’s bookstore over there, Kent’s Hill Country Books. Down the street from it, you’ve got one of the best restaurants in town, Brenner’s. Just bring money when you go there.”

“How about that other place?” Delaney nodded toward the Dew Drop.

“Do not eat at the Dew Drop.” Nando rubbed his eyes. “You probably don’t want to drink there either, unless you like warm beer. Got a good dart board, though.”

“No pool?” Delaney rolled to another stop light.

“The Faro is the place to shoot pool. It’s up ahead there on the right. The shop next door, Coffee Delight, has the best coffee in town, bar none, although the Coffee Corral’s okay in a pinch. And the Faro’s got a great cook, Clem Rodriguez. The Faro’s my recommendation for a place to grab a meal and a beer, if you’re looking for one.”

“Is that where the cops go?” Delaney’s eyes were taking on that puppy gleam again.

“That’s where
I
go. The chief doesn’t drink and pretty much eats at home, and Ham’s dating a teetotaler so he doesn’t go anyplace much at the moment. And Helen…” He paused to consider just where Helen might hang out. Probably at the toughest bar in the Hill Country. “I don’t know where Helen goes, but my guess would be Rustlers’ Roost.”

“The biker bar?” Delaney’s voice squeaked slightly.

“Yep. Sounds like Helen’s kind of place.”

Delaney pulled into a parking lot at the other end of Main. “So now what?”

“Now we go back to the station to see if Helen’s caught anything while we were on patrol, along with all the other crap that usually piles up. I can catch up on my paperwork, and you can fill out all the forms that she’s probably got sitting in your mailbox.”

The radio on the dash let out with a burst of static and Nando picked up the mike. “Yeah, Helen, what do you need?”

“Possible break-in at the fairgrounds. Manager’s waiting for you at the gate.”

“Got it.” He tossed the mike back in its holder. “Looks like we’re in luck, kid. They actually need us to be cops this afternoon.”

It wasn’t until she’d finished dinner with Aunt Allie and Wonder Dentist that Kit remembered she was supposed to get back to Deirdre Brandenburg about the barista job at Coffee Delight.

Dinner had had her grinding her teeth, and not from the food. Aunt Allie and Wonder seemed to be carrying on some kind of covert warfare—very polite on the surface, somewhat nasty just underneath.

Finding Deirdre Brandenburg so that she could pass on the news about her new job at the Woodrose would also be a distraction from the chunk of ice that seemed to have settled into her stomach after she’d seen Nando that afternoon.

According to what Allie had said earlier, Deirdre still worked as a barmaid at the Faro some evenings. Apparently, she and the Faro’s owner, Tom Ames, were a couple. Kit figured she’d wander down to the tavern to see if Deirdre was around. Even if she wasn’t, it would give her a chance to get out of the house, away from Allie and Wonder. And besides, she’d never been inside the Faro. When she’d lived in Konigsburg before, it had been a notoriously rough bar that her Aunt Allie had ordered her to avoid. That was one piece of advice from Aunt Allie she’d taken seriously.

The Faro’s customers were still mostly men. Kit fielded the usual speculative glances when she walked in around eight, but she knew how to ignore them by now. She wasn’t in the mood to fend off potential pick-up lines. She took a seat at the bar, midway between the two bartenders.

The one nearest the door looked like he’d been tending a bar all his life—thinning hair, rounded shoulders, an economy of motion that meant he could pour five drafts in quick succession.

The guy at the other end was, well, yummy. Kit took a longer, appreciative look. Short blond hair, broad shoulders, killer grin.

He was currently grinning at Deirdre. Kit did a quick mental headslap. Tom Ames. Had to be.
Oh well.

Deirdre caught sight of her and put her tray back on the bar. “Hey, Kit. I was just talking about you a minute ago.” She slid onto a stool beside her.

Tom Ames looked her way with a slightly guarded smile. Kit wondered what she’d done to earn “guarded” so quickly. She turned back to Deirdre. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be taking the barista job. I found something full-time. I’m sorry—I really like your shop.”

“Where did you end up?” Deirdre pulled a bowl of peanuts between them. “You want a beer? I’ve got an in with the bartender.” She gave Tom Ames one of those dazzling smiles that probably turned his knees to rubber.

Kit shrugged. “A beer sounds good. I found something at the Woodrose Inn. I’ll be managing the restaurant. Sort of.”

“Oh.” Deirdre frowned. “I heard something about them not long ago. I’m not sure what, though.”

“New chef.” Tom put beers in front of them both. “Friend of Clem’s.”

“Oh, right.” Deirdre nodded. “They just hired a new guy. Clem knew him from somewhere she worked before. She says he’s really, really good.”

“I’m not surprised. The Rose is a four-star restaurant. Or it used to be, anyway. Aunt Allie said they’ve had a few problems recently.” Kit took a sip of her beer and tasted something mellow and hoppy, a long way from the thin stuff taverns around here usually had on draft. “This is really good! What is it?”

Tom shrugged. “Microbrew out of San Antonio. Texas still isn’t as far along with artisan brewing as places like Colorado, but they’re trying.”

“What were the problems at the Rose, Tom?” Deirdre frowned. “Do you remember?”

“Chef was a drunk. Plus cocaine. Asshole ran the place into the ground.”