Carla Cassidy - Lethal Lawman

He shoved away thoughts of Grace as he got into his truck. He’d specifically driven it into work today so he could swing by the Roadside Stop and pick up the rocking chair he’d bought the night before.

The thought of seeing Marlene again sparked a new burst of energy through him despite the fact that it had been a long day. As he drove past Chang Li’s he thought about the fact that Marlene had told him she loved Chinese.

On an impulse he turned his truck around and drove into the restaurant parking lot. He was definitely taking a chance, stepping out of his comfort zone. But the truth was he hadn’t been inside a comfort zone for a very long time.

The past three years had been a haze of work and grief and more than a touch of anger and guilt, but the grief had lifted, and for the first time, the desire for a new life, for something different, stirred in his heart.

Twenty minutes later he left the restaurant with two large bags of a variety of dishes. The smell in the cab of the truck was heavenly as he drove on to the Roadside Stop. The scent of sweet-and-sour chicken mingled with beef broccoli stir-fry and egg drop soup.

He knew he was being presumptuous, understood that he ran the possibility of offending her with his little surprise. He only hoped that if his offering ticked her off, she’d at least allow him to grab his rocking chair before she kicked him out of the store.

* * *

Marlene was in the process of locking up the store when Frank’s pickup pulled up in front. She’d wondered as evening approached if he was going to make it here before she closed for the night.

Granted, it was still a few minutes before seven, but the day had been dismally slow and she’d finally decided to close out the register and shut the doors.

She unlocked the door once again and frowned upon seeing Frank’s approach, two large bags in his hands. As he walked in the door she instantly smelled Chang Li’s and she eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s dinner, but it’s not a date,” he said hurriedly. “I just thought I’d share a little Chang Li’s with you to thank you for helping me pick out a rocking chair for my dad.”

He stood just inside the door, looking surprisingly nervous as he waited for her response. She felt as if she should be offended, as if somehow she should be angry that he’d crossed over a boundary, but in truth she was more than a little bit charmed.

He seemed so uncertain, so unlike the take-charge detective she’d known before.

“I suppose it would be a shame for all that food to go to waste,” she replied, rewarded by the smile of relief that lit his features. “Why don’t you take it to the picnic table in the storage room and I’ll go ahead and relock the front door.”

“Great,” he replied and quickly headed for the storeroom as if afraid she might change her mind.

As Marlene relocked the door, she knew somehow that this was a mistake. Even though he’d said it was a simple thank-you for the rocking chair, she knew it was his intent to circumvent her rules about dating.

But the food smelled delicious and there was nothing remotely romantic about eating in the storage room, so she’d give him a pass this time.

Once she got to the back room, he’d unloaded the containers from the plastic bags. “My gosh, it looks like you bought one of everything on the menu,” she said.

“Not quite, but since I didn’t know exactly what you liked I got a little of this and a little of that.” He waited until she sat on the bench and then sat across from her at the wooden table.

“Chopsticks or plastic utensils?” he asked.

“Definitely plastic. As much as I love Chinese food, I’ve never gotten the hang of chopsticks.” She took a paper plate from him and then began to take servings from the waxed boxes in the center of the table. Once she’d filled her plate, he filled his, and then the silence descended.

It was definitely an awkward silence. Marlene had never been good at small talk and apparently Frank suffered from the same affliction.

“Busy day?” he finally asked.

“Unbelievably slow,” she replied. She pulled apart a crab rangoon to make it easier to eat. “Within a couple of weeks or so, the travelers will be out on the roads and tourists will start to pour in. Summer is always our busiest time.”

Once again silence prevailed, a tense, uncomfortable silence that Marlene didn’t know how to break. For too long it had been pounded into her head to speak only when spoken to, to have no opinions of her own. She was just supposed to look pretty and obey.

“We assigned a three-man team today to start searching all the cabins in the mountains to see if your aunt is being held in one of them,” he said.

“I’m sure she’s dead,” Marlene replied flatly. Frank looked at her in stunned surprise. “You’re the only person I’ve said that to. I know Roxy and Sheri still have hopes that she’ll be found alive, but I’m more of a realist than they are.” She gazed into his eyes. “Surely you aren’t going to placate me and tell me you believe she’s still alive after all this time?”

Frank shifted on the bench and dropped his gaze to his plate. “I could tell you that without a body there’s always hope, but the truth is I think you’re probably right.”

She nodded, pleased that he had been truthful with her. “I just know that if she was alive anywhere she would have managed to somehow contact one of us, and that hasn’t happened.”

“Maybe she’s being held in a place where she can’t get word to any of you, like an isolated mountain cabin,” he offered.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But it’s easier for me to believe she’s dead. I’m not one of those hopeless optimists who are too often disappointed. I leave that to Roxy and Sheri.”

“Roxy seems to be exceptionally optimistic about life these days.” Frank took another helping of sweet-and-sour chicken and placed it on his plate.

A whisper of a smile moved Marlene’s lips as she thought of her older sister. “She’s in love. Steve and little Tommy are good for her and I hope they’ll be very happy together.”

“I hear a touch of dubiousness in your voice. You don’t believe in happy marriages?”

“I haven’t had a lot of experiences with them.” It was difficult to think about marriage with him sitting in front of her, so handsome in his black slacks and white shirt and a lightweight black jacket that she knew hid his shoulder holster and gun.

It was so difficult not to feel a sensual pull toward him. The spicy scent of him was far too pleasant; the dark blue of his eyes threatened to pull her into places she didn’t want to go.

“I was raised by a widowed aunt, abandoned by a mother who, as far as I know, never married anyone, and my own marriage definitely left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m just not in a place to believe that it would work for me. What about you?” She much preferred that the topic of conversation be about him rather than her.

She’d also realized that despite the fact that they were seated at a picnic table in a storage room, there was a sense of intimacy that made her even more uncomfortable.

“I definitely believe in the institution of marriage for other people.” Shadows fell in his eyes. “But like you, I feel like I had my chance at it and it didn’t work out.”

“I heard that you’re a widower. Was your wife sick?”

“Yeah, she was.” His eyes shuttered completely, indicating that he wasn’t willing to speak about it anymore. He placed one of the empty cartons into one of the large bags he’d carried in.

“Looks like you’re going to have enough leftovers for another meal,” she said.

“You’re welcome to take whatever is left home with you,” he replied.