Twists and Tears (Hawg Heaven Cozy Mysteries Book 5) Page 4

  Rossalyn slipped into her most comfortable flannel nightie, brushed her teeth and slid under the covers. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she spotted a glimmer of gold on the nightstand, and, remembering that Ryan had said he’d found her necklace, she sat up, curious. She reached over and plucked up the shimmering piece of jewelry, not really noticing what it looked like, in her current sleepy state, until she held it in front of her eyes, which shot open as wide as they could go at the sight of the necklace.

  The thick gold chain was clasped together, and was so carefully polished that it looked like it was new. Ryan must’ve cleaned it up when he brought it inside. A tiny square locket hung from the chain, and Rossie’s hands trembled as she opened it. Her picture was in one side, Ryan’s was in the other.

  “It can’t be,” she whispered, adrenaline slamming through her, her heart tripping over itself.

  “It’s not possible,” she dangled it in front of her eyes and gently snapped it shut, turning it over so that the slick, shiny surface of the back was visible. On the back were two initials: WC.

  It really was the chain that her long-dead husband used to wear around his neck. He’d had it on when he left for Afghanistan the last time.

  “But how?” she whispered, the tears beginning to flow.

  She enclosed the locket in one fist and brought it to her heart, her tears turning into sobs.

  “I miss you so much, Will. I just don’t know what to do,” she murmured, clutching the locket in both hands as bitter sobs wracked her body. She eventually succumbed to sleep, her chest hitching in the aftermath, with the gold locket clenched hard in one fist.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  Rossalyn was shocked to see that there were two lines in front of Hawg Heaven when she showed up the next morning. One was the line to be seated for breakfast, which wouldn’t move for at least half an hour—if she opened early—and the other was a small gathering of job applicants. Greeting as many people as she could, Rossie told the customers that she’d open the doors as soon as she could get enough coffee going, but that they’d have to wait a bit for food, and she told the job applicants that she’d be out momentarily with forms for them to fill out. It was already a busy morning, and she hadn’t even set foot inside yet.

  Still rattled by the reappearance of her late husband’s jewelry, which had disappeared with him, she welcomed the distraction. She hadn’t said anything about the necklace to Ryan, not knowing precisely what to say. Quickly handing out forms to the prospective employees, Rossalyn hustled back inside, helping Garrett make numerous pots of piping hot, rich, dark coffee, while José chopped and diced for his prep work. She let Garrett handle seating and serving while she gathered applications and met with prospective workers. First in line was a young lady named Ashley Martin, who had a sunny disposition and a beautiful smile.

  “Good morning, Ashley. Thanks for coming in today,” Rossalyn greeted her.

  “It’s a pleasure to be here. I used to work in this building when it was a chocolate shop. It was my first job ever.”

  “Oh man, I don’t think I could’ve avoided that kind of temptation,” Rossie grinned.

  “We didn’t have to. We could only keep the chocolates on the shelf for a certain number of days before we had to pull them, and when they expired, the boss let us take them home. I used to just watch and wait for the dark chocolate salted caramels to expire. I’d take them home and put them in the freezer. I had chocolate for almost a year after the shop closed down.”

  “We pretty much do the same thing. When perfectly good food doesn’t sell, we either take it home or donate it. The soup kitchen in town loves our day-old cornbread,” Rossie smiled and looked down at the application.

  “So, you work at the pizza place here in town?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m the kitchen supervisor, but half the time the high school kids who are supposed to be cooking and serving don’t show up, so I have to do everything and it’s exhausting. I have a three-year-old little girl, who’s the cutest little button you’d ever want to see, and I’d like to be at home with her more.”

  “I totally understand that,” Rossalyn nodded. “What kind of hours are you looking for?”

  “Anything you can give me, to be honest. I have to do something different. Just between you and me, I think that the pizza place doesn’t have long in this town. Business has been off, other than on Friday nights,” Ashley confided in a low voice.

  “Oh, that’s a shame, I love their pizza.”

  “Thank you, I make it myself,” the young woman grinned, making Rossalyn chuckle.

  They went through the rest of the interview, and while Rossalyn was thoroughly impressed, she had a very long line of waiting applicants, so she told Ashley that she’d let her know. The next applicant was a familiar face, but Rossie couldn’t figure out why, until she heard the raspy voice.

  “I know I’ve met you before,” she told the woman apologetically. “I just can’t for the life of me remember where.”

  “Melba. Melba Rogers. We met that day that the Hollywood dandy was here eating your food in front of all of America,” she laughed.

  “Yes, of course!” Rossie remembered. “Well, it’s lovely to see you again.”

  “You too,” Melba nodded. “I have a chicken farm over in the next county, but I have workers who run things out there, so there isn’t much for me to do. I’ve always been a good cook—used to teach home ec at the high school before they went and defunded that type of class. When I saw that you were hiring, I thought I’d come throw my hat in the ring. I like the décor, I love the food, and I think I’d fit in pretty well here.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful to hear. What kind of hours are you needing?”

  “Whatever you can give me. I just want to feel productive again,” Melba shrugged.

  “I’m so glad you stopped by,” Rossalyn shook the woman’s heavily-calloused hand. “I have about a thousand other folks to interview today, and then I’ll be letting people know.”

  “Sounds good,” Melba smiled. “Mind if I stop for a meal while I’m here?”

  “You may have to wait a while to get seated, but sure, enjoy yourself.”

  “That I will,” Melba’s eyes lingered on Rossie’s in a way that made her feel just a tiny bit uncomfortable, but she couldn’t figure out why.

  She interviewed fourteen other job applicants, and by the time Rossie finally emerged from her office, she was exhausted and expected to find the café in a barely controlled state of chaos. Poor José and Garrett had had to weather the breakfast rush and the lunch rush without her. Imagine her surprise when she came out to a dining area full of happy customers, and an orderly line of folks waiting to be seated.

  “José,” Rossalyn began, bursting through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. “How on earth are you guys handling this so well? I’m so proud of you.”

  José grinned ear to ear. “Thanks, but it’s not just us. That new girl you hired is amazing. She just took charge of the dining room and has been running it all day.”

  Rossie stared at him, open-mouthed, for a moment. “José, I haven’t hired anyone. What are you talking about?”

  The smile disappeared and he raised his spatula uncertainly, pointing it toward the serving window. Rossalyn followed the line of the spatula and saw Ashley Martin waving to her from the other side, her smile as bright as ever. The baffled owner looked back at José, who shrugged and raised his eyebrows, then headed for the service area behind the main counter, where Ashley was busy refilling coffees.

  “Ashley… can I talk to you for a moment?” Rossie asked, not knowing how to feel at the moment.

  “Sure, hold on just a second. Let me get Mr. Fields his wheat toast and I’ll be right there,” the young woman promised sweetly, leaving Rossalyn dumbfounded.

  “I’ll be in my office,” Rossie replied and headed in that direction, feeling a bit dazed.

  Ashley popped her head i
nside the door and knocked on the doorframe to get Rossie’s attention.

  “Come in,” Rossie closed down her computer and waited for the pleasant blonde to sit across from her. “Did I give you the impression, in any way, that you had been hired?” she asked.

  “Oh, no, ma’am. I just saw that José and Garrett needed help while you were in the back, so I thought I’d pitch in. I don’t expect you to pay me or anything, although I wouldn’t mind if you let me keep the tips,” she giggled. “I was just being a good neighbor. I know you’re new here, so I thought I’d lend a hand. You’re not mad, are you?” her eyes grew round at the thought.

  Rossalyn stared at the young woman for a moment, then laughed. “No, I’m not mad, and Ashley, if you can run a dining area like that all the time, honey, you are hired.”

  “Really?” the beautiful smile was back.

  “I love your attitude and work ethic. Absolutely. You can start right now if you’d like, and I’ll pay you for the work you’ve already done.”

  “Oh wow, this is awesome!! Thank you, Ms. Channing! I won’t let you down, I promise. I’ve gotta tell my boss that I’m leaving. Is it okay if I work part-time here until he finds somebody to replace me?”

  “Of course, just let me know when you’re available,” Rossie nodded.

  “Oh, I will. Thank you ma’am! I’d better get back out there,” Ashley rose to go.

  “Oh and Ashley?” Rossalyn’s voice stopped her on her way to the door.

  “Yes ma’am?”

  “Thank you for helping out today. I really appreciate it. Welcome to the team.”

  “Glad to be here,” Ashley replied, ducking out the door with a breezy wave.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Rossalyn had pushed the mysterious appearance of her late husband’s gold locket to the back of her mind. She’d had too much to do and too many things to think about to dwell on it, and the reality was that dwelling on it might not just make her sad, it might push her over the edge. Things were still crazy busy at work, and she’d decided to hire Melba Rogers as well as Ashley, so that everyone would be able to have a couple of days off each week. She’d been on the go from early morning until night every day, and while the tough schedule meant that business was booming, it was wearing on her.

  Ryan was in his room playing video games, Barney snoozing at his side, and Rossie sat curled up on the couch in front of the television with a glass of wine. She sipped it slowly, only allowing herself one, knowing that she had to be up early. A soft knock sounded at the door and the dark red liquid nearly sloshed over the rim when Rossalyn jumped at the sound. Moving silently to the peephole, she went weak with relief when she saw the rugged figure of Tom Hundman on the other side.

  “Hey, neighbor,” she answered the door, having had just enough wine to be able to talk to the rather intimidating biker without blushing. “Come on in.”

  His eyes searched her face for a moment, and his expression was grave. “Thanks.”

  “Can I get you a glass of wine? I can’t have more than one or I’ll be asleep in a heartbeat,” she smiled, raising the glass that she’d carried with her to the door.

  “Yeah, sure,” he nodded, without even the ghost of a smile.

  His behavior was somehow odd, and Rossalyn wondered what was behind it, but went to the kitchen to pour him a glass, leading him to the couch.

  “Everything okay?” she asked, curiosity killing her. Tom was often gruff, but she’d never seen him quiet like this. It was ominous somehow.

  Tom shook his head slightly and stared at the wine in his glass. “I think I saw him.”

  Rossie frowned and took a sip. “Saw whom?”

  “The guy who’s been stalking you. It was just after sunset tonight. I heard that obnoxious squeaky hinge on your garage door groan a little bit, and came out onto my back porch. When I didn’t see your car, I walked over to see if maybe it was the kid. Thought I could help him open it if he was having trouble. As soon as I stepped into your back yard, I just barely caught a glimpse of someone disappearing into the bushes by your house. I tried to catch him, but it was like he just… disappeared,” Tom raised his glass and took a sizeable swig, licking his lips afterward.

  Rossie’s eyes went wide. “You saw him? What did he look like?” she clutched her glass.

  “It was dark, so it was hard to say. Average height, but on the tall side, strong build, shoulder-length hair,” Tom shrugged. “Moved fast. Way too fast for me. I checked out the garage after he lost me, and the squeaky hinge was fixed.”

  “Oh gosh… do you think he fixed it so that he could wait in there for me?” Rossie’s heart pounded.

  “I don’t know what to think anymore. Guy looked familiar somehow, but without details, I couldn’t place him. Sorry,” the biker’s eyes held an expression that she’d never seen from him before, and she couldn’t look away.

  “Don’t be sorry,” she murmured, unaware that she was leaning closer.

  “Hey Mom,” Ryan came bounding down the stairs just then, greeting his favorite neighbor when he saw him. “Oh, hey, Mr. Hundman. Mom, Dylan just called me from a neighbor’s house. He said his mom is kinda freaking out. She’s like burning his dad’s clothes in a bonfire and stuff and he wants to know if he can stay with us tonight.”

  “Oh my,” Rossalyn’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Well, there’s no school tomorrow, so I suppose that’s okay, but I’d like to go over and talk to his mother first. Sounds like she may need someone to talk to,” she worried.

  “I haven’t had but a sip of this. I can drive you if you’d like,” Tom offered.

  “Perfect,” Rossie agreed, relieved that there would be another rational and, if necessary, strong adult on the scene.

  She wondered at Mrs. Carnes’s strange behavior, and hoped that her boys were safe. Dylan’s older brother Seth was almost never home, and at six feet, four inches, he was more than capable of taking care of himself, despite his lean frame. It sounded like Dylan might need a safe haven for a bit while his mother dealt with her grief.

  Tom dropped Ryan and Barney off at Dylan’s neighbor’s house, so that the boys could hang out a safe distance away while Rossie talked to Elsa Carnes. The two of them were silent on the trip to the Carnes farm, but when Tom pulled into the overgrown lane and rounded the bend, catching sight of the house, Rossie exclaimed in surprise.

  “Huh,” she breathed, not knowing what to think of the sight that greeted them.

  Morgan Tyler’s patrol car was there, and the officer stood talking to two women, whose features Rossie couldn’t quite make out in the dark. A bonfire was burning brightly in the weed-filled front yard of the farmhouse, and there were clothes, shoes, and miscellaneous items scattered around.

  “Looks like she snapped,” Tom observed. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  Rossalyn nodded. “Yeah, I’m thinking that it’s probably a good idea to have Dylan stay with us tonight.”

  “Do you always do the right thing?” the biker asked, admiring the strong woman in front of him.

  “No, but I always try,” she replied absently, staring at the fire. “Ready?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  They approached the officer and the two women, and as Rossie got closer, she saw that the woman with Elsa was a familiar face, Melba Rogers.

  “Hey all,” Rossalyn greeted them, noting the tense look on Morgan Tyler’s face and wondering whether it was because of Elsa’s situation or because she’d shown up with Tom Hundman at her side.

  “Rossalyn,” Melba nodded with a faint smile, Elsa stared at her blankly, and Morgan looked irritated.

  “Look, if you two would give us some privacy, I’m in the middle of an investigation here, and…” the officer began.

  Rossie held up her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to let Elsa know that Ryan would like for Dylan to spend the night tonight,” she turned her attention to the weary woman, whose eyes seemed out of
focus, wild hairs springing from her thin greyish ponytail. “Is that okay, Elsa? Can I take Dylan home with me for tonight?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t care where he sleeps,” Elsa said dully. “I ain’t gonna be gettin’ no sleep. Somebody might just come up and kill me in my bed.”

  Melba put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Now, you stop talkin’ crazy,” she shushed her. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s nice that Ms. Rossalyn is gonna take Dylan home with her, that’ll be a nice treat for him, don’t you think?” she encouraged.

  Tom, who had until now been silent, sidled over closer to where Morgan Tyler stood, looking annoyed. “Got a minute?” the biker asked quietly.

  “Sure, why not. It’s not like I was conducting an investigation or anything,” the cop shook his head in disgust.

  “It may be pertinent to your investigation,” Tom said, even more quietly, so the women didn’t hear him.

  Morgan stared at him. “Fine. Elsa, I’m going to go make sure that the fire is under control. Don’t you wander off now,” he warned.

  “She ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Melba replied, pulling the widow closer under her protective arm. “Ms. Rossalyn, it’s mighty kind of you to take in Dylan.”

  “I think he and Ryan will have a great time playing video games and eating pizza,” Rossie replied diplomatically, wondering what on earth Tom Hundman might be saying to Morgan Tyler. “Are you ladies going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” Melba nodded. “We’ll let this fire burn out, and then I’m gonna take Elsa to my place for some of my special tea,” she winked subtly at Rossalyn. “I’ll make sure she gets all the attention she needs.”

  “That’s good,” Rossie nodded. “Who knows, Dylan and Ryan may get so busy that he ends up staying the whole weekend,” she hinted.