The Ruth Valley Missing Page 16

  I put my hands up. “I’m not debating that. Doesn’t change that there was collateral damage.”

  “Fine. Fine. I’ll fix it.”

  Emma returned to the table, filling two glasses and setting the carafe of juice on the table. I gave Mike another nudge.

  “How’s your mother doing, Emma?”

  Emma looked up. “Oh, about the same. She had a bit of a spell this mornin’. But she’s gettin’ along.”

  “Anything I can do for you?”

  Emma’s dimples slowly made their appearance. “No, Father. That’s very kind, but we’re fine.”

  I cleared my throat.

  “Emma,” Mike continued, shooting me a look, “I wanted to apologize to you. Last time I was in here, I wasn’t feeling too hot, and I think I may have been rude. There’s no excuse for my behavior, and if it upset you I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

  Emma beamed. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We all have our down days.”

  “That’s a load off my heart, Miss Emma. Thank you.”

  Emma skipped back to the kitchen, and Father Mike grinned at me, eyebrows raised. “I’m good, right?”

  “You laid it on a little thick for my taste, but Emma’s happy. That’s all that matters.”

  He shook his head, grinning, and opened the blue folder, scanning through the contents. He sipped his juice, slowly, his grin now gone, and flipped through the pages.

  “This is...”

  “Impressive?”

  “I was gonna say ‘thorough’, but yeah, a little bit of that, too.”

  I was up all night compiling every detail I could think of that could lead us to what the nuns in this town were up to. An account of both abductions, every detail about the places I’d been held, the wardrobe in the convent, the surgical tools, anything and everything I knew.

  Mike leaned forward a bit, speaking in a hushed tone. “How did you know about Joan’s husband? The truck?”

  “She told me.”

  “Really?”

  “What can I say, I have a face people trust.”

  He laughed. “Is that what they tell you?”

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “People tell their priest a lot in confession, James.”

  Emma walked up to the table, balancing two plates loaded with hash browns, eggs, and extra bacon. “Here you go.” She looked at the blue folder Mike quickly closed. “Oh! Are you working on this year’s bake sale?”

  We nodded in unison.

  “I really want to make something this year. I always get stuck babysittin’ instead.”

  “Consider yourself signed up then,” I replied.

  “Really? Oh, James, you’re the best!” she squealed as she left the table.

  I shrugged and dug into my breakfast. Father Mike returned to the folder.

  “So, there are some notations in here about photos?”

  I nodded as I swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “I put a note next to anything that I have a photo to back it up.”

  “And they are where?”

  “Uploaded to a password protected account online. After the break-in at my place, I figured it was too risky to keep physical copies around. I even deleted the local copies from my phone and laptop.”

  “There are no hard copies?”

  “Well, except for the few I gave to you.”

  “And the ones you mailed to a safe place.”

  “Hmm?” I asked, mouthful of bacon. I swallowed, remembering my threat at our last diner meeting. “Oh, right. Those.”

  “That wasn’t true was it?”

  “Not at the time.”

  He shook his head and sing-songed quietly. “Pants on fire.”

  “Oh, whatever. Somehow I doubt you’ve been one hundred percent forthcoming with me. Where’d you pick up those fighting skills, Father?”

  “What skills? Not my fault you fight like a girl.”

  “No, no, no, I lived in the city. I took self-defense classes. You have training.”

  “Seminary. People don’t recognize what a well-rounded education you get there.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

  I continued eating in silence while Father Mike finished reading the contents of the folder. He flipped a page, then looked at me over the folder. “Really?”

  “Last page?”

  I smiled, remembering what I wrote as I finished the night before.

  This folder will self-destruct in 10...9...8...7...

  Just kidding. But seriously. You should probably burn this or something.

  “I’m hilarious.”

  Mike shook his head. “You have issues.”

  “You're not the first to say so.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  We both grabbed our juices, grinning over the tops of our glasses. I set mine down and grimaced as I watched Mike’s smile change from genuine to forced, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he did.

  “Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

  Jack stood over the table, looking down at us. I was relieved to see it was him and not another nun.

  Father Mike leaned forward, resting his arm on top of the folder. “Sheriff, good to see you. Care to join us?”

  “For a minute. Can’t stay too long. Some of us have work to get to.” Jack sat down and slid his arm around my waist, before grabbing a piece of bacon off my plate. “So, what are you ladies chatting about?”

  Father Mike replied in a calm voice, calmer than I would have expected given Jack’s comment. “Jameson volunteered to coordinate this year’s bake sale. We’re discussing what needs to be done, what her ideas are for this year. I won’t bore you with the details.”

  “You know, Jack makes a wicked chocolate cake, Father.” I looked at Jack and gave him a big smile. “You have to make some for the bake-off.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Bake-off? I don’t know. And I wouldn’t call it ‘wicked’. Particularly in present company.”

  “He knows what I mean.” I gave Jack a playful nudge, doing my best to ease the tension at the table.

  Mike cleared his throat. “I am sure I can leave convincing Jack to grace us with his cake to you.”

  I ignored Mike’s smirk and hoped Jack would too.

  “We’ll talk about it later. Over dinner, okay?” Jack took me by surprise as he planted his lips on mine before getting up from the table. He was usually more reserved about showing affection in public. “Father, see you on Sunday.”

  Father Mike nodded and watched Jack as he stopped at the counter to grab a bag and then head out the door. “Well, that was a bit primal.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I said, unconvincingly. “Wait, what?”

  “He came over to mark his territory.”

  “Stop. I’m not territory. And he wasn’t marking anything.”

  “You know, he hasn’t been in to confess in a long while. Probably doesn’t want to talk to me about his impure thoughts.”

  “Okay, that’s just...ew.”

  “I told you. Priests get to hear everything.”

  I shook my head.

  “Fine, just trying to keep the mood light.” He slid the folder off the table and stuck it in his coat. “I should go. I have some studying to do. And some planning. Let’s meet again after the weekend.”

  “That long?”

  He smirked and I shot him a dirty look, anticipating a smart remark. He took the hint and refrained.

  “Yes. Even with your bake sale responsibilities, we need to be careful.”

  “So, Monday? Breakfast again?”

  He nodded. “If plans need to change, I’ll let you know Sunday after Mass.” He stood up and paused before smiling again. “This was your treat, right? Vow of poverty and all.”

  I nodded, shaking my head as he left the diner.

  Chapter 43

  I got home right before the sky turned dark. Opening the door, I couldn’t help but notice the kitchen smelled of oregano and basil. I peeked in the oven to see
lasagna baking and smiled, pleased to be dating such a domestic fellow.

  The kitchen was quiet, so I moved into the living room, a small box sitting on the table.

  “Jack?”

  I listened to Jack make his way downstairs. “Sorry, was washing up before dinner.”

  “I see you cooked.”

  “And I snuck a bottle of wine from your stash.”

  “Special occasion?” I glanced at the neatly wrapped box, trying not to be obvious, as Jack walked by on his way to the kitchen.

  “No, just thought I’d make you dinner.”

  I turned away from the mystery package and followed Jack to the kitchen. He was setting the table and pouring the wine.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing going on?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “We gotta work on that paranoid streak of yours. Go ahead and have a seat.”

  I sat down at the kitchen table, and watched as Jack brought us each a bowl of salad, and served up the lasagna. He sat down, grabbed his fork, and looked up at me before digging in. “Go on, before I get offended.”

  I picked up my fork, trying to concentrate on the food in front of me, rather than the mystery gift on the table in the other room. We ate quietly for a bit, making the occasional chit chat about the weather.

  “How’s bake sale coordinating going?”

  “Fine. I swear everyone in this town knows how to bake. It’s more of a chore getting people not to sign up. It’s been more fun getting people to sign up for the bake-off.”

  “Bake-off?”

  “I thought it would be fun if there was a contest this year. I mean, I can only imagine that everyone around here has tasted most everyone else’s food. A bake-off means people can get a little creative.”

  “Who’s judging?”

  “I haven’t picked judges yet. I figure those should be really easy seats to fill.”

  “Any ideas of who you might ask?” He smiled, clearing his throat and sitting up straight in his chair.

  I shook my head, returning his smile. “No idea at all. I may have to wait and see who works hard to be in my good graces.”

  “I’m shocked. Are you saying you’re not above bribery?”

  “I guess that depends on what’s being offered.”

  Jack set down his fork and disappeared into the other room, reappearing at the table with the tiny box. “I was going to wait until after dinner, but if gets me special consideration…”

  He set the box on the table in front of me. I wiped my hands and pulled on the tiny bow holding the box closed. Inside, sitting in a pile of cotton was a silver band, carvings circling round in a never-ending Celtic knot.

  “It may be on the big side, but I thought you might like it.”

  I put the ring on my index finger, then switched it to the middle finger, where it was still loose but didn’t threaten to fall off.

  “This is really sweet, Jack.”

  “You like it?”

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  Jack scooted his chair closer and leaned forward, holding my newly adorned hand in both of his. “I wanted to be sure you knew how much having you here means to me. I know it hasn’t been a whole lot of time, but I haven’t felt this way about anyone in long while. I want you to know how happy I am you showed up when you did.”

  He brought my hand to his lips, kissed it, then let his hands fall to his lap, still holding mine. Looking down at the floor then at me, he continued, “I hope that’s not saying too much.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and took a deep breath, not sure what to say. I was never good at serious, and my past relationships always fizzled or completely crumbled well before anyone starting admitting feelings, or in some cases, even had feelings.

  “Of course,” he added, breaking the silence, “if you don’t feel the same, I at least hope this speech got me a judge’s chair at the bake-off.”

  My held breath escaped in a giggle. “Of course.”

  “Of course I have the judge’s chair?”

  “Yes, the judge’s chair. And yes, to everything else.” I leaned in, pressing my forehead against his. “I feel the same way.”

  He held a hand to my cheek, cradling my face as he kissed me before moving away and letting go of my hand.

  “I have to head out of town again this weekend. May have finally found a doc to take Matthew’s place.”

  I refilled my wine glass and took a long sip. “Really? That’s been taking forever.”

  “Yeah, not everyone is so inclined as you to take off for the unknown of a little town like this.” I nodded, thinking those people should stick with their gut. “Thought you might want to meet me up there and spend the day Sunday.”

  “I’d love to, but I’ve got so much to do organizing the bake sale. I don’t want the Sisters to think I’m shirking my responsibilities.”

  “I understand. It was worth a shot.”

  I hated lying, but I knew if I took off, the nuns wouldn’t care what excuse I gave. I needed to stay under the radar. My meetings with Father Mike were risky enough.

  I felt a dull ache in my stomach as I thought of all the things I was hiding from Jack. Even if I was doing it to protect him, it bothered me more now, knowing for certain how much he cared about me.

  “Raincheck?”

  He nodded, picking up our dishes and taking them to the sink. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  I forced a smile, feeling very unsure about what time we did, in fact, have.

  Chapter 44

  The weekend crept by with Jack out of town and the anticipation of my next meeting with Father Mike. I found myself hoping that Father Mike would stop me after Mass with news, but he gave me the same nod and ‘good-to-see-you’ he gave all the parishioners after services ended.

  By Monday morning, I couldn’t get to the diner fast enough. I was grateful for the stormy looking sky, as it not only gave me an excuse to skip the leisurely stroll and take my car, but it also meant there would be fewer people at the diner.

  I walked in and headed straight for the same corner booth, finding it empty. I wasn’t surprised, since I knew I rushed to beat the storm. After hanging my coat on the hook at the end of the booth, I slid in, nodding to Doris when she raised the coffee pot in my direction.

  I sat, hands wrapped around the warm mug of coffee, staring out the window. Waiting.

  When I had made it to the bottom of my first cup, I started to get anxious. I clinked the inside of my ring against the empty mug, stopping only when I noticed the dirty look Doris was giving me from behind the counter.

  I mouthed an apology and took out my phone. He was fifteen minutes late. Not necessarily indicative of a tragedy, but it was certainly affecting my ability to stay calm.

  “Another cup?” Doris walked over with coffee pot, and looked at my fingers, now drumming the table. “Decaf, maybe?”

  “Sorry.” I stretched my fingers out, then clasped my hands together under the table. “Yes, another cup would be great, thank you.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she answered, pouring me another cup and heading behind the counter.

  By the end of the second cup, the rain was coming down and I was becoming more than a little worried. I chewed on my thumbnail, contemplating where I would search or what I should do, when the front door swung open, Father Mike wrangling an unruly umbrella.

  “Morning, Father,” Doris called out from behind the counter, as friendly as I’d ever heard her.

  “Morning, Doris. How’s that cat of yours?”

  “Up to no good as usual.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he laughed, finally getting the umbrella closed.

  He headed to the booth, shaking the rain off and tossing his coat on the hook next to mine.

  “Sorry I’m a little behind this morning. Alarm didn’t go off. You know how that goes.” He turned towards the counter, raising his voice a bit, “Doris, dear, coffee when you have a chance. No rush.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. �
�Are you serious? You slept in?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, accomplishing nothing more than changing the direction in which it stood. “What? You’ve never slept in?”

  “Not when I have,” I cleared my throat and spoke through clenched teeth, “important ‘bake sale’ business to discuss. I thought something happened to you. I have no fingernails left.”

  “You shouldn’t do that. It’s nasty habit. You know how many germs you pick up with those fingers?”

  Father Mike grinned as Doris walked up and filled his coffee cup and took our breakfast order. As she left the table, I gave him a blank stare.

  “I should have called, I guess. Although, that could have been awkward if you were with your Sheriff.” He patted my hand. “It’s sweet of you to care so much, though. Really, I’m touched.”

  I pulled my hand back and sighed. “Let’s get on with it. What have you got for me?”

  He looked around and leaned in. “I took a look at the church rolls. You know, membership. I compiled a list of male parishioners that I haven’t seen since I started here.”

  “And?”

  “I sent them off to a friend. I’m waiting to hear from him.”

  “So, you don’t have anything.”

  “These things take time.”

  I sighed. “You’re not going to find anything.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because I searched for a ton of fathers and husbands in this town that supposedly up and left and found nothing. That was in the folder.”

  “Well,” he paused, sipping his coffee, “I may have resources you don’t.”

  “Old seminary buddies?”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  Doris returned with our breakfast plates, giving Father Mike a big smile as she did. “I had cook make the bacon extra crisp, the way you like it.”

  “Thank you, Doris. You’re a sweetheart.”

  I shook my head as she left. “I think you may be the only person I’ve ever seen Doris smile at.”

  “Of course. I’m charming.”

  “You really aren’t.”

  Father Mike cleared his throat. “Changing the subject ever so gracefully, you got anything for me?”

  “I do. A plan for the day of the bake sale.” He nodded, motioning for me to continue as he ate his food. “Those clothes in the wardrobe at the convent. There could be evidence there.”