It Had to Be Him (5 page)

He couldn’t tell Meg the truth—yet. While the dangerous criminals were all dead or behind bars, there were still some lingering questions about Meg’s father, so the case wasn’t closed. He probably should’ve waited until it was all over before he reappeared
in their lives, after they knew her father’s fate. Then there’d be no need to lie. But who knew how long that was still going to take? And after three of the longest years of his life, he couldn’t wait another day to see Meg’s beautiful smile again and to finally meet the daughter he knew nothing about but wanted to know every detail he’d missed. Never having a father, and being orphaned at six, he vowed to be a good parent to Haley.

But how the hell was he going to convince Meg he wasn’t the old Josh? Worse, what if she didn’t like the man he truly was?

Hitching up his bag, he headed for a set of double doors that slid open as he approached. The lobby was surprisingly sleek compared to the rustic exterior; gleaming wood floors, massive tables with fresh flowers, and oversized leather couches and chairs were all strategically set around flat-screen televisions and a big stone fireplace. There was even a highly polished old-fashioned bar for happy hour that could have come straight from a saloon in the Wild West.

A tall, dark-haired woman behind the reception desk lifted her head and sent him a warm smile. “Hi. May I help you?”

Before he could answer, the elevator doors slid open and a guy who looked familiar exited. Dressed in a T-shirt and board shorts, he lifted a hand to the lady behind the counter and then strolled out the back door toward the lake.

Josh approached the counter and dropped his bag at his feet. “Was that Ashton Kutcher?” He’d watched too much mindless television to pass the time while he’d been hidden away. It was embarrassing he even knew who that was.

“I wish. How can I help you?”

He could have sworn . . . he shook it off and got back to business. “I need a room for a few nights, please.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we don’t take walk-ins. Reservations only.”

“Would you be willing to make an exception just this once? I tried, but it’s impossible to find you on the web to make a reservation.”

“We rely on word of mouth only. The closest hotel is about fifteen miles south. Shall I call and see if they have any rooms available?”

What? The parking lot wasn’t nearly full, and there weren’t throngs of people milling around. What hotel wouldn’t have an Internet presence? It didn’t make any sense.

Megan didn’t talk about her family much, but she’d told him they ran the hotel and owned most of the real estate in the town. And something about the woman’s smile seemed familiar. Meg was a petite brunette with stunning blue eyes. This lady’s eyes were brown, and she was tall and slender, but her smile and hair color were just like Meg’s. “Did Megan put you up to this?”

Her eyebrows spiked. “Who’s Megan?”

She was good. But he hadn’t been called the human lie detector for nothing. A momentary flash in her eyes revealed she was covering. “I just want to see her and Haley. I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

At the mention of Haley, the woman’s hand had fisted around the pen she held. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’m sorry, but I don’t have a room for you, Mr. . . . ?”

“Josh Granger. If you see Megan, tell her I just want to talk. And if she runs, I’ll find her again. I’ll be at the diner I saw down the road if she wants to make this easier on everyone.”

Josh picked up his bag and headed for the sliding glass doors.

Maybe he’d come on a little too strong. This wasn’t Denver; it was a small town. Debating a less aggressive tactic, he glanced over his shoulder in time to see her furiously tapping out a message on her cell. Good. Spread the word, because Megan’s cell phone indicated she was just north of the hotel. The driveway had a gate and a sign professing to shoot trespassers or he would have gone to the coordinates his tracking software had guided him to first.
He’d sleep in his truck at the end of the driveway if he had to so she wouldn’t be able to bolt. Or maybe Megan would make this easy and meet him at the diner.

Two minutes later he pulled open the glass door of Good Eats and Better Treats. The home-cooked scents filling the air reminded him he’d skipped lunch. The diner was packed but for two empty stools at the counter.

The décor, contrary to the rustic Daniel Boone theme he’d expected from a mountain town, was straight out of the fifties. It had alternating black-and-white tile on the floors, red vinyl booths and stools, and lots of stainless steel behind the counter that was either original or a damned good restoration job. It even had little jukeboxes at every Formica-topped table.

The waitress behind the counter was somewhere between fifty and seventy-five. She wore a pink bowling shirt with the name “Gloria” stitched across her chest. Her hair was all piled up on top of her head like Marge Simpson’s. Gloria had five—no, make that six—pens sticking out of that bird’s nest. But it was the blue eye shadow and the hot-pink lipstick that completed what would be one hell of an impressive Halloween costume.

She held out a plastic-coated menu. “What can I get you? The chocolate mousse pie’s to die for.”

That was Megan’s favorite flavor of pie. She used to eat it in bed after they’d work up an appetite. The sexy moans she made while devouring it made up for the crumbs she’d leave on their sheets.

He slid onto a barstool next to an older man and drew a deep breath.

Patience. Small town. Reel it back
.

He returned the menu to Gloria without looking at it and remembered to smile. “Why don’t you bring me whatever you like the best and then the pie for dessert? I trust you.”

Her eyes squinted as she studied him. “Aren’t you the charmer? It’s no wonder Me—”

The old guy sitting next to him cleared his throat, cutting her off as he stuck his hand out. “Hi. Name’s Zeke. What brings you to Anderson Butte?”

He shook the man’s hand. “Josh. Nice to meet you. Have you lived here long?”

“My whole life.”

“Then you must know the woman I’m looking for. She grew up here. Megan Anderson?”

The old guy frowned and scratched the stubble on his wrinkled cheek. “Nope. Can’t say I recognize the name. But wait. Half the town is here tonight ’cuz of the fish and chips special.” He stood and placed two fingers in his mouth, blowing out a shrill whistle an NFL referee would be proud of.

All conversation stopped and everyone turned to stare at them. “So, this here young man says he’s looking for a lady named Megan Anderson. Any you all know her?”

No
s rang out along with head shakes before they all went back to their meals.

Zeke shrugged. “Maybe you got the wrong town?”

Okay, so this was how it was going to be. He’d told the woman at the hotel he was coming here and she’d warned them.

“You mean this town—that’s named after her family?”

Zeke laughed. “Probably just a coinkydink? Enjoy your meal.”

A plate filled with chicken-fried steak and mashed potatoes slid in front of him, along with a scowl from Gloria. “Figured a slick-talking guy like you would like this better than fish and chips.”

It was probably good Meg had people like this to protect her. And as much as he wanted to punch his fist into a wall in frustration with them, Gloria was right. He hated fish and chips. It reminded him of those frozen fish stick meals he ate as a kid. They
served them every Tuesday at the orphanage disguised as a boys’ ranch where he’d grown up. He’d escaped the ranch on his eighteenth birthday, and hadn’t had a fish stick in the twelve years since.

“See, I knew I could trust you, Gloria.”

Her frown deepened. “Yeah, but can we trust you?” She sauntered away to top off more coffee cups.

Digging into the best chicken-fried steak he’d ever had, he reevaluated his plan. He hadn’t counted on the secret club he’d have to infiltrate.

Just as he finished off the last of his buttery, peppery mashed potatoes, the little bell above the glass door rang and in walked a cop. The man, built like a tank, could probably take down a hyped-up meth addict with ease. After scanning the busy diner, he made a beeline for the empty stool next to Josh’s.

Maybe his luck was about to change.

The man sat down and Gloria instantly appeared in front of him. “The usual, Sheriff?”

The guy gave a quick nod, then turned his intense blue-eyed gaze on Josh. “Evenin’.”

“Evening.” Josh glanced at the man’s name tag that read “R. Anderson,” and it became clear why his eyes reminded him so much of Megan’s. Another Anderson relative and another dead end most likely, but it was worth a try. He held out a hand. “Josh Granger.”

The man slowly reached out, then returned a bone-crunching handshake. “Heard you’re asking after someone named Megan. What’s it to you?”

Gloria returned with his pie and a chicken-fried steak dinner for the cop. After she handed everything out, she stood with her hands on her hips, apparently waiting for his answer too. The old guy next to him laid down his fork and crossed his arms, as the whole diner became Sunday-morning-Mass silent.

How much should he reveal? Probably the lady at the hotel had already told them anyway. “Just want to have a friendly conversation with her.”

He slid his fork into the pie and took a bite. The burst of creamy, rich chocolate that filled his mouth almost made him forget he was about to be interrogated.

The cop dug into his meal, taking a few bites then pausing for a gulp of his soda. He thumped the glass down on the counter and finally said, “That’s what cell phones are for. Since there’s nowhere for you to stay, you’d be smart to move along, Granger.”

Yep. Dead end.

He finished off his pie and forced a smile. Throwing two tens onto the counter, he said, “Best meal I’ve ever had, Gloria. Thank you for the hospitality.”

As he headed for the door, the old guy, Zeke, said loudly, “Sheriff, it’s legal to shoot a man for trespassing if a sign is clearly posted, right?”

“Yep. And Grandma doesn’t miss.”

That confirmed the cell phone tracking software on his laptop hadn’t steered him wrong. Megan was on the other side of the gate with the “No Trespassing” sign.

He kept on walking as if he hadn’t heard them. Talking to Megan was going to be harder than he’d anticipated, but no way in hell was he going to be run out of town like the villain in a low-budget Western.

M
egan caught a fleeing Haley and scooped her up. “I know you don’t like the mask, but it’ll help you breathe better. If you’ll sit really still and take big breaths for Mommy, we’ll get pie after dinner, okay?”

Megan carried Haley back to the couch and handed her a stack of her favorite books. “Choose which one and I’ll be right back.”

“Nooo, Mommy. Pleeeeez?” The books ended up on the floor.

Meg hated the nebulizer too, but Haley had been coughing after being outside all day. Probably the extra pollen in the air around the lake, but Meg wasn’t taking any chances. They’d go see Ben to be sure Haley’s meds didn’t need to be upped.

As if waiting for her cue, as soon as Meg walked back in the room with the machine, Haley flopped onto the couch and kicked, cried, and wailed. A tantrum deserving of an Academy Award.

Crying wouldn’t help Haley’s breathing, so Meg forced herself to remain calm and got everything set up. Then she sat quietly until Haley realized she wasn’t going to win. After a few more last-ditch protests, Haley grew still, so Meg pulled her against her side. She picked up
Goodnight Moon
from her feet, placed it on her lap, and then adjusted the mask across her pouting daughter’s face. “Breathe deep until all the medicine is gone. Then we’ll go eat.” She placed Haley’s hands on her stomach so she could feel the air
as she drew it into her lungs. “Fill the tummy balloon as big as it can get, then let it all out. Remember?”

Haley’s little nod just about broke Megan’s heart. Her kid was tough to the core.

They were almost finished when Casey slammed through the front door at a full run. One look at Haley stopped her in her tracks. “What’s the matter? Did she have an attack?”

Meg begged with her eyes for Casey to chill out. She didn’t want to scare Haley. “No. Everything’s great! We’re just reading.”

She couldn’t blame Casey. It had taken Meg a while to get used to seeing that contraption strapped to her baby’s face too.

“Oh. Good.” Casey slowly nodded and then sat on the other side of Haley. “I need to tell you something as soon as you guys are done, okay?” Casey’s gaze tilted to the top of Haley’s head and then up to Meg again in a “not in front of the kid” gesture.

They were close enough to done anyway. Freeing Haley from the mask, she said, “You did such a good job, Haley-Bug, you deserve an extra treat.” Meg dug her cell from her back pocket and did something she usually avoided, but Casey’s intense gaze convinced Meg to make an exception. “You can play any game you’d like for a bit while I talk to Aunt Casey.”

Haley’s face lit up and she morphed back into her happy little self. “Yay! The birdy one, Momma!”