Needle and Dread (19 page)

The second their waitress stepped away from the table with their orders, Tori rested her cheek on Milo's shoulder and exhaled the last of the day's busyness once and for all.

“I take it today was Nina's day off?” His breath was warm against her skin as he draped his arm across the back of their booth and pulled her close.

“It was.” She knew she should say more, but at that moment, all she really wanted to do was listen to the beat of his heart in time with the music being pumped through a handful of speakers scattered throughout the popular eatery.

“She's back tomorrow, right?”

“She is.”

“Well, the good news is, Bud is doing the cooking
tonight. That means we don't have to lift so much as a finger between now and when our food arrives.”

“A heavenly thought if there ever was one,” she managed to eke out between yawns.

“Hey!” Milo set his tea glass down on the table and turned just enough to afford a view of her face. “Speaking of Heavenly, any word on whether Nina can cover you for a few days between Christmas and New Year's?”

She breathed in his nearness for a few more glorious seconds and then straightened up on the vinyl bench seat. “Actually, she called me this afternoon and said those days might be a little tricky with some of Duwayne's out-of-town family members coming in for the holidays, but she did say she could cover me over the long Presidents' Day weekend in February.”

His answering shoulder slump was fleeting, but still, she caught it. “I know it'll be too late to coincide with our first Christmas together,” Tori said, “but it sure will make a great belated Valentine's Day getaway.”

“Wait, that's right! Valentine's Day is just a few days before that, isn't it?” At her nod, he took a brief sip of his tea and then returned the glass to the table with a triumphant thud. “We can work with this. I'll call and make a reservation during my free period tomorrow.”

“For what it's worth, I'm already looking forward to it,” she said, peering up at him. “In fact, I suspect it will be the carrot I use to get through days just like today.”

He reached across her lap and covered her wedding ring with his. “Me, too. After today, of course.”

“After today?”

“Yup.
That's
”—he pointed at the vanilla milkshake
making its way across the table in her direction—“today's carrot, remember?”

She unwrapped the straw and popped it into the shake. “It's
a
carrot, yes.”

“Did you want a chocolate shake instead?” he asked.

“No. Vanilla is perfect.” She took a sip of her shake and then held it out to Milo to sample. “The most motivating carrot that got me through the day was getting to see you.”

“Watching you two almost makes me want to get married.” Jolee, as her name tag read, set the hamburger platter in front of Milo and the French dip sandwich platter in front of Tori and then lowered the tray to her side. “And, judging by the way that fella at the bar keeps looking at you two, I'm not the only one who thinks that way, either.”

Curious, she followed the waitress's gaze across the smattering of tables in the center of the dining room to the line of stools bordering three sides of the rectangular bar. There, on the fourth stool from the left, she found an all-too-familiar pair of eyes looking back at her.

Travis.

Her every instinct told her to avert her eyes, but for some reason she held his gaze until he looked away.

“Tori? Do you know that guy?”

The part of her that was desperate to make things right for Rose was sure she'd seen guilt as he looked away, but the part of her that ached for his loss was certain she'd seen something far more raw and tortured . . .

“Tori?”

“If there's anything else you need, just give me a holler.” And then Jolee was gone, heading back through
the kitchen's swinging door in search of another table's order.

“Tori? Are you okay?”

Unsure of what she was feeling, she turned back to her husband. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to check out on you like that.”

“I take it you know that guy?” At her nod, he led her gaze back to the bar and the man who, once again, was watching them rather than the sports program on the television above the bar. “Who is he?”

“His name is Travis Beaker. He's the guy who drove the tour bus to Rose's shop on Saturday and to our house on Monday evening for the sewing circle meeting.”

“Okay. So what's with the staring? He looks almost . . .
sad
.”

Milo was right. Guilt would have him averting his gaze from the start. Pain would make it difficult to look away.

“His wife and fourteen-year-old daughter were killed in a car accident six months ago.”

Milo raked his hand through his hair and leaned his head against the back of the booth. “Aw man, I—do you mind if I invite him to sit with us? Maybe he could use a friend or two right now.”

Again, she followed her husband's eyes back to the bar, Travis's head now hung low over a half-empty glass of beer. She couldn't completely rid herself of the unease that came from the memory of his odd behavior at the inn, but the sadness that oozed from his body stirred something inside her she couldn't ignore, either. “I'm okay with that if he wants to.”

“I'll be right back.”

She watched as Milo slid out of the booth, weaved his way through the maze of tables, and then tapped Travis on the shoulder. What was said, she could only guess at, but after a few minutes of back and forth, Travis picked his glass up off the bar and followed Milo back to the table.

“Hi, Travis,” she said as she motioned to the empty bench on the other side of the table. “I'm glad you can join us.”

He hesitated beside the table for a moment before taking a half step backward. “I really shouldn't interrupt. You're eating dinner.”

“So I'll call Jolee over and you can get some food, too.” Milo motioned to the waitress and then slid into his spot next to Tori. “FYI, the burgers here are really good.”

Travis nodded, handed the menu back to Jolee, and placed an order for a hamburger with the works. When Jolee left, he drummed his fingers on the table briefly before abandoning the gesture in favor of an awkward shrug. “I'm sorry if my staring at the two of you made you uncomfortable or made you feel as if I was looking for something. I was really just remembering back to the beginning is all.” He pointed to Milo's wedding band and then took a quick pull of his beer. “When did y'all get married?”

“Six weeks ago.” At Travis's insistence, Milo finally gave in to the allure of his burger and encouraged Tori to start on her meal, as well. “Oh. Wow. This is good . . .”

“My wife and I got married in October, too. Only our wedding was eighteen years ago.” With one hand still on his beer glass, Travis leaned back against his seat, his words delivering him to a place he was
obviously already visiting in this thoughts. “And boy was it good. We could lose ourselves in each other just like you were doing over here a little while ago. She was my wife and my best friend all rolled up in one. She made the good times sweeter, and the bad times a whole lot more tolerable, that's for sure.”

“I know all about that,” Milo said, lowering his burger momentarily. “Victoria does the same for me.”

“Ginny—that was my wife—was positively glowing when she told me she was pregnant. We'd been married almost three years at that point, and she was waiting for me at the door when I got home from work. She took me by the hand and led me through the house and out to the patio where she had a box all wrapped up like a present. When I reminded her it wasn't my birthday, she just laughed and said it didn't matter, that some presents couldn't wait.” Travis's eyes fixed on a spot somewhere far beyond the half wall that separated their booth from the next one. And as they did, a wistful smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I pulled off the ribbon, the tape, and the wrapping paper, and there, inside the box, was a slip of paper made up to look like a coupon. Across the front, in her best handwriting, were the words ‘redeemable for a mini-us in twenty-four weeks.'”

He blinked and then lolled his head back against the top of the booth. “Would you believe it took me a few seconds to get it? I could be so dense at times. But when I did, I'm pretty sure our neighbors three streets over could hear me whooping it up.”

Milo's gentle laugh was met with one from Travis as well before the man continued. “Twenty-four weeks later, our mini-us arrived in the form of a baby girl. We
named her Rachel Renee, and she stole our hearts with her very first breath.”

Unsure of what to say, Tori simply pushed her barely eaten sandwich to the side and waited for the rest of what she knew to be a heartbreaking tale. Travis did not disappoint—his words, his tone, his pain bringing tears to Tori's eyes. “Rachel was brilliant, funny, and caring. She made Ginny and me proud each and every day. Even that last morning, before Ginny left to take Rachel to school, Rachel told us her English teacher wanted to submit one of her poems to a national high school poetry contest.

“I have the certificate she would have won. It came in the mail two months ago—addressed to her.”

Jolee reappeared beside the table and quietly placed the last plate of food in front of Travis. If he noticed though, he gave no indication. “I told them to be careful when they left that morning. But I always did. It was part of the routine. But so was them coming back home at the end of the day . . .”

“What happened?” Milo asked as he, too, pushed his plate to the side, unable to concentrate on anything but Travis and a story poised to take a decidedly different turn.

“According to the driver in the car behind them, Ginny stopped at the stop sign, looked both ways, and then proceeded to pull out onto Route 5. By the time she saw the car racing around the bend, it was too late. For both of them.”

Tori disengaged her hand from Milo's and reached across the table for Travis's. “I'm so sorry, Travis.”

“I've always hated that intersection, hated it with a
passion. I knew it was dangerous. Everyone with half a brain in their head did. But I didn't do anything about it. I just accepted it as the way it was like everyone else in Jasper Falls did.” Travis parted company with the back of the booth, flipped the top bun off his burger, and stared down at the mountain of condiments he'd requested, his tone becoming wooden. “For months I blamed myself—if I'd only said something sooner . . . if I'd gone to the town council, to the state, to any number of agencies tasked with roads or safety or some combination of the two . . . if I'd only done this, or only done that, maybe Ginny and Rachel would still be here. Those thoughts were there all day long, and all night, too. But I couldn't have changed a damn thing. And you want to know why? Because money and power trump safety in Jasper Falls!”

Travis smacked his fist on the table so hard several diners at surrounding tables turned to stare, prompting him to lower his voice. “Or at least it did up until five days ago . . .”

“Is he coming back?” Jolee asked, pointing at Travis's plate. “Do you think he'd like me to box his up, too?”

“No, he's gone.” Milo looked from the waitress to the still topless burger and back again. “Does anyone have a pet they can bring it home to? Are you allowed to do that?”

Securing the plate with her fingertips, Tori shook her head. “Actually, why don't we box it up after all? We could swing by the inn on the way home and drop it off for him there.”

“You know something? That's a really good idea.” He turned back to Jolee and handed her the plate. “When you're done and you've got a chance, could we see a dessert menu?”

“Sure thing.”

Tori watched Jolee disappear through the swinging door with Travis's plate in her hand and then gently jabbed Milo in the side with her elbow. “Dessert? Are you serious? I already had a milkshake and neither one of us finished our dinner.”

“Who are you and what did you do with my wife?” He captured her hand in his and held it against his grin.

She poked him in the side again, this time following it up with a kiss on his cheek. “Hey! It was a logical question, mister.”

“Since when have logic and dessert ever gone hand in hand for you?” He extricated his fingers from hers and picked up the menu Jolee had quietly dropped off on her way to another table. “Besides, we were a little distracted, you know?”

“I do.” She tried to focus on the dessert options highlighted by Milo's passing index finger, but her thoughts kept returning to the man who'd sat across the table from them less than ten minutes earlier, the anguish he'd carried still lingering in the air around them. “Do you think he'll ever feel joy again?”

Milo's finger stopped moving as he swung his attention back to her. “You mean Travis?”

“Yes.”

“I think I'm living proof of that, don't you?” Releasing the menu back onto the table, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “When Celia died twelve years ago, I thought I was down for the count. At twenty-five. But God obviously had a very different plan because, when He felt the time was right, He sent me you and a level of joy I didn't know existed.”

She swallowed over the rising lump in her throat and
tried to frame her next question in such a way as to get the answer she sought without forcing Milo into revisiting a painful time in his past. “I know, from conversations we've had, that you were angry when Celia died. Did you ever act out?”

“Sure. I punched walls, I yelled, I screamed, I went on punishing runs for miles on end. But eventually I got through the anger.” Hooking his finger beneath her chin, he lifted her gaze to meet his. “Are you asking this stuff because of Travis?”

“I guess, yeah.” She pulled free of his hand to take a sip of water. When she was done, she set the glass back on the table and hiked the side of her knee onto the vinyl-covered bench between them. “Do you think your anger might have taken a different form if Celia's death hadn't been health-related?”

“If you're referring to the anger that made Travis hit the table the way he did, that's normal. Trust me, sweetheart, I smacked a few tables myself in those early months.”

She took a deep breath and waded in the rest of the way. “I'm thinking more about what he
said
when he smacked the table.”

“What did he say? I don't really remember.”

“He said something about money and power coming before safety in Jasper Falls—until five days ago.”

“Okay . . .”

“Opal was murdered five days ago, Milo.”

“I know that. But what's that have to do with Travis getting upset?”

She took another sip of water and then filled him in on everything she'd uncovered regarding Travis's fight to make the intersection where his family was killed
safer. When she got to the part about Opal essentially squashing his fight, Milo held up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. You're not implying Travis killed Opal to get a traffic light in place, are you?”

“No, of course . . .” The protest segued into a resigned nod. “Okay, maybe just a little. I mean, you saw his anger and his hurt just now. Those are both powerful emotions capable of messing with a person's head, you know?”

“He didn't kill that woman.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked. “You just met Travis no more than thirty minutes ago.”

“Don't get me wrong. I suspect you're dead-on that he had intense anger for Opal. But his request was formally shot down a month ago, right?”

“Maybe five weeks ago, but something like that.”

“The rage would have come
then
. By now, the sadness has seeped back in.” Milo traced his finger around the outer edge of the dessert menu and then looked back at Tori. “He didn't kill her, Tori. He may have
wanted
to five weeks ago, but not now. Nothing dulls the sadness except time and”—he smiled—“one helluva second chance.”

“But he was watching and listening while I was talking to Minnie the other day. And when he knew I'd became aware of him, he moved,” she protested.

“He told me that there's something about your cheekbones that makes him think of Ginny.”

“I didn't hear him say that!”

“He told me when I went over to him at the bar. I think he thought I was taking issue with the way he kept looking over at you.” Milo picked up the menu and gave it a little jiggle. “The brownie à la mode is calling my name. Want to share?”

It wasn't that she wanted Travis to be guilty of murder, because she didn't. She wanted him to heal and find joy one day just like Milo did with her. But, at the same token, someone had killed Opal and was walking around scot-free . . .

“Victoria?”

She abandoned the menu's offerings for the pair of women waving at her from a few steps away. “Samantha, Lucinda, hello!” Tori motioned them closer, turning to Milo as she did. “Milo, you remember Samantha and Lucinda from my sewing circle meeting the other night, don't you?”

“Yes, of course.” He extended his hand to each woman and then invited them to sit, an invitation they quickly turned down.

“We're picking up to-go orders to take back to the inn. Miranda is paying for them right now.”

Tori followed the path forged by Samantha's finger and found a waving Miranda at the other end. She returned the wave and then turned her attention back on her own table and Travis's now-boxed meal. “Hey, if it's not too much trouble, Samantha, could you take this box back to the inn with you for Travis? He left it behind, and it's a shame to see it go to waste.”

“Sure, we can do that.”

Samantha took the box while Lucinda's finger came to rest on the fifth line of Milo's dessert menu. “When I was here on Sunday, I tried the salted caramel bundt cake and it was unforgettable,” Lucinda gushed. “Truly. It's why there will be two of those going back to the inn with us in a few minutes.”

“You like the salted caramel bundt cake, as well, Samantha?”

“Oh no, the second one isn't for me, Victoria. It's for Minnie. Call it a last-ditch attempt to cheer her up. She's far too sweet to be in such a state.”

“Wait. What's wrong with Minnie?” Tori asked.

A series of concerned looks passed between the women before Samantha finally answered. “We don't know, Victoria. We just know that the crying has to stop. Soon. It's not good for Minnie, and it's not good for the rest of us who can't sleep through all that sniffling and crying.”

“She's
crying
? When? Why?”

“At night.”

“
Every
night,” Lucinda corrected Samantha. “At first we thought she was just upset about having to stay here in Sweet Briar longer than expected, but she seems to really like the inn, and the owners—Hannah and Nathan—have developed a real fondness for her that is most definitely reciprocated.”

Samantha returned Travis's box to the table and lowered herself onto the very corner of the opposing bench. “Yet every night, like clockwork, she cries in her room. So, last night, I decided someone needed to talk to her. But as I got within earshot of her door, I realized that in addition to the crying, she was also talking.”

“Talking? To who?”

“To herself. About Opal.”

“
Opal
?” Tori repeated. “Are you sure?”

Samantha fingered a piece of red hair away from her blue-green eyes and nodded. “I was stunned, of course.
But everyone deals with things differently, I suppose. Some people resort to tears, like Minnie, and some even to not-so-quiet celebrating like Gracelyn. In the middle between the two, you find me and Lucinda. We swing back and forth between being angry we can't go home, and downright ecstatic that we don't have to yet.”

Jolee returned to the table to check on their status, but all Tori could really focus on was the rewind feature being utilized by her brain at that exact moment. “Gracelyn has been
celebrating
Opal's death?”

“If you thought it would bring your family back, wouldn't you?” Lucinda glanced toward the front counter and then back at Samantha. “Looks like Miranda has everything, so we probably should be heading out.” Then, turning to Tori and Milo, she smiled warmly. “It was nice to see both of you again. And really, the caramel bundt cake is a must-get.”

Tori waited until Jolee took their dessert order before grabbing Milo's arm and squeezing a wee bit harder than she'd intended. “It's got to be one of them, don't you think? Either Minnie or Gracelyn? I mean, the one who was treated abominably by Opal is crying—which could signal guilt, and the one who lost day-to-day contact with her family because of Opal is celebrating her death.”

Milo grinned down at her hand and then relocated it to the table with the help of his own. Interlacing their fingers, he let out a half sigh, half laugh. “When we retire, maybe you should give some thought to becoming the first-ever granny PI. And maybe
I
can be your assistant.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” She stuck her tongue out at him and then followed it up with an apologetic kiss. “But seriously. Doesn't it make sense it's one of them?”

“I suppose. But crying could just mean Minnie is sad, couldn't it?”

“Over Opal? A woman who humiliated Minnie at every turn in the hours leading up to her demise? Um, doubtful.”

“And your reason for the other one?” Milo prodded.

“You mean Gracelyn? Oh, that's easy. Gracelyn has reason to celebrate Opal's death. With that one out of the mix in all things Jasper Falls, those buildings Gracelyn's kids wanted to lease for their respective businesses will be available again. Voilà, welcome back, family!”

Milo sat back as Jolee neared their table with his brownie sundae and Tori's salted caramel bundt cake. “Not necessarily. Opal could have a kid or a spouse who gets everything upon her death, thus changing nothing in Gracelyn's world.”

“Ughhh! I hadn't thought of that.”