Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations (2 page)

Hustling to open the door for them, the women greeted him with hugs and kisses. Walking in behind the others, he allowed a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lights of the bar. Chuck, behind the bar with his usually surly expression, offered a head jerk to Blaise in greeting.

“Yo, big fella!” called out Trudi, the longtime waitress at Chuck’s. “I ain’t seen the whole crew here in a while.”

Blaise grinned at the bar’s iconic waitress, complete with tits, ass, big hair, and big attitude. The kind-hearted, but sharp-tongued, waitress tended to mother-hen the Saints when they were around. Walking over, he hugged her, careful not to unbalance the tray of drinks she was carrying. She might have been in her mid-forties, but she still managed to out-serve the younger waitresses that she kept in line.

“I swear, every time you guys come in, another one of you has fallen,” she pronounced, nodding toward Chad, escorting his new wife, also pregnant. “And honest to God, you all must be as fertile as can be. You all hardly get with a good woman before she ends up in your house, with a ring on her finger, and pregnant!”

“Well, the only thing at my house that’s pregnant is one of my rescue dogs,” Blaise countered, a twinkle in his eye.

Trudi looked him up and down carefully. “Hmmm, I could easily see you being next. But, then, you only seem to pick up strays…not women!”

Laughing, he replied, “Ain’t it the truth!” He followed the group toward the back where several tables were pushed together, making a large seating area for the seventeen of them. It did not take long for the beer and Chuck’s wings to be served. Trudi kept them well supplied, including water for all of the expecting women.

Soon the assembly was circled around, sharing food, drinks, and tall tales of missions gone awry. The laughter rang out and camaraderie encompassed the newest Saint, Patrick, and his girlfriend, Evie. Blaise noted they fit right into the group, as though they had been there since the beginning.

Leaning over to Marc, he said, “You usually bring a date. What’s wrong? You off your game tonight?”

Chuckling at the good-natured teasing, Marc replied, “Look around, man. This group used to be a bunch of men, all on the take. Now, we look more like a domesticated bunch of—”

“Careful,” Monty said, throwing his arm around his grinning fiancé, Angel. “You’ll soon have seven women trying to fix you up!”

“Heaven help us all, then,” Marc called out, to the laughter of them all. “No need to worry, ladies, I am perfectly capable of getting my own dates.”

The others looked at the tall, rugged man and knew his words were true. He preferred the outdoors and the woman that captured his heart would have to love the same.

“Yes, but what about Blaise?” asked Dani. Married to Chad, she was also one of the newer additions to the group.

“Oh, Blaise is more suited to picking up strays than women,” Bart quipped. The former SEAL won the glare of Blaise but did not back down. “If it doesn’t have four legs and fur, I’m not sure it’ll be able to fit in with his menagerie.”

At that, Blaise hung his head, chuckling with the group.
It’s true. God, that’s sad!
Several minutes later, as the food continued to be consumed, the conversations became quieter and Blaise settled back in his seat, allowing his gaze to roam fondly over his friends, and then around the bar. The usual Friday night crowd was present with a few groups at the pool tables and a few couples dancing to the jukebox in the corner.
Wonder how old that jukebox is?
Chuck had refused to add anything newer, saying if people wanted a nightclub they could go to Charlestown.

Several people sat at the bar, casually talking to Chuck or with their eyes glued to the baseball game on the TV mounted in the corner. A slight movement in the shadows at the far end of the bar caught his eye. The bowl of peanuts disappeared from sight. Leaning over slightly, he saw a small hand scooping the peanuts out and shoving them into an oversized coat pocket. Curious, he shifted his seat closer to the wall in order to have an unobstructed view of the miscreant.

Shocked, he stared at a woman, her thin arm poking out of a jacket sleeve, as she slyly grabbed more peanuts. Her long, brown, somewhat ratty hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her face bore no makeup but was striking nonetheless. Her dark eyes, huge in her face, darted around as though making sure she was not seen. He noticed a glass of water sitting on the bar next to her.

A piercing stabbed him in the heart, as his protective nature roared to life.
She looks like she hasn’t eaten a decent meal in a while. She’s lucky to be in Chuck’s. He’ll not mind the missing bowls of peanuts and is probably sending more down her way, knowing she’s hungry.

Excusing himself, he casually walked to the other end of the bar and nodded toward Chuck. When the owner reached him, he leaned in and said, “The woman at the end of the bar—”

“I’ve been feeding her peanuts,” Chuck said quickly. “Trudi’s keeping an eye on her. She’s been in here before but is real skittish. When Trudi asked her if she’d like something to eat, she skedaddled out. She didn’t give Trudi a chance to tell her it’d be free.”

Blaise nonchalantly looked over Chuck’s shoulder at the woman. Her face down, she kept her eyes moving around, seemingly observing her surroundings. He slid his gaze around, glad that she had not attracted the attention of any of the men at the bar.
It’s no wonder, with her clothes. It appeared she wore a man’s t-shirt with an old faded jacket over it. While her face was beautiful, to the casual observer she was no more than a down-on-her-luck woman looking for a handout.

A swelling of protectiveness overcame him again and he said, “Get her some food. Just sit it down in front of her and don’t tell her it’s from me. Just put it down and walk away. She might eat it then if she feels like no one is watching.” Realizing he just sounded like he was approaching one of his skittish strays, he shook his head.
People aren’t so different. If she doesn’t trust…she won’t eat.

Chuck nodded and moved to the kitchen as Blaise headed back to the table, having grabbed another pitcher of beer. Sitting down next to Bart’s new wife, Faith, she looked up at him. Feeling her small hand on his arm, he gazed down at her, a questioning expression on his face.

“I can tell you noticed the woman sitting over there. I feel…” shaking her head in confusion for a few seconds, she continued, “danger with her. But mostly a great deal of fear.”

Checking to see that no one else from their group was listening, he said, “Anything else?”

“No. But approach…cautiously.”

Nodding, he smiled at the petite, dark-haired beauty. Faith, while never claiming to be a seer, did get visions at times and had assisted them in a case last fall. In fact, that was how she met Bart. He mouthed,
Thanks
, and went back to his conversation with Marc. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed as Chuck set a plate down in front of the woman at the bar. The woman’s eyes jerked open wide and it appeared she was about to slide down off her chair. Chuck leaned over and whispered to her before walking away.
Good man. Just let her be, and she’ll soon eat.

As her eyes darted around the room he quickly looked away, not wanting her to see him staring back at her. Engaging Chad and Marc again in conversation, he was determined to let her eat in peace. Forcing himself to wait at least five minutes before looking at her again, he watched the seconds crawl by. Finally, shifting his chair slightly, he looked toward the end of the bar.

She was gone. The plate was still there, but the food was gone as well.

W
hat the fuck?
Where the hell did she go?
Irritated that he had allowed her to be out of his line of vision, with the crowded bar, she had slipped away unnoticed.
Some investigator, I am,
he thought angrily.

Standing, he headed back to the bar. Chuck, seeing him scowling as he came over, threw his hands up. “Hey man, I didn’t see where she was going. But the plate was left empty, so she must have eaten.”

“Yeah, all right,” Blaise grumbled, then shook his head. “It’s okay. Her getting some food in her is the most important thing anyway.”

No longer in the mood to join his friends, he moved down the hall past the bar to the men’s room. Finishing there, he decided he needed a breath of fresh air. A door to the back of the bar was located near the restrooms and was the quickest way outside. Pushing open the door, he stepped out and almost tripped over the crouching woman, holding a bite of chicken out to a huge German Shepherd.

The woman, startled, jumped up as the dog placed its body in front of her, its bared teeth and snarl declaring the warning to Blaise. Stunned, he jerked his hands up and took a step back, making sure he let the dog know he was no threat.

The dog continued its low growl but made no threatening approach. The woman reached down, fingers outstretched, and gently touched the animal with her fingertips. The barely-there touch was all that was needed. The dog immediately softened its growl, relaxing its stance slightly.

“I mean you no harm,” Blaise said. “I just came out for some air.” His eyes lingered on her face, entranced now that he obtained a clearer view of her. Dark hair, not dirty, but looking as though it had not been brushed recently, was pulled back into a ponytail with escaping tendrils blowing in the breeze. Her face, cheeks slightly hollow, were clean and her complexion clear. A scar ran across the side of her forehead. Red and angry. It appeared to be fairly recent and had not been treated.

But it was her eyes that captured his attention, rendering him almost speechless. Large, dark, brown—so dark that it was difficult to tell where the iris stopped and the pupil began.

His gaze dropped to the napkin full of food clutched in her hand before moving to the dumpster behind Chuck’s, where he noted a paper plate with rummaged food on it.
Jesus, has she been eating out of the garbage?

Her gaze followed his and he watched as her chin lifted in defiance. She did not speak, but her eyes were wary and her body tense, as though ready to take flight.

“I’ll be glad to get you some more food…for your dog,” he hastened to say, catching the flash of fear in her eyes. A furtive shake of her head was her only answer.

His eyes dropped to the beast in front of her. Beautiful dog…well maintained, until recently, he guessed. Very similar to its owner. Perhaps they haven’t been on the street too long. His assessing gaze then noticed the dog favoring one of its back legs.

“Is your dog injured?”

Her eyes barely left his as she quickly glanced down to the animal, but she said nothing.

“I’m a veterinarian,” Blaise explained. “I’ll be glad to take a look for you.”

Once more, a quick shake of her head was all he received.

Frustrated, he continued, “Well, at least let me get you and your beautiful dog some more food that’s…uh…healthier.” At this, he noticed her tongue dart out as she licked her lips. The small nod was the first positive encounter he had, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Grinning, he backed slowly toward the door and said, “If you’re comfortable here, just stay and I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll bring some food and water for you and your dog.”

Quickly turning, he rushed back into Chuck’s, bypassing the bar and heading straight into the kitchen. “Trudi, I’ve got the woman outside and she’s feeding her dog. I told her I’d bring more food.”

“Just like you to pick up a stray!” Trudi said, hustling around, filling another plate with chicken, baked beans, coleslaw, and potato salad. “Here’s a bag of chips as well.” Grabbing a quart of milk from the refrigerator, she shoved it all into his hands.

Hustling back out the door, he said, “I’ve got a feast for you and your dog!”

Only the silence of the night, mixed with the distant noise from inside the bar, greeted him. She…and her dog…were gone.

*

After several minutes
running behind Chuck’s looking for her, Blaise gave up, furious that he had not made sure to have her enter with him. Walking back to the table, he saw the silent, curious stares of his entire group of friends. Sitting down heavily, he pursed his lips in anger and, for a moment, considered not saying anything. Quickly realizing that was a stupid reaction, especially if they could help, he looked up and said, “You’re not going to believe it.”

Having everyone’s attention, he related the events of the past hour, captivating them with his story. “So, I guess, I’d just ask that you all be aware and if you see her, call it in to me. She may be hurt…I think her dog may need attention. I…I…just want to make sure she’s okay.”

True to their nature, the group immediately began to brainstorm. “She touch anything?” Jack asked.

Fingerprints! Fuck!
“Yeah, the water glass on the bar, but I can see it’s already been put in the tray with all the other glasses to be washed. We won’t be able to tell which one was hers.”

“You said Chuck reported that she had been here before?” Bethany asked hopefully. “Maybe she’ll come back. Maybe we can find her another night.”