Before I Wake (6 page)

“The Dessert Palace is more than an hour north of Chicago.”

“Yes. So?” She slid bills to pay for dinner onto the tray with the ticket and left a large tip on the table. “I’m driving.”

Bruce laughed. He got up and picked up his jacket. “You haven’t changed, Gabriella. I’m getting the lemon meringue, and when my blood sugar goes high enough to kill me, I’m blaming it on you.”

“Can we take your Jaguar?”

“After the snow clears you can have a set of keys. Until then, we rough it in yours or take my Caprice.”

“I’m upgrading the Lexus to something with less miles on it just as soon as I get settled in here. I didn’t want to pay the district tax.”

Rae picked up a toothpick at the counter and a copy of the free town advertiser in order to read the ads later. She pushed open the door. She pointed to her car and dug the keys out of her pocket.

“It’s going to take a while to adjust to a small town where everyone listens in. You were getting a lot of attention back there and speculation about that bruised face.”

“You’ll get use to the attention. The best defense is to never explain; they add to the facts anyway.”

* * *

Rae drove at the speed limit through town and turned toward the highway. “So what do you see me doing this next week and month?”

“Whatever interests you. This is a job, Rae, but it’s also a slice of freedom. You can acquire your own cases or share the work on mine. We’ll be partners all the way down the line. I figure it will take a couple weeks for you to decide on housing and get an office up and put together. Your work with your uncle is going to be event driven, so we’ll let that govern how you split your time during the week.”

“They’ve got a murder/suicide cleanup to deal with; I figured I would join them Monday to help out.”

“All I ask is that you carry a good cell phone so I can find you.”

“I turn it off when I’m having an interesting discussion with someone.”

“I remember. I can shout at your voice mail.”

She laughed and sorted out change for use later on the toll roads around Chicago. “It’s good to be back, Bruce.” There was something so comforting about the oldest of friends. For the first time in months she was with a friend she knew cared more about her than a case outcome. And there was something refreshing knowing Bruce had already encountered most of her bad habits, and would be more amused than offended when they inevitably reappeared.

“I’m glad you decided to say yes. I’ve missed having a partner who can talk through the cases, debate the details, and keep me company when the stakeouts last all hours. You’re going to let me pick up the tab for really nice office furniture too and not fuss about it.”

“That kind of welcome gift I’ll accept.” And it fit his nature; he was generous with his friends.

Rae glanced over at him. In years past she had been able to read him, but it was a skill she would need to reacquire. She felt a sudden uncertainty, that the gap between what she was certain of with him and what would have to be rediscovered after eleven years apart, might be vastly wider than she realized. People changed. Not allowing for that would be devastating if they took a misstep. “Bruce, one caveat? For now, it’s just business.”

Bruce just smiled. “Noted. Give me a few months to catch up on your last eleven years and then I’ll think about changing your mind.”

She wondered if when he knew the details, if he would still be of that mind-set. He had an image in his mind that was frozen from years ago, and so much about her had changed in those years. Maybe not in appearance, in habits, or in the memories they shared, but inside—she was nothing like the lady he remembered. She knew the changes had gone too deep in how she saw things in the world around her. Too many betrayals and hurts and failures had left their scars. The optimist he remembered had died a long time ago. “I hope you’re not disappointed with what you find.”

“I won’t be,” he reassured.

She studied the road and traffic ahead of them and smiled. That self-confidence fit what she remembered. He probably hadn’t changed as much as she had, which was a good thing.

5

Rae strapped on her watch and reached for her worn tennis shoes. This hotel had to have some sort of exercise room with a treadmill or bike. She shoved her room key into her pocket, picked up a large white hotel towel, and went to explore.

She’d turned down Bruce’s offer of company tonight, thinking she would catch a nap, watch some TV, and make it an early night after a long day of traveling. A two-hour nap had taken care of the desire for sleep, there was nothing on TV, and she was bored. Staying in the hotel room was not a workable option.

She found the workout room on the first floor just past housekeeping. The one occupant, a lady Rae recognized by sight as having a room a few doors down from her own, was walking at a fast clip on the treadmill.

Rae set the tension wheel on the stationary bike and cleared the mileage counter.

“Do you happen to have the time? The wall clock’s dead.”

Rae looked at her watch. “Seven twenty-two.”

“Thanks. I’ve got a late-night movie date.”

Rae settled into a smooth pace on the bike. “What’s playing these days?”

“We’re going to go see
Holiday Park
with James Roberts. I heard it was good. If not, at least Roberts is cute.”

“I’ll agree with that.” Rae slowly increased her cadence.

“Do you happen to know Joe Prescott?”

“The name isn’t familiar,” Rae replied, paying a bit more attention to the lady on the treadmill, as it became obvious she was looking for some conversation.

She was in her late twenties, in good shape. Her workout clothes were plain, but the jacket draped over the chair had a logo on the pocket from a gym Rae recognized as one that marketed itself as the LA gym of the stars.

“I know he lives somewhere near Justice but I haven’t been able to locate him.”

“I’ve met only a handful of town residents, but it strikes me that most know each other. Maybe someone at the café can help.”

“I think word is out that I’m a reporter; they don’t say much when I start asking questions.”

If she had realized it, she would have probably done less talking as well. “You work for the local paper?”

“I’m freelance with the
Chicago Daily Times
and the
National Weekly News
.” The lady slowed the treadmill pace. “Five miles. That’s plenty. Have you tried the hotel sauna?”

“They have one?”

“Down past the pool. I’m going to risk it.”

“I hope the movie turns out to be good.”

“So do I. First dates tend to be unpredictable.”

Rae understood exactly what she meant and shared a smile. The lady left.

Rae did fifteen minutes at a brisk pace on the bike and then slowed to cool down. She thought about visiting the sauna, but she wasn’t that desperate to talk to someone to want to search out a reporter. She returned to her hotel room.

* * *

A shower helped kill another twenty minutes of her evening. As Rae paced the hotel room towel drying her hair, she flipped through the channels on the TV again.

It was after 8 p.m. on a Saturday night; there was nothing on TV worth her time, and while she wasn’t lonely, the emotions were flittering just below the surface. She needed conversation and people and something happening around her. She tossed the remote back on the bed. She picked up her room key, cash, and a book.

The best way to understand a town was at night, when some of the surface clutter of businesses and shoppers faded away and most people were at home. Finding out what the nightlife was like would help her understand the pace of the town. She took the stairs down three flights and exited through the south doorway into the parking lot.

It was a cold night, but the wind was calm. Rae left her car in the hotel parking lot and walked across the street, retracing the way she had come through town earlier that day.

She headed toward the M&T Diner. She didn’t know how late it stayed open, but there had been a place next door to it that had also looked interesting. The lit sign had said Sir Arthur’s, and there had been a suit of armor visible through the tinted window.

Where did the cops in this town hang out when they were off duty? That would be an interesting place to find.

Rae crossed streets void of any traffic and others that were busy. She noted streetlights and alleyways. Soldiers called it reconnaissance. Cops called it patrol. She called it being smart. She very much wanted to start this job with her feet on the ground, knowing the territory and the people who lived here.

The white-collar-business guy who might drain a company pension fund, or snap and murder his wife, tended to go home every night. It was the guys who swiped wallets, did petty burglaries, had short tempers, and got into fights, who would hang out late on a Saturday night at a local establishment. She needed a network of people in that group who would talk to her about what they heard. The faster she had that network identified the better off she would be.

Rae opened the door to Sir Arthur’s, stood for a moment absorbing the music and the movements of people and with a smile walked inside. She’d spent a lot of time in such places over the years for they provided a convenient place to meet her FBI handler and pass along information. If she could get someone to take her up on a game of pool, she’d be right back in her comfort zone.

* * *

Nathan spotted the town’s new resident sitting at a round table to the left of the jukebox at Sir Arthur’s. He stopped. Rae’s car hadn’t been in the lot; he’d scanned license plates out of habit as he found a place to park. A small pile of peanut shells on the bread plate suggested she’d been here awhile.

Nathan looked around the room. He was on the prowl to find his mother. His report for the city council meeting was finally done and the lobbying to protect his budget was just beginning. She said she’d be over here to chat with the town’s fire chief, but Nathan didn’t see them. He changed his plans. He could pass on the report in the morning.

Rae was reading a book in a pub full of people. That piqued his interest, for in this group were several whom he knew would have taken a moment to stop by her table and say hello once they saw she was alone. She must have politely turned them all down. Nathan pocketed his gloves in his leather jacket and maneuvered through the crowd toward Rae’s table.

Rae slid out a chair for him with her foot without looking up. He changed his opinion of how aware she was of the room. He draped his jacket over the back. “Is it a good book?”

“My grandmother gave it to me and since I’m going to visit her tomorrow, I figured I ought to be able to say I actually read it.”

He smiled as he sat down. “Which ducks the question I asked.”

“I’m not into flowery historical prose. But the underlying true crime is interesting.” She marked her page and closed the book. She looked directly at him for the first time. Her blue eyes caught his attention again, for they were beautiful in their clarity. “You look tired, Sheriff.”

“Make it Nathan? I’m finally off duty.”

“Nathan it is.” She raised her hand, caught the waitress’s attention, and held up two fingers.

“What are we drinking?”

“Hot tea and honey, because I like it, and because if you don’t start babying that hoarse voice, you’re not going to have it tomorrow.”

He nodded at the practical assertion. “We’ll see if it works. I’ve got six ten-year-old boys in my Sunday school class; I’ll need more than a whisper.” He picked up a laminated sheet from the stand and thought about an appetizer from the diner next door to go with the drink. “I see you’ve found our town hangout. Were you also able to find Bruce?”

“I did.”

“He didn’t start the fight.”

Rae laughed. “I’ve known Bruce a long time; I imagine he didn’t avoid it either.” She leaned closer and confided, “He used to be better at ducking.”

She did indeed know Bruce well. “Am I by any chance stepping on his toes by sitting here?”

If they were involved, he would keep his distance out of respect for the friendship he had with Bruce. But if they weren’t . . . this town didn’t get many single ladies his age moving into town. A lady who understood his profession was a rarity, let alone one with a smile that made a man want to smile back.

“Bruce and I dated seriously eleven years ago. Now is an open question.”

Nathan remembered Bruce’s comments this afternoon; his friend wanted to revive the relationship. But eleven years—Nathan wavered on whether he should concede to his friend before he even made an effort to get to know Rae. A statute of limitations should apply. And tonight the idea of getting to know her better appealed to him a great deal. “That’s good to hear.”

Rae smiled back but let the remark pass.

* * *

The waitress brought over their drinks in heavy mugs and Nathan ordered a basket of onion rings from next door. “Are you settled okay at the Sunburst Hotel? I saw your Lexus there when I made rounds this evening.”

“It’s a comfortable place, a newer hotel than I expected to find in town.”

“We have a good amount of tourism. The Amish community, botanical gardens, Lincoln museum, the old Indian trading post—they are all within twenty miles of Justice.” He stopped his answer. “Sorry. I sound like the tourism director.”

“Your name is on the town; I figure you have a vested interest in seeing it prosper.”

“I do. And the name is both a blessing and a liability. Rae Gabriella—I’m guessing Spanish is in your background, maybe Italian. Am I close?”

“Yes to both.” She rested her chin on her fist. “You’re English? Scandinavian?”

“Probably both. If I go back four great-grandparents or so, a Neil Justice arrived in this area and started a trading post here in the 1800s. Legend has it he was a gunman who served in the army, was dishonorably discharged, and started working for the highest bidder. When those kinds of stories pass through the generations, it doesn’t inspire a lot of interest in tracing genealogies.”

“A case of too much family?”

“In this town, I never get away from family.” And given the status of things with his grandfather, he’d rather stay off the subject.