Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8 (3 page)

There were a lot of potential questions packed into that statement, but he decided to stick with the most relevant point. “Did it turn over at all?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Maybe I should say I’m hoping it’s the battery.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. All of a sudden he really wished the moon was a little brighter. He’d like to get a better look at her.

He stood up again, slowly. “Sorry, I don’t have my jumper cables with me. Where are you headed? I can give you a ride as far as Konigsburg.”

He sensed the brief hesitation before she replied. “I’m headed for Konigsburg actually. I live there.”

“Me too.” He turned toward her, holding the flashlight down so it wouldn’t dazzle her, then extended his hand. “Chico Burnside.”

“Andy Wells.” Her hand felt cool against his for a moment. “I know you, I think. You work for Tom Ames.”

“Right.” He nodded. He didn’t actually work for Tom, although Tom owned the Faro
.
But the simplest explanation was probably best in this case.

She sighed. “I’ll take you up on the ride, thanks. My phone doesn’t seem to work out here.”

“Probably between towers.” He started back toward his truck, hoping she’d follow. He had a feeling if he put a hand on her elbow, she’d bolt.

“Just a second—I need to get my stuff.”

He turned, shining the flashlight toward her car, and watched her remove a laptop case and a small cooler.

He frowned. “Lunch?”

She shook her head. “Water samples. Okay, that’s all I need for now.”

He started back to the truck again, pausing to open the passenger side door. “Kind of a mess in here, sorry.”

“That’s okay, I’m flexible.” She hoisted herself up to the seat and he noticed for the first time that she was wearing Timberlands with her fancy blazer.

Interesting.

Andy contemplated the man sitting across from her, his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched the road ahead. He was probably the biggest man she’d ever seen, undoubtedly the biggest she’d ever been this close to. The narrowed eyes made him look particularly ferocious—that, along with the long hair tied back at the nape of his neck, the clipped beard and moustache, and the fact that his hands were the size of cantaloupes.

He was the bouncer at the Faro, once one of the tougher bars in town, although now it was more like a restaurant and music venue. If she hadn’t recognized him, she wouldn’t have considered getting into the truck with him. Even now she had a few second thoughts, based on his scowl.

On the other hand, he’d just saved her a long walk, possibly a very long walk, back into cell phone range.

“What’s in the cooler?” He seemed to realize the question sounded abrupt. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

She shrugged. “Water samples, like I said. I work for the Texas Department of Environmental Quality.”

One of his dark eyebrows arched up. “The Texas Department of Environmental Quality sends you out to take samples in the middle of the night?”

Andy gave him a slightly grim smile. “The samplers were out earlier this afternoon. I just stopped to pick up the samples on my way back to town—I’ve been over toward Llano most of the day. We’re stretched a little thin right now.”

“Yeah. Aren’t we all.” He gave her a grim smile of his own.

The darkness seemed to make it a little easier to talk. “How did you happen to be out on this road?”

“I was checking out an act in Oltdorf. Decided to take the back road home.” He shrugged. “I was just kicking myself for not staying on the highway when I saw you there.”

“Lucky for me you did.” She settled back against the seat. “What kind of act were you checking out? And why?”

“I book talent for the Faro.” He shrugged again. “Oltdorf Hall had some roots rock bands this evening so I went over to see if they were any good.”

She took a moment to absorb that news. So he wasn’t just a bouncer after all.
And aren’t we the proper little snot—since when is being a bouncer a shameful job?
“So were they?”

He shook his head. “Not good enough. Right now we’re a solid middleweight club. We get big names a few times a year, but mostly we’re a good place for up and comers to build their rep. These guys sounded like they needed a few more months on the road to knock off the rough edges.”

Andy let herself smile a bit more warmly this time. “I was at the Faro during the Food and Wine Festival last fall. The music was great.”

He nodded. “It was. But the beer garden was too crowded during the festival. Come back some Saturday this summer. There’s more room to sit and less chaos.”

“I’ll do that.” She let her shoulders relax for what felt like the first time since she’d tried to start her car. “You’re from Konigsburg, aren’t you? I sort of remember you from high school.” He’d been a football star as she recalled. She wasn’t sure what had happened to him after that.

He nodded again. “Born there. My family still lives there. Most of them.”

“Do you live with your family?”

He gave her a slightly dry glance and she felt her face warm.
I wasn’t asking if you’re married, honest.

He shook his head. “I’ve got a place close to work. Your family’s from the burg too?”

“Right. Three generations. My brother and I are all that’s left in Konigsburg, though. My grandma died a couple of years ago and everybody else has moved away.”

“Who was your grandma?”

“Cora Jepsen.”

He smiled. Not grimly at all. “Right. Taught third grade. I didn’t have her but my brother did. Nice lady.”

“That’s her.” Andy felt a quick pang. Grandma had been gone for two years now but she still got a twinge when she remembered her.

The lights of Konigsburg glowed on the horizon ahead. Andy sighed. She’d have to call a mechanic tomorrow to see if she could get the car going, and she didn’t necessarily know a mechanic to call. Plus, getting the car fixed would make her late to the office and put her behind for the day. Maybe she should just get a rental so that she could take the samples in and take care of any bits of crucial business before she started calling potential mechanics.

“My brother Art owns a garage,” Chico Burnside said. “He could take you back to your car tomorrow and get it started. Probably just needs a new battery. He’s a good guy. He won’t try to charge for anything you don’t need.”

Apparently, along with booking talent he also read minds. She pulled out her cell phone which had miraculously regained its signal. “Do you have his number?”

“I do, but he won’t be there at this time of night. I’ll call him at home after I drop you off. He’ll help you. He’s the one who had your grandma for third grade.”

God bless Grandma!
“Okay.”

“Where’s your house?”

She pointed at the intersection ahead. “Turn left here and then left again on Novarro. It’s the brick bungalow at the end of the street.”

“Got it.”

A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of her driveway, and Andy began to gather her belongings.

“What’s your number?”

She stilled, trying to decide if he was making anything like a pass.

“So I can have Art call you,” he added with another slightly dry grin.

Her cheeks flushed warm.
Yeah, you’re a regular femme fatale.
“Oh. Sure. It’s 555-220-3012.”

He keyed the number into his phone, then paused.

Andy remembered suddenly that she was supposed to be getting out of his truck. Funny how comfortable it seemed in here. She picked up her laptop and sample cooler. “Thanks so much. I’d probably be walking back to town if you hadn’t driven up when you did.”

He shrugged. “Glad to do it.”

“Well…” She paused, trying to think of something else encouraging to say and coming up dry.
Want to come by for dinner some time?
No, that definitely wasn’t a good idea.

He opened his own door and came around to hers, opening it for her. “You need any help with all that?”

“I can manage.” She started up the walk to her front porch, turning slightly. “Good night. Thanks again.”

He nodded. “Any time.”

She was inside the house before she turned around again to look. He’d stayed at the curb until she got to the door, then pulled away.

Well, that was an interesting experience.
Of course,
interesting
wasn’t exactly the word she wanted, but she couldn’t think of the one that was.

And that was probably the end of it. She wasn’t the type for chance encounters with intriguing strangers, particularly not chance encounters that became something else.

Do you want it to become something else?

That wasn’t a question she wanted to think about right then. Or possibly ever. She closed the curtains, heading back toward the kitchen for a quick sandwich. Then the news. Then bed.

She paused for a moment at the kitchen door, blowing out a quick breath. In reality she had to admit—she wouldn’t mind seeing Chico Burnside again. She wouldn’t mind it at all.

Chico guided his truck up Paradise Street for the ritual check of his parents’ house. Kitchen light on. Reflected glow of a television screen in the family room. All quiet on the Burnside front.

He turned back toward Main, toward his duplex just off the avenue. He’d bought it a couple of years ago, although he was willing to bet the guy who rented the other side didn’t realize he was the landlord. Not many people in Konigsburg would have realized that. Most of them assumed he was one step up from being a derelict. Chico didn’t see any point in disabusing them of that idea either.

He wondered if that was what Andy Wells thought about him. Probably. The combination of his size and his job convinced most people he was a barely rehabbed ex-biker. He was willing to bet Tom Ames got a lot of credit for his tolerance in taking Chico on and making him a semi-honest man even though the odds had undoubtedly been against it.

He’d love to see the faces of some of the more upright citizens of Konigsburg if they ever learned Chico was actually part owner of the Faro himself, having invested in Tom’s enterprise once he’d gotten a reading on his intentions and his ability to make things happen. He’d taken the bouncer job to keep an eye on his investment, and it had turned out to be a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated.

Most of the time, he got a secret kick out of the difference between what people thought he was and what he really was. This evening, though, he wasn’t quite as pleased with it.

Because he knew, only too well, what the Jepsens and the Wellses and all the other people in Konigsburg would think about a woman like Andy going out with a terror like him. Probably the same thing Andy Wells herself would think.

You’ll never know if you don’t ask her.

Which probably meant he’d never know. He unlocked his front door and headed inside. For a man who looked like a lot of people’s worst nightmare, he sometimes behaved like a real wuss.

Chapter Three

Darcy didn’t realize how much she’d been stewing about the Barbecue King and his meat pronouncements until he showed up at the Rose for another cookout. This time Joe left the whole thing to her since his Significant Other, MG Carmody, was singing at a club in Austin and he’d taken the night off to go hear her. Jorge was running the restaurant, which he could do with one hand behind his back given the small number of diners they’d probably have, and Darcy was running the special barbecue dinner for the inn’s guests and anybody else who wanted to pay forty dollars for the privilege.

Joe swore they still made money, even after the King took his cut. Darcy was willing to believe it, given their cost per plate, but it didn’t make her any less resentful. So far as she could tell, all the King did was to throw some cheap cuts of meat on a low fire for twelve hours or so. She could do that. Hell, any chef with halfway decent skills could do that. Paying the King to do that struck her as a prime waste of capital.

And yet, and yet… She was professional enough to know that most regional cooking—with the exception of crap like Fluffernutter sandwiches—took skills that were passed down between generations. And those skills were rarely taught in culinary school or in high-dollar kitchens like the ones where she’d been working for most of her professional life. People who did barbecue the way the King did barbecue undoubtedly spent a lot of time learning how to do it right.

She could probably pick up the techniques a little faster than a novice, given that she already knew how various types of protein behaved in a variety of situations. But she’d still need some time to observe, to see what particular things he did in what particular order. And then figure out how much of what he was doing was really necessary and how much of it was traditional mumbo jumbo that she could skip.

And then possibly take over barbecue at the Rose. Or at the very least add another skill to her already bulging résumé. Who knew? Maybe her next job would be with a cutting edge place that wanted to use traditional techniques.

Besides, somewhere along the line her competitive gene had been activated. She was pretty sure the King was underestimating her. And that was always a dangerous thing to do.