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He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I know that.”
“The day is finally catching up with you, isn’t it?” His big body filled the office space, even as he slumped into the chair behind his desk.
“Day? This is a fiasco.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to say or what to do with herself. In her opinion he needed comfort, but he didn’t look very receptive. Any connection they’d shared in the months they’d been sporadically dating seemed a distant memory now.
Just the opposite of what she needed if anyone was going to believe they’d eloped last month.
“What do you need?”
“A cook,” he grumbled, scrubbing at his face.
“Wow. I was sure you’d say answers.”
“Those will come as Wallace and whoever else gathers the evidence. I know what Maria said and what I agreed to, but maybe it’s best to close the restaurant until we find someone to replace Tim.”
“Maybe. You’re running on little more than adrenaline as it is.”
“You sure you don’t have any experience with a grill? No basic cooking skills?”
“None that you want back there,” she said with a shake of her head. “I can probably manage to fill coffee cups and clear tables.”
His eyebrows shot up in false amazement. “Come on, surely you have to cook for yourself.”
“‘Have to’ being the operative phrase there. Domestic, I’m not. Salads, eggs, and cereal usually get the job done for me whenI get tired of take-out. Besides, a food handler’s license doesn’t come easy.”
“True.” He stared at her long enough that she wanted to fidget. “Take a seat, Hannah, you look exhausted yourself.”
“I’m fine,” she said, sinking into the only available chair.
He picked up the phone, started to dial, and then looked up at her. “You plan to just sit here while I try and track down a cook?”
“Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable describes my general state at the moment. Stay.”
“I could go upstairs and see if anyone took the bait. Or take a look at the notebook.”
“It’s in that godforsaken shorthand.” He dropped the phone back to the receiver. “What is wrong with me?”
She didn’t bother answering the rhetorical question. They were both on edge and it wasn’t likely to change soon.
“Here.” He turned to his computer and started keying something in. “Let’s see if anyone came poking around while we were out.”
While Bart cued up the video, she looked around at the relatively neat office with two tall filing cabinets on the wall behind him, the bulletin board covered with a calendar, employee schedule, and pages of inventory tacked alongside general procedure updates. A voided check caught her attention, but before she could get up and satisfy her curiosity with a closer look, he dropped a plain manila folder down on her side of the desk.
She read the name on the tab and her palms went damp.Mary Lou Englewood. Shooting him an arch look he ignored, she opened the file and sat back to read the details on the woman she hoped was Tim’s new girlfriend.
There were a few candid shots of the woman and her rig in and around the truck stop and Hannah flipped throughthem quickly, taking note of the truck plates and logos on the containers.
The next page was a standard background sheet. She reviewed basic stats covering the woman’s current name, address and age, along with a short list of also-knowns. Apparently Mary Lou had divorced twice and reclaimed her maiden name each time.
“Damn.”
She glanced up, but the monitor was turned toward him. “Problem?”
“Yes and no. Come on around.”
