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Tori began to describe her. “Late sixties. About this high.” Tori held her hand to indicate the woman was about five feet tall. “Short, gray curly hair. Wore glasses on a chain around her neck.”
The waitress still looked puzzled. “There is no one here that fits that description.”
“Are you sure?” Tori was certain she had given the woman an accurate assessment.
“Absolutely. It’s just me and my three sisters. My dad owns the place, so I would know if someone worked here who looked like that.”
“So, no one who even remotely resembles her works here? Not even a couple of weeks ago?”
“No, hon. Sorry.”
“But I spoke to her last week when I came in for donuts. You were at the cash register.” Tori was becoming impatient.
“Yes, I remember you, but I never saw you speak to anyone else. Not to my recollection.” The waitress was giving Tori an “are you all right?” kind of look.
“So you don’t recall me talking to anybody? Ever?”
“Listen, sweetie, I don’t keep track of who my customers talk to every time they come in here. But I know who works here, and that lady you described does not.” The waitress was getting a little exasperated.
Tori knew she hadn’t imagined it. How would she have known to go to Ringo’s at that exact day and time?
“OK. Thanks. Sorry to have bothered you.”
“No bother. Maybe it was a different diner or coffee shop?” The waitress could see the look of concern on Tori’s face and offered an alternate explanation.
“Yeah. Maybe.” Tori smiled but knew exactly where she had spoken to the mysterious woman. It was right there, only a few feet away from where she was standing.
In the weeks that followed, she maintained the status quo. He had been unusually quiet. Almost kind. She wondered if anyone had seen her that night and told him. He hadn’t pressed her for sex, and if he had, she would have brought down the hammer. She surely wasn’t going to have sex with someone who was doing God knows what with other women.
She sent a text message to the psychic woman, Luna. Now she had more questions that needed answers. Luna texted her back to meet with her the week following Tori’s origami workshop. She had hoped it would be sooner, but she could wait. She had waited this long. What was another two weeks?
Chapter Thirteen
Marshal Gaines couldn’t remember the last time he had been so nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a woman spend the night either. He realized that Luna would be staying in Carter’s room. But still. He hired a professional cleaning service, which made sure everything was spotless. He wasn’t a messy person, but he wanted his home to be pristine considering it needed a lot of work in the décor department. He wasn’t sure what arrangements he should make for dinner. Dine out? Eat home? Takeout? Grill? He peered into the refrigerator. He had two rib-eyes, salad fixings, and asparagus. He then checked the pantry. A few Idaho potatoes. He would offer to cook, but if she wanted restaurant food, that would be fine with him as well. He would leave the decision to Luna. Although, he fancied the idea of cooking together. He knew they worked well in the field. Cooking would be a good opportunity to see how well they worked in the kitchen. Preparing a meal with someone was like choreography. You needed to move in sync with the other person.
He smiled as he thought about having that wild woman in his kitchen. They would share a bottle of wine, cook, then sit by the fire and have dessert. Dessert? He snapped his fingers. Then he remembered he had a pint of ice cream in the freezer. That should work. He knew Luna wasn’t much of a dessert person, but she had ordered ice cream or gelato on more than one occasion. Satisfied he had the dinner part of the evening under control, his mind moved on to breakfast for the next morning. Eggs? Check. Bacon? Check. English muffins? Check. He was beginning to relax, knowing there was enough food for two meals for both of them.
His next challenge was what to wear. How casual? Jeans and a navy-blue long-sleeved cashmere button-down shirt? Why not? Unless they would go out to dinner, then he’d put on a blazer. But he really hoped they would stay in.
He checked Carter’s room to make sure there weren’t any adolescent remains such as dirty socks, laundry, stinky sneakers, and who knows what else. He knew he was being a bit obsessive, but he wanted Luna to be comfortable. The cleaning people did the laundry and put fresh linens on both beds. Clean towels were in place in the bathroom, and a clean set for Luna was on Carter’s bed.
He took another long look around. The place was acceptable. He thought fresh flowers for the table would add a nice touch. Nothing too girlie. He phoned the local florist and spoke to Nancy. He explained he was having a guest for the weekend and he wanted to spruce up the dining-room table, but he didn’t want it to be overdone. She said she knew exactly what do to. Two hours later, she arrived with a rectangular wooden box with an arrangement of greenery including eucalyptus and white dogwood branches. It made the long plank table that once served as a door look a little less like a flea-market find. It was just the right touch.
Then he thought about wine. He had a very nice bottle of Seamus Olde Sonoma Cabernet Reserve he could serve with the steaks. It was a sixty-five-dollar bottle someone had given him as a housewarming gift. Maybe it would help warm up the house that coming night, he thought to himself. He checked the balloon wineglasses and polished them. Dinnerware, flatware, and cloth napkins were in the pantry. Music? He went through his vinyl record collection and pulled out a Wes Montgomery album. It was classic California smooth jazz, a style Montgomery had made famous. Keeping in line with the genre, he also set aside albums by Earl Klugh and George Benson. That should cover a couple of hours. He checked the liquor cabinet. He also had a bottle of vermouth they could have after dinner in front of the fireplace. “Get a grip, Gaines,” he said out loud. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Then he remembered he should check that he had a decent pair of loungewear. Normally when he puttered around the house, he wore sweatpants and a T-shirt, or a U.S. Marshal sweatshirt. Did he have something he could put together so he didn’t look like a gym rat or a slob? He sprinted into his bedroom and rifled through his drawers. He dug out a pair of gray flannel pants, sniffed them to see how fresh they were. Not enticing. They must have been sitting at the bottom of the drawer since he moved in. They would need to go into the wash. He looked at the digital clock on the footstool that served as a nightstand. He had at least four hours before Luna arrived. He dug through another drawer and found a new U.S. Marshal warm-up jacket he had been saving.For what?He couldn’t remember.Some special activity?Luna coming for the weekend fit the bill. The warm-up jacket was gray and navy. It would look good with the pants, casual but put-together. Thankfully, his moccasins were in good shape. He scanned the room to see if there was anything else he or the cleaning people might have left behind. Nope. Just the two items he had in his hand. He bolted down the stairs to the basement and tossed the clothes in the washer. He spotted a few old trophies from when he played baseball. Should he put them on display? He quickly thought,Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t need any “Glory Days” reminders. Such a guy thing.He climbed back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Then he thought about candles. Did he have any? Would that be over the top? Maybe a quick trip to the drugstore and get one for the kitchen and one for the bathroom. That wasn’t too fussy. Or weird. Or was it? Who could he ask? Minnie. He pulled out his cell and punched speed dial.
“Hello, mate! To what do I owe this pleasure?” Minnie’s Yorkshire accent always made Gaines smile.
“Hello, Minnie. How are you today?”
“I’m ducky, love. And you?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“What are you doing on such a lovely morning?”
“Luna is coming this afternoon to help me decide what to do with my house.”
