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Mia stood, smiling. “Okay. How’s Aaron?” She didn’t care how her ex was faring as much as wondered what would happen to him now that she’d pressed charges for assault.
“He’s out on bail with instructions to leave you alone. If he contacts you or tries to see you, call me.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Ready, Tucker?” Cruz asked.
Tucker stood, grabbing his mug and taking a big gulp. “Yep. Mia, I’ll leave dishes and food on the porch for Wrigley. Chet, I’ll be in touch.”
Wrigley whined and ran to the window overlooking the porch, watching the men leave.
She waved and leaned against the counter, watching Chet for a few moments. He mixed and flipped and stirred, wordlessly assembling their meal with ease. “Are you upset about the dog? I can tell Tucker no.”
“I hate that you need a dog to protect you.” The oven dinged, and he slid out a tray of rolls.
The catch in his voice surprised her. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
Sighing, he set down his spatula and shoved a hand through his messy hair. “I never let Riley have a dog. I spouted off those same damn reasons. This isn’t the same. This is your dog, your life, your place. I don’t have a say. But in that moment, I heard myself telling her no. Saw the disappointment in her eyes. I should have let her have a puppy.”
“Oh, Chet.” She embraced him, a position that was starting to feel more natural than breathing.
He dropped his chin to the top of her head. “You should keep Wrigley. And we should eat.”
“You think Bobby will be okay with it?” Hope lifted her voice as the idea of owning the adorable pooch grew on her.
“We’ll head to town and ask Missy. Besides, I have some questions for her.”
She inhaled, breathing in the scents of the freshly cooked breakfast and Chet’s soap. They’d have one more moment of peace, of normalcy, before tackling the pile of crap awaiting them.
* * *
Chet wipedhis hands on the thighs of his jeans before climbing out of his truck. His palm still tingled where Mia’s hand had rested against his. He held her hand the whole way into town, and he needed to shake the feelings of excitement and a giddiness he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager before they spoke with Missy Truly. His head wouldn’t be on straight if he kept wondering what the rest of Mia’s body felt like.
Wispy clouds dotted the blue sky. The sun peeking between the white spots. April needed to make up its damn mind. Rain or sun. Today he’d choose to be grateful for the lack of moisture falling from the sky.
Mia met him at the front of the truck. Wrigley followed behind her. “Does Missy know we’re here?”
He nodded. “I didn’t want to just show up out of the blue. I didn’t tell her about the dog though. Figured it’d be harder to say no with the mutt in her face. She’s always had a soft spot for animals. Hates that Bobby hunts.”
The mention of one of Bobby’s favorite pastimes brought back the real reason he’d wanted to talk with Missy. According to Tucker, Eddy had confessed his lie of Bobby’s whereabouts to protect his uncle—who was hunting alone at the time in question. With no alibi and spotty reception which made it impossible for Lincoln or Cruz to get ahold of him. But Missy might have some answers that could help find Bobby, as well as clues regarding any suspicions around him. Because there was no way in hell Bobby was the man they were looking for.
The maple door with an etched glass window in the center swung open, and Missy clapped her hands under her chin. At close to seventy, she still stood tall and proud. Gray hair brushed the tops of her broad shoulders. She wiped her hands on a white apron tied around her waist that hid the the top half of her blue and yellow floral dress. “Mornin’ you two. Just pulled out some muffins to share over coffee.”
Chet strode toward Missy and pulled her into a hug. “You should’t have,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her plump cheek.
“Nonsense.” She slapped his shoulder then aimed a sweet smile at Mia. “Besides, I still need to get to know this young lady. And ain’t nothing better than chatting over fresh baked goods.”
“I couldn’t agree more, ma’am.” Mia extended a hand. “We’ve met once before, but it’s nice to see you again.”
Missy grabbed her hand, resting her free palm over Mia’s knuckles. “No ma’am’s around her, dear. Call me Missy. Who is this big guy?”
“He’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Chet said, cringing inwardly about the upcoming conversation. Based on Missy’s demeanor, either no one had spoken with her about what’d been going on, or she didn’t quite understand how bad this situation was.
Missy rooted her fists on her hips. “One of the reasons?”
Not wanting to get into the details standing in the tiny postage stamp of a yard, surrounded by neighbors, he dipped his chin toward the door. “Let’s head inside.”
Missy gave an exaggerated sigh and led the way. “Muffins are getting cold anyway.”
