Chapter 39
Elenie
Roman strode into Diner 43 just before ten the next morning, and an aeronautical display of butterflies let loose in her stomach.
His face was set and fierce, his long strides eating up the floor as he crossed to the counter. Anyone watching them would have taken the way his gaze raked over her as possibly aggressive, definitely unfriendly. Elenie saw the concern in his intensity as clearly as if he’d shouted it, and knew from his rigid posture how hard he fought not to reach for her. Desperate to fling herself at him, she recognized the conflict. Why was life this complicated?
Lifting the tray she’d just loaded up, Elenie shot him a quick glance.
“I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Business had been steady all morning and she knew she didn’t have much time to spare. Delivering a selection of cooked breakfasts and drinks to a family of four, she emptied the tray and headed around the back of the counter.
Roman slid a takeout bag and an empty disposable drinks cup toward her.
“Get rid of this for me, would you?”
He stood like a watchful statue, brooding and serious. His eyes never left her face, fingers tap-tapping on his thigh.
“Sure.”
Elenie chucked the featherlight cup into the trash can and paused with her hand on the screwed-up paper bag. It wasn’t empty. Reaching down to one of the lower shelves beneath the counter, she stuffed it to the very back, behind a tall stack of crockery. Then she retrieved the takeout box she’d filled earlier from its position nearby, right in the corner where no one else would see it. Not that there was anyone else but her who might. You still didn’t mess around with a special order like this one, though.
Placing the box on the counter, Elenie pushed it toward him.
“Your donuts, Chief Martinez.”
He closed his large hands on either side of the cardboard and picked it up. One eyebrow flickered when he registered the weight.
She held his eyes for a moment.
“I hope you enjoy them.”
Roman gave her a brief nod. Elenie could smell his aftershave, his cleanness, in the air around him. A yearning twisted in her stomach. He looked like he wanted to say something and the silence stretched heavily between them. Then Delia clattered another pair of plates through the serving hatch and the opportunity passed.
Thanks to Dean and his laziness—plus a huge slice of knee-tremblingly good luck—inside the box, beneath a wedge of paper napkins and some artfully displayed donuts, lay the handgun. In used condition with who knew how many careful owners. She suspected Roman had guessed what was inside. Whether the gun would link back to any crimes was a gamble but Elenie knew for sure that not every family made late-night collections like this. And the instruction to toss it into the lake? Well, that wasn’t your average way to pass on an unwanted firearm.
She’d had to get it out of her house, couldn’t wait for a meetup with Dorsey. It was far too dangerous to hang onto the gun any longer—she had nowhere safe to stash it. Instead, she’d messaged the special agent a full explanation last night, along with the address in Saginaw where they’d made the collection and a description of the two guys they’d dealt with. Dorsey could arrange a handover of the evidence with Roman, and Elenie had not a single care if Chief Deputy Shawn Booth didn’t like it.
He wasn’t the one who had to live with Frank.
New arrivals through the door of the diner made them both turn around. Roman bit off a curse as his mother and father called out their surprise to see him, his fingers reflexively tightening their grip on the box in his hands.
“What wonderful timing—we didn’t expect this!”
Ava reached up to cup his face, planting a kiss on his cheek. His dad gave him a slap on the back. Elenie shot them a careful, guarded smile and moved quickly away, grabbing the next order from the hatch.
“If you’d like to find a table, I’ll be right with you,”
she said politely over her shoulder.
Serving two groups and taking an order from another, Elenie took a few calming breaths and found that Roman had introduced his mom and dad to Otto. The four of them were now sitting together at his table in the corner, chatting like old friends. Well, three of them were. Roman still had one hand on the takeout box and an exasperated expression on his face. She shared his concern. Of all the days, why had his mother and father chosen this one to come into the diner? She was so unsure about how to play this.
“Hello, everyone. Do you know what you’d like yet or shall I give you more time?”
Reserved but friendly, she maintained a little distance between herself and the table.
Roman’s eyes held an apology. He gave her the smallest of shrugs in .
“what the hell?”
kind of way. Ava and Elias did their best to rein in their natural urge to shower her with attention. They placed their orders in stilted voices, flicking glances at Roman for his approval as they chose from the menu.
Otto watched them all with the genial half-smile he wore most of the time. He raised his eyebrows at Elenie, blue eyes sparkling.
“It must be my lucky day to share the morning with such special company.”
When she returned to the table with their food, a tea to go for Roman, and a refill of coffee for Otto, Ava was asking about the box. Elenie’s heart stuttered in her chest. Her eyes flicked first to Ava, then to the innocuous cube of white cardboard and finally to Roman’s face. He pushed the box casually away from his mother, tucking it against the wall at the far end of the table.
“Donuts for the team.”
His calm and steady tone gave nothing away.
“A bit of bribery now and then keeps the wheels turning smoothly.”
He tipped his takeout cup.
“That’s why I can’t stay long this morning. It’s dangerous to keep the guys from their sugar fix.”
Everyone chuckled and the crisis passed. Elenie clenched her hands on the empty tray so no one would notice the tremble in her fingers. Stress and sleep deprivation were taking their toll on her nerves. She needed to get a grip.
“Would anyone like any sauces or more napkins?”
Behind her the door of the diner opened again. A subtle charge seemed to run through Roman’s body. Achingly aware of him with every nerve ending she possessed, Elenie turned her head and looked slowly over her shoulder.
It was quickly becoming another day measured in WTFs per hour.