Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
After re-entering Joanie’s, Betsy kept her head down and walked straight to the restroom. Once there she took refuge in one of the empty stalls and slowly slowed the pounding of her heart.
Her strength of self-control had won the struggle between what might be a future of possibility and all her mistakes from the past. Still, she couldn’t explain the split-second feeling she’d had from Cain’s kiss out in the parking lot.
One that seemed to put a crack in the barricade she’d built around events better left locked away.
A few minutes later she made a quick stop at the checkout counter. Chatted a couple minutes with her friend. Just long enough to convince her there was nothing to tell ... Cain was just a friend. Then Betsy grabbed a to-go cup of soda and headed out the front door.
She shivered with the lukewarm air blowing from her car vents.
Living at the edge of town had its good points, one being it only took five to ten minutes to get from any place in Crayton to her home.
Still, her car should have warmed up by now.
She shivered again. Someone in the maintenance shop needed to look at her car’s heater system.
Her thoughts turned to what she’d just witnessed in the glare of her car’s headlights as she exited Joanie’s parking lot.
There’d been nothing unusual about Cain and another man shooting the breeze as they stood by their trucks.
Always seemed like men would rather carry on a conversation in the dark than the light of day.
Maybe it gave them more courage to play out the bragging rights they were sharing.
Something about this scene had grabbed her attention and shouted a warning, though. Like the first night she’d caught Phillip making a drug deal years ago.
The split second her headlights had flashed on the two men in the overflow parking lot, she’d sensed something clandestine.
Cain had quickly crouched behind a truck.
Meanwhile, the unknown man had stepped back into the shadows.
Both defensive moves. What were they afraid of? What were their secrets?
Maybe she should circle the block. Phone-video whatever was taking place. See if her instincts were right.
Then what?
She couldn’t call her uncle the sheriff, he was still laid up, recuperating in St. Louis.
And if she called Acting Sheriff JB, who also happened to be her brother-in law, or Deputy Evans?
They’d probably ask her for more proof than just some dark images in a parking lot.
Even her sister Marcy would tell her she was letting her imagination get the better of her.
Maybe she was mixing the past with the present and coming up with improbable situations.
Still...why had Cain and the other man dodged the lights?
“Stop it, Betsy,” she said to herself and the empty car. “Not every man out there is going to be like Phillip. He was one of a kind.”
Besides, Cain had worked for the DEA a lot of years, and she doubted taking a leave from the Agency was all it took to not still have the split-second reactions and instinct for self-preservation agents needed. Since he’d been back in town, the only person she’d seen him talk to very much was JB.
At least, it had been until tonight. Now she wondered just how many friends Cain actually had around Crayton.
Less than an hour ago she’d seriously considered Cain.
The kiss had been unexpected, but one she’d longed for back in high school.
One she’d never gotten then. Tonight had been enough to let herself think she might have finally found a man she could trust. She didn’t have to dwell on that any longer.
Men with secrets weren’t allowed in her life ever again.
Especially ones involved in drugs. A DEA agent like Cain was more than familiar with where, how and what was available on the drug scene.
She’d bet hard-earned cash he’d hooked up with his local supplier only steps from Joanie’s front door.
Her headlights had been at the right place, at the right time to catch him less than thirty minutes after kissing her.
Phillip used to crawl out of their bed minutes after making love, leave the house for thirty minutes and come back high. She would not live like that again. Not ever.
Cain had been the boy she’d dreamed of back in high school, but a lot of hard lessons had been learned since then. There’d been nothing between them back then. There’d be nothing between now.
She pulled into her driveway and pressed the door opener on the visor, then drove inside the attached two-car garage.
The opener’s overhead lights lit the way, and her garage motion lights illuminated the surroundings with their bright halogen glow.
Lamps inside the house were always programmed to come on at six o’clock, which had long since passed tonight.
Walking to the door leading into the kitchen, her gaze landed on the snow blower she still hadn’t got ready for bad weather.
One more thing to add to her to-do list. She unlocked the door, stepped inside.
Reset the security panel on the wall. And headed straight to bed, barely taking time to brush her teeth and wash her face.
Bone-tired, she crawled under the covers, ready to get some sleep.
The encounter with Cain, the kiss, the shadowy image in the parking lot all merged with her memories, stirring the past few years to life.
She could face them down tonight. They were only memories.
Memories didn’t leave a bruise. At least not physically.
She envisioned her nightly meditation view of the beach, imagined the sound of rolling waves and seagulls flying overhead. Slowly, she drifted off. Four hours later she opened her eyes. Still tired, but at least somewhat rested.
As the owner of Peyton’s, the town’s premier auto dealership, Betsy made it a point to be in her office, or on the lot, before eight every morning except Sunday.
On days like this, when she hadn’t fallen back asleep after waking in the middle of the night, she came in earlier.
She’d arrived about five fifteen this morning. The lot lights were still glowing.
Like every other Saturday morning, she pulled up the sales numbers for the week on her computer.
They looked great. Right on track to make her year-end goal.
Of course, a lot could happen in the coming months.
If those numbers held, she’d be able to seriously consider opening another dealership.
Where to locate was still on the drawing board, but she’d narrowed it down to—
A blast of frigid air shattered the warmth in Betsy’s office. Had she forgotten to lock the outside door when she arrived? Missed the jiggle of a door lock being jimmied? Overlooked the muffled sound of breaking glass?
Reactively, she jerked open the bottom right-hand drawer of her desk.
Locking her fingers into the notch on the sliding hideaway panel, she felt less alone just knowing an alarm button hid inches away.
The ammo and gun, her uncle had trained her to shoot years ago, lying beside the alarm made her even less afraid.
Footsteps approached from the far end of the showroom.
Closer and closer. Finally, she heard the easy whistling of her service center manager, Earl.
Every morning a different song, a different loudness, a different feel.
She eased the drawer closed and glanced at the clock on the wall.
Six-thirty. Earl Millerton was always on time.
She was the one jittery as hell this morning.
“You’re here early, boss,” he said, walking into her office and laying the day’s work schedule on the corner of her desk.
“Figured I’d get a head start on the day. This time of year, you never know what the weather may be like by afternoon.” The statement wasn’t entirely a lie. Weather forecasts had been predicting rain and falling temperatures by six tonight, maybe earlier.
“Gonna be a lot of fender benders and ditch calls with the freezing rain. If it changes to snow, the roads’ll be slicker than a water slide.” Earl zoomed his hand in a downward motion. “I figure the tow trucks’ll get their first workout of the new year.”
“True. What little snowfall we got in December didn’t require any major planning.”
“From what I’ve read in The Old Farmer’s Almanac, January and February are gonna give us a run for our money.”
Betsy smiled. Earl always stayed up on all the new automotive designs and mechanical updates.
She could also count on his sage advice according to the latest Farmer’s Almanac for weather predictions.
Some of his garden planting guidance helped her every spring.
For now, she’d follow his weather advice… along with the local weatherman.
Ice and snow were heading straight across Missouri in a line from Springfield to the south all the way north of Jefferson City to Interstate 70. The lake area appeared dead center for the worst.
The town of Crayton and three surrounding counties relied on Peyton’s and three other dealerships in the extended lake area, plus a couple of road service companies, to help keep the roads clear of fender benders.
Never mind all-out crashes. Bracing for the harsh winter weathermen had predicted for this year, local garages had banded together to lease extra wreckers.
She’d volunteered to house them on the back lot of her dealership.
“Are the trucks gassed and ready?” she asked.
“Ready to roll. Me and Bret will be on the two flat rollbacks.” Earl shook his head. “What with one of the mechanics out with the flu, we’ll be short a driver for the three lightweight wreckers assigned to us.”
“I can handle a tow truck.” Cain Connery’s voice reverberated across the room.
Betsy jerked, knocking her coffee cup hard enough that warm liquid sloshed onto her desk. “You scared the daylights out of me. Where the heck did you come from?”