Chapter 39
City Limits Café
By the time they stepped down the courthouse steps, the late-morning sun had burned away the last of the mountain haze.
Liz Harper stretched slightly and smiled.
“Well,” she announced brightly, “I don’t know about anyone else, but watching lawyers argue for an hour has made me absolutely starving.”
Deck chuckled beside her.
“City Limits?” he suggested.
April clapped her hands.
“Oh yes. That’s perfect.”
Reid glanced toward Eleanor.
“Your town,” he said. “Lead the way.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes but smiled.
“Fine. But if my mother embarrasses me in public, I’m blaming all of you.”
Liz slipped her arm through Eleanor’s.
“Oh sweetheart,” she said cheerfully, “that ship sailed the day you were born.”
City Limits Café buzzed with the easy rhythm of lunchtime when they stepped inside. The smell of burgers, coffee, and grilled onions filled the air.
Willow looked up from behind the counter and grinned.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”
Eleanor laughed.
“Hey, Willow.”
Willow’s gaze traveled across the group behind her.
“And she brought half the county with her.”
April waved.
“Lunch break.”
Willow grabbed menus.
“Come on then,” she said. “I’ll put you, folks, in the corner before you scare my regulars.”
They slid into a large table by the windows. Lawrence settled beside Liz, taking in the room, while Reid slid in next to Eleanor, and Deck and April claimed the opposite side.
As they crossed the café, several people waved.
“Hey, Counselor.”
“Afternoon, Reid.”
“April!”
Liz looked around with open delight.
“This place is wonderful,” she said as they settled in.
Willow dropped the menus.
“Coffee all around?” she asked.
Orders flew around the table.
Willow paused beside Reid.
“You want the usual?”
Reid grinned.
“You know it.”
Willow nodded knowingly and headed toward the kitchen.
Liz raised an eyebrow.
“Oh my. You’re a regular.”
Reid shrugged.
“Occupational hazard of working across the street.”
April leaned toward Liz conspiratorially.
“He eats here so often, Willow’s thinking about giving him his own booth.”
Reid sighed.
“Thank you, April. That was very helpful.”
Liz laughed.
“Oh, I like her.”
“I like you too,” April said promptly.
The door chimed again.
A tall man stepped inside and paused when he saw the group gathered near the window.
“Well now,” he said dryly. “Looks like half the courthouse relocated.”
Eleanor glanced up and smiled.
“Burke.”
She motioned him over.
“Liz, Lawrence, this is Sheriff Burke Scott.”
Burke shook Lawrence’s hand.
“Good to meet you, sir.”
Liz smiled warmly.
“Ah, so you’re the famous Sheriff Scott.”
Burke glanced toward Eleanor.
“That good or bad?”
“Depends on the story,” Liz said sweetly.
The table laughed.
Burke nodded toward Reid and Deck.
“Didn’t realize we were holding a summit meeting.”
Deck gestured toward an empty chair.
“Pull one up, Sheriff.”
Burke shook his head.
“Can’t. Got a county to run.”
He tipped his head toward the Harpers.
“Nice meeting you both.”
Then he headed back out the door.
Liz watched him go with interest.
“You certainly keep impressive company.”
Eleanor smiled.
“It’s a small town.”
Lunch arrived in a cheerful clatter of plates.
Conversation flowed easily—Liz asking April about the courthouse, Lawrence discussing a case with Reid, Deck teasing Eleanor about small-town gossip.
After a while, Liz leaned back slightly and looked around the table. Her expression softened.
“Oh, Ellie,” she said warmly. “You’ve really created a life here.”
The table quieted.
“We miss you every day in Charleston,” Liz continued gently, “but seeing you here, with all these wonderful people…”
She gestured toward the table.
“I can feel how much they care about you. And that makes a mother very happy.”
Eleanor squeezed her hand.
“I’m happy here,” she said softly.
Reid’s knee brushed hers under the table and didn’t move away.
He glanced at her. Something warm flickered across his face.
For the first time in a long time, the word home didn’t feel like something she was borrowing.
Lawrence leaned back slightly, studying the room.
“Well,” he said calmly, “it appears our daughter has surrounded herself with good people.”
Deck lifted his glass.
“That she has.”
A moment later, Reid leaned slightly toward Eleanor and lowered his voice.
“Your Irish bloodhound of a detective looks pretty comfortable here.”
Eleanor elbowed him.
“Be nice.”
Deck’s head lifted immediately from across the table.
“I heard that.”
Reid blinked.
“You weren’t supposed to.”
Deck leaned back in his chair, one brow lifting.
“Son,” he said in that unmistakable soft Irish brogue, “I spent twenty-five years as a homicide detective. You whisper about as quietly as a foghorn in Dublin Harbor.”
Eleanor laughed before she could stop herself. Then the rest of the table joined in.
Liz wiped a tear from her eye.
“Oh, I adore him.”
Lawrence nodded calmly.
“He’s been watching over Ellie since Charleston.”
Deck shrugged modestly.
“Well, someone had to.”
Then he gave Reid a slow, sideways look.
“And besides,” he added dryly, “if I’m the bloodhound, that makes you the fox, doesn’t it?”
Reid raised both hands in surrender.
“Well, now I feel thoroughly judged.”
“You should,” Deck replied cheerfully.
More laughter rolled around the table.
Outside the café windows, Sylva carried on its quiet afternoon rhythm. Inside, the table felt warm and comfortable—like family.
Eleanor’s gaze drifted to the street.
A black SUV rolled slowly past the café.
Lila Grant.
The windows were tinted, but Eleanor didn’t need to see inside to know the camera was rolling.
The warmth at the table thinned.
Not gone.
Just…fragile.