Chapter Twelve
Main Street Diner
Jake Hayes was intrigued that Sam had asked him to meet up. Particularly the day after he’d pulled her boyfriend over.
Jake didn’t care for rejection, but it was what it was. It didn’t change the fact he hated Nate Bennet, Sam Price involvement or no.
So, yeah, he’d pulled Nate over when he usually would have ignored it—he was a detective after all, not a road cop. But he hadn’t been able to resist.
Maybe he’d been hoping for a fight he didn’t get. But he’d gotten to write Bennet a ticket and that was good enough in Jake’s book.
Call him petty. He didn’t care.
Sam stepped into the diner in her typical speed-demon manner. He couldn’t deny that he still found her attractive and intriguing. He couldn’t deny the fact that she’d chosen Bennet rankled.
But he was a grown man.
And he was a patient man.
Sam slid into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me, Jake.”
“Anytime.” He was expecting a flash of annoyance or something a little censuring, but her expression was placid, and she didn’t jump into any accusations. Instead, her dark eyes took in the busy room around them. “Did you order?”
“A little early for lunch for me. I’m good with coffee,” he said, pointing to his mug.
“I could use some of that myself.” She gestured to the waitress, who gave her a nod.
“So, what can I do for you, Sam?” he asked, keeping his easy demeanor in place.
“Well, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about your father.”
Jake credited nearly twenty years of law enforcement training and experience for being able to keep his expression blank even as the shock slammed into him.
His father.
Despite all his training and experience, he found himself shifting in his seat. “I have to admit, that’s not what I expected when you asked to meet up.”
She smiled with a mixture of humor and sympathy. “I get that. But I’m looking into a case, and your dad’s name came up. Nothing nefarious. He was just friends with someone I’m looking into, and I want to get the whole picture.”
The whole picture. Of Charles Hayes. A strange, vague wave of grief moved through him—a surprise, considering. “He died twenty-five years ago, Sam.”
“I know. If it’s too difficult or—”
“It’s not difficult.” Jake never let it be. “Look, he was an okay dad for as old as he was, but not the greatest guy, as my mother would be the first to tell you. As any woman in his vicinity would tell you. Like the wife he had when he knocked up my mom, you know, not his wife, with me.”
“O … oh.”
The waitress poured Sam’s coffee, topped off his. He waited to answer until she left, though he wasn’t sure why.
“Yeah, oh. Not an evil guy. Just a … careless one.” Not a bad dad. Just a careless one. Yeah, careless summed up Charles Hayes in a lot of ways. To the very end.
“Did you know about his time in the service?”
“Not much. I know he went to Vietnam. He was one of those guys who talked about it like it was the grand glory days—which I always took to mean he was one of those guys who hadn’t actually seen any action.”
Sam’s empathetic expression didn’t change, and she didn’t waver off course. She would have made a good detective, he thought. He considered being a detective about ten moral high ground steps above being a private investigator.
“Was he involved in any veteran’s groups or anything of the like?”
Jake scratched a hand through his hair. This was just …
bizarre. He didn’t think much about his dad.
It had been so long since he’d died, and even before that the custody his parents had shared was more of a Dad will take you for a weekend when he feels like it than something fifty-fifty.
Charles Hayes had been an old man—or seemed like one—by the time Jake had been old enough to remember. When he’d died…
“Sam, I was fourteen.”
She smiled a little sheepishly. “I know. I’m sorry. I just … I’m going to be digging into him a little bit, but I thought I’d come to you first, so it didn’t feel … shady, I guess.”
“Well, that’s considerate.” He smiled at her, no hard feelings.
That was the problem with Sam. He understood her. She was a damn good investigator, stubborn and thorough, and a decent human being.
Except for the whole shacking up with Bennet thing.
“Just … one more question,” Sam said into the companionable silence. “You don’t have to answer, but … how did he die?”
“Hunting accident. I’m not exaggerating when I say he was a careless man. They never even found his body.”
Jake watched her eyes narrow. Keying into something she thought was interesting to whatever she was investigating. “Never found … then how do they know it was a hunting accident?”
“He used to go hunting with some friends. They’d camp and probably drink and do dumb shit.
This particular time, two of his friends came back.
Said he’d accidentally discharged his weapon while cleaning it, then taken a spill off the side of the trail they were on.
They tried to lead emergency services up to where they’d been, but the weather turned and, in the end, they never found him.
” He watched Sam carefully as he relayed this information.
He started to put it all together, because he was a detective. Because he knew who his father had been hunting with, and the two men who’d come down the mountain saying Dad had died up there.
And he knew who Sam hung around with these days.
“This is about the Harringtons.”
Sam blinked. But she didn’t betray anything else. Still, he knew. He knew.
Jake leaned forward. “Gerald Harrington. My dad. And Daryl Everly. They were on that hunting trip together when my dad, allegedly, accidentally shot himself and fell off a cliff. Twenty-five years ago is a long damn time. What are you looking into, Sam?”
*
Sam couldn’t chastise herself for not predicting this because … well, what? She was surprised she’d never heard anyone talk about a hunting accident involving Jake’s dad.
Then again, she’d been all of four when it had happened, and there were plenty of hunting accident stories to scare kids with around these parts.
She hadn’t expected him to connect the dots because she hadn’t known he’d have the dots to connect. So she had to hide her surprise, and the way this was all … weird.
“I’m a private investigator, Jake. I can’t tell you. But it’s nothing nefarious. Nothing about your dad’s hunting accident. I’m just trying to get a clear picture of a few guys. I suppose they did an investigation back then?”
“Sure. Never could find any reason to believe it was suspicious. Especially when Dad was such good friends with Gerald Harrington and … Daryl. Daryl Everly.” Jake leaned forward, fixed that hard detective gaze on her. “When are you talking to him?”
Sam wanted to groan, but she couldn’t let her frustration show. “Jake, I’m not telling you that.”
He leaned back, drumming his fingers against the table. “And if I can help?”
Tempting, but the more people knew what she was doing, the more chance it got back to Glenda. Sure, she liked to hermit up in that cabin well and good, but she wasn’t totally isolated with Jill bringing her into town sometimes to shop or go to medical appointments.
“Thanks for the offer,” Sam said, pushing to her feet. “But I’ve got it handled.” There would have been news stories about the accident, and as much as she’d like the police report, that might have to wait in order to keep Jake out of this.
Jake, who frowned at her, but didn’t push. Didn’t demand. He sat there, not making a move to leave.
Maybe she should let it go, keep her nose out of it. But she’d come here for two reasons. “Hey, do me one favor?”
Jake’s response was easy. “Sure.”
She leaned back down so they were closer to eye level than they were with her standing and him still sitting.
She made sure he met her gaze, and she made sure she was calm and clear. “Leave Nate alone.”
She saw a flicker of surprise and felt somewhat justified that she’d managed to catch him a little off guard by waiting until the end to bring it up.
“Tell him to stop speeding on icy roads,” Jake replied, his voice mostly devoid of any emotion or reaction.
But there was a hint of sharp ice, and he wasn’t quite meeting her gaze anymore. There were a lot of things she could say to that, but she took a page out of Nate’s book and only raised an eyebrow.
Jake was too much of a cop to wilt, but Sam thought she saw some kind of discomfort under that stoic mask of his. Even if he didn’t speak.
She tapped the table and stood back up to her full height. “I’ll let you know if I have any more questions about your dad, or if I think you can help. See you around, Jake.”
He didn’t say anything to that, and Sam left the diner. She had some more things to look into, but now there was a ticking clock, because she had no doubt Jake wouldn’t back off.
He’d be looking into it on his own now. Which meant she had to figure out whatever the hell she was trying to figure out before he did.
She doubted some random hunting accident had anything to do with Glenda, but…
Well, she’d just have to be sure.