Chapter Fifteen #2
I slid into the bench across from him, aware of a freshly photocopied poster tacked above the low wall sconce.
CONCERNED WILFREDIANS FOR A BETTER LIbrARY, the poster read.
It invited people to attend a talk the next night at the retreat center to “address vital issues concerning our community library.”
I cursed silently. Wanda was behind this. I was sure. I put a hand to my temple and rubbed it. Tyrone noticed my reaction.
“You don’t know about this?” he asked, nodding at the poster.
“No. I….” I didn’t want to get into it. Wanda had something up her sleeve, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it. “I’ll deal with that later. I came to find you tonight because—”
“You hunted me down?”
I ignored his playful grin. “I have an odd question for you.”
He rolled up the plans and tucked them beside him on the bench. “Odd as it might be, I’ll entertain any question coming from you.”
He was flirting. Again, he didn’t tempt me, but again I appreciated the attention. “Not that.”
“Then you want to know when the Empress Brewpub will be finished.” He lifted his pint glass and returned it to the table. “Beer here isn’t bad but could be improved. Not to mention the atmosphere. I don’t want to sound like a snob,” Tyrone added quickly, “but this town could use variety.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his canny summary of Wilfred’s entertainment options. “I won’t argue with that. But, no, that wasn’t my question.”
Tyrone raised an eyebrow. A smile spread across his lips. “Gotcha. Let me buy you a drink.”
“It’s about your crew,” I said. “Nothing else.”
“Sure.” He didn’t believe me. He leaned back, his smile widening. “Ask away.”
“Are any of them from Baltimore?”
His smile morphed to a frown. “What? Why do you ask?”
Just then, one of the Tohler girls—they seemed to rotate through the café as servers; when one went to college, another one stepped in, and they looked uncannily similar—slid a bowl and a napkin-wrapped bundle of silverware in front of me. “Mac and cheese.”
“Thanks, Tanya,” I said. Or was it Tallulah? “What’s going on with these posters?”
“Darla okayed them. The new custodian at the retreat center asked her to put them up.”
It was Wanda, all right. I returned my attention to Tyrone.
“I wanted to talk to you about someone in Wilfred who’s from Baltimore.
He disappeared about the same time the construction crew arrived.
His girlfriend is worried about him. We thought maybe he saw someone he knew, someone with the construction crew, and took off. ”
“Someone he had a beef with.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Why else would he leave?”
“People split town for lots of reasons. Could have owed money. Had a family emergency. Maybe he wasn’t so happy with his girlfriend.” His seductive smile returned. “Although if she’s anything like you, that would be hard to believe.”
I looked at my hands to hide my almost-certain blush. “I didn’t see any sign of any of that.”
“You wouldn’t. That’s the point.” He gestured to my macaroni and cheese. “Don’t wait on my accord. You’d better eat that before it gets cold.” I picked up a fork, and he continued. “As it happens, I’m from Baltimore.”
I put down my fork again. “You?”
He nodded. “I haven’t seen anyone here I know from back home.” He leaned forward. “Only a few I’d like to know better.”
Baltimore. All the way here on the West Coast. What were the odds? “Did you know anyone named Ian Penclosa?”
He looked genuinely baffled. “Penclosa. I can honestly say no. You weren’t, um, close to him, too, were you?”
“Friend of a friend.” I couldn’t help flirting back. This man was a snake charmer, only with women and not cobras. “Are all the men in Baltimore players like you?”
He laughed. “Maybe your missing friend is. Seri ously, though, what does he look like?”
“Dark hair, a scar on his face. The first thing you might notice is he’s in a wheelchair.”
Tyrone might have looked startled for a moment, but I also might have been mistaken. Or maybe my description wasn’t what he’d expected. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
I turned my attention to the food in front of me. Maybe I’d come up dry on information about Ian, but I’d scored a hit with dinner. Darla’s mac and cheese was loaded with homemade andouille and just enough bell pepper to give it interest.
“I think I’ll order one of those.” He raised his hand, and Orson ambled over.
When Orson returned a few minutes later with Ty rone’s dinner, Wanda stood behind him.
She nodded toward the poster. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to talk to you about it first, but when Ruth told me the trustees’ meeting was coming up, I didn’t have enough time.
Now that you know, I’d like to formally invite you to attend. ”
I forced a smile. “I’m glad to see you have so much interest in the library. Can you tell me what the meeting is about?”
“I have concerns.” Whatever those concerns were, Wanda felt confident they’d override any of my objections. I saw it in her smug expression.
“Does it have to do with Rodney?” No one else complained about him running free in the library. If anything, he was a draw. The thought of having to keep him cooped up in my apartment broke my heart and would certainly break his.
“In a way, yes,” she replied. “Can I count on you coming?”
I didn’t have much choice—not if it involved the library. “Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Good. Good evening.” With a flamenco-adjacent sashay in her walk, she left the tavern.
Tyrone jerked a thumb toward the door, still swinging, to the café. “You have trouble with her?”
I toyed with my dinner. “I’m not sure yet. She’s stirring things up, and I’m wary.”
“She works for you?”
“She’s a volunteer. At least, she was until this afternoon. We mutually agreed she wasn’t a good fit,” I said.
He nodded knowingly. “Got it. You did well to nip this in the bud. Give someone like her a few inches, and she’ll make a grab for it. I’ve had a lot of experience with this sort of thing.”
“Thank you. I’d thought that by talking to her about how she interacted with patrons that I’d settled the matter. Instead, I’d instigated a town meeting.”
“The library is your world, remember. She’s just a visitor.”
The rest of the evening passed quickly. Tyrone was charming dinner company, and it felt good to have a man’s attention to distract me from my failed relationship with Sam.
We picked right up from our earlier conversation.
He asked more about Ian and about life in Wilfred, and I found myself opening up to him.
In turn, I asked him about the challenges of running a construction job, and he regaled me with stories of absent plumbers, “creative” architects, and mouthy drywallers.
He said he was almost certain most of his crew was local, but he’d give me a list of subcontractors to see if I could track any of them back to Baltimore.
All this time, I remembered his employee’s warning about him. “I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but earlier this week I heard you arguing with someone in your crew.”
Tyrone pushed his empty bowl to the side. “Cliff.” He shook his head. “I . . . it’s . . . we go way back. This is the last job I’ll work with him. I can’t take his behavior any longer.” He looked me straight in my eyes. “Take my advice and stay away from him.”
“Funny,” I said, my pulse leaping a notch. “That’s what he told me about you.”
Tyrone’s expression froze, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. For a moment, I wondered if he was angry. Then he laughed. “He would say that. It might be that I’ve been successful with the ladies a few times when he’s struck out.”
When we left the tavern, Tyrone opening the door for me, night had fallen. The door closed, shutting off the bar’s country-western music and chatter. Tyrone tucked a hand in the small of my back.
I turned to him to tell him, “Hands off, buddy,” and heard “Hello, Josie” from the parking lot.
There was no mistaking that voice. It was Sam, showing a faint glimmer of a smile. In other words, he wasn’t happy. Despite this, angels might have been sing ing at my elation at seeing him.
I didn’t have time to reply before he disappeared into the café.