Broken Road Café 1 - The Broken Road Café (5 page)

That should shut him up. Officer—no,
Chief
—Nick looked at him, then at Patsy, and the two of them burst out laughing. “Hooterville? Barney Fife? Slick, I think your thong is twisted too tight. I followed you for two miles right behind your lead-footed ass before I flipped the siren on, so take your profiling defense and…well, tell Judge Oliver about it. My uncle, Judge Wallace Oliver.” He sat back and folded his arms across his chest, looking smug.
Turning his attention to Patsy, Dan determined to ignore the infuriating man. He smiled. “Are the elections rigged here, like in Chicago? Do you take names off cemetery gravestones and add them to the polling precincts? Because I really can’t see how you decide local elections if this is the quality of law enforcement you get. The mayor must be a doozy.”
She stuck out her hand. “Say hello to Her Honor, Mayor Patsy Verline.”
Oh God. I must be lost in a fucking nightmare
. He was still asleep and Abe was curled up behind him and this whole week was just a Mexican food-induced nightmare. Dan dropped his head to his hands, covering his face and shaking it. He really was in hell.
Right about that time, Jake came over with a big tray. He began setting iced tea and huge plates of food on the table. It smelled so good, and Dan’s stomach began to growl at the aroma of chicken and vegetables and fresh baked bread. It almost made him forget the company at the table. But he would be a gentleman and ignore that. At least until the meal was over.
Dan grabbed his fork and was about to dig in when Chief Oliver reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. Looking up, ready to take a bite out of the man, Dan was surprised at the serious expression on his face. “Would you mind waiting a minute while I say grace?”
Aggravating, tall, hung, smart ass,
and
a Godfearing Christian boy? Dan wasn’t sure what he should do—run like hell or steal his gun and shoot him. The confusion must have shown in his eyes, because the chief offered him a shy smile, something that he hadn’t expected, and said, “Sorry. Mama grew up without dinner a lot of times, so she had us give thanks for every meal.” He paused. “You don’t have to join in. It’s just…never mind.”
That stung a little. Dan reached across the table, grabbed his hand, and threaded fingers with Patsy’s. He saw approval in her eyes, surprise in the chief’s, and mumbled, “My mom always did too. Before she died.” Nick’s gaze met Dan’s, and he squeezed Dan’s hand slightly before lowering his head and saying a quick prayer.
Things settled down after that, and the three dug into their meals. Dan couldn’t believe how good the food was. Like everyone else, he associated chicken pot pie with a frozen, boxed, high sodium death trap. But this,
this
was heaven. Flakey crust, vegetables perfectly al dente, and chicken moist and flavorful. And on the side were perfectly baked yeast rolls, and as promised, real butter.
He sure as hell hoped if he bought this place, he could persuade the chef to come to work for him.
That stopped Dan in his tracks. He was really thinking about this. Actually buying the place and settling down into a small town life with people like Patsy and Chief Nick. He couldn’t think of the man as just plain Nick; he’d given him a speeding ticket, for God’s sake. And was arrogant and snide, and pushed all his damn buttons.
“Hon? Everything okay?” Dan looked up and realized Patsy was asking him the question that Jake must have posed to them, and he’d spaced out before he knew the cute little waiter was there and had been talking. If Judge MacElroy or Vine ever caught him looking off into space like that, or Carter or one of the other senior partners, they’d have him by the short curly ones and try to make him wish his balls had snatched his junk and run up inside his asshole to hide.
As if.
Clearing his throat, Dan smiled at Patsy and turned to Jake. “It’s wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever had better pot pie.” Jake’s smile was sweet and knowing and proud. “Hey, Jake, do you think you and I can talk after your shift? I’d like to ask you about some things here at the restaurant, and maybe pick your brain about…living in a small town like this.” Dan stopped short of adding
living as a gay man
to the question, but from Jake’s raised eyebrow he knew he guessed what he meant.
“I’d be happy to. I’m off around two, but with prep it’ll be around two thirty or so. Maybe we can take a drive in that car of yours and I can show you a couple of the more interesting sights around town?” From Jake’s sly grin, he knew he’d probably get an eyeful of more than the local sights, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. He didn’t want to out himself to the chief—he figured Patsy already knew from her not-so-gentle teasing—or put Jake in an awkward situation with either of them also.
“That would be—“
“I think maybe you boys should stay here and talk.” Chief Nick broke in. Dan’s jaw dropped, and he was surprised at the man’s expression. The frown and growly edge to his words sounded…possessive.
“Well, Chief, I think I can be trusted to keep it under control. Maybe I’ll let Jake here drive, and you won’t have to worry about my lead foot.” Dan poked at him, wondering what the hell he was worried about.
“I think I could answer your questions better than Jake. He’s a little…young for you to be getting much, uh,
advice
from, don’t you think there, Slick?”
What in the fuck?
It sounded almost like he was being cockblocked. Without even having his cock out to block.
“That’s okay, Chief. I’m meeting with the owners, then I’d like to talk to one of the employees about his experience working here. Remember, the good mayor already told you”—Dan flashed a charming smile to Patsy to take the sting out of his words—“I’m considering buying the diner. So, unless I’m breaking one of those quaint town laws, like the one in Kennesaw where everyone has to own a gun, I think I’ll take a pass on your…kind…invitation.”
Dan gave the chief one of his courtroom glares and hoped he got the message. There was enough on his plate without worrying about getting into a pissing contest with the local authorities, but there was no way in hell he was going to be bullied. The asshole probably already looked at his car and his speeding—which Dan was going to protest in court, uncle or not—and made a decision to run him off. Well, nobody put Dan O’Leary in a corner.
Nick made as if to open his mouth to protest, but jerked suddenly, shot Patsy a sour look and shrugged. He picked up his fork and went back to his lunch, but the tension never left his shoulders. That was good enough for Dan. “Perfect. Two-thirty then, Jake. Looking forward to it. Now, you asked if I needed anything? How about a little more tea, and maybe a couple more of these rolls? I’ll have to hit the gym a little hard tomorrow, but darned if it won’t be worth it.” He gave Jake a wink, which was returned with a smile.
Patsy just motioned for a little more tea herself, and the chief ignored them. Jake turned and headed back toward the kitchen, leaving Dan to study his companions at the table. Patsy went back to eating, flashing a wicked little
I know something you don’t know

grin at Dan, which he accepted with a tight smile of his own. He could almost see the anger, or whatever it was, boiling Chief Nick’s ass. Too fucking bad. One thing was for sure—he
would
be questioning Jake and getting the chief’s story. If he was going to live up here, even if there was a chance in hell of it, he wasn’t going in blind.

Now, Dan just needed to talk to the owners, get the grand tour, ignore Chief of Police Asshat for the rest of the lunch, and charm Patsy so that when—
if!
— the negotiations started for purchasing the Blue Moon, she didn’t bend him over the table and make him scream for his momma.

*

Bill and Adele Grainger turned out to be, as Dan’s mother would have called them, “lovely” people. After the lunch rush settled down, Bill appeared from the back of the kitchen and hugged Patsy, at which point his wife came in wagging her finger and accusing him of awful things and wondering if the pair of them were going to run away to Acapulco. They all had a good laugh, Dan included, and the tour began.

Dan was relieved to see that the place was in good shape. Not that he knew all that much about deep fryers and commercial ovens, grill tops and walk-in freezers, but that was what inspectors and due diligence were for. The diner/restaurant/café sat on the corner of the main street through the town, and while there were a few of the generic fast food places and even a more upscale steak house for the tourists, the place looked like a favorite for locals and traffic passing through the small downtown area. Tourism was the primary driving force behind the local economy, with hundreds of cabins dotting the local mountainsides. And really, there were only so many times a body wanted to grill out or cook a meal while renting. It was get out, or go batshit crazy holed up alone.

The preliminary look he had at the books surprised Dan too. The business was heavily in the black with a surplus for emergencies. He’d questioned Adele about it. “Sweetie, we put a lot of our own blood, sweat, and tears into the place. We hire good people, pay them a fair wage, and buy quality supplies and local fruits and vegetables when we can get them. The place almost runs itself. We cook and serve food. It’s not rocket science, and,” she leaned in and whispered, “being owners, we can make up our own salaries. We work a lot of shifts because these people are our friends and we love to see them every day. So we don’t have to hire many wait staff.

“Don’t get greedy, serve a good meal, and be good neighbors. That’s our motto, and we stick to it. Plus”—she looked deadly serious—“this place is gossip central and we know where all the bodies are buried.”

Dan wasn’t sure how to take that, but he figured in a small town like this, there had to be a clearinghouse where all the wags met, and this place had what every realtor ever told him was important— location, location, location. But he
did
wonder about that bodies comment. When they were done with their talk, he waited

for Jake to finish his clean-up and then the two of them drove around the area. Jake showed him where he lived, pointed out the good areas to live and where to avoid, and generally kept up an entertaining stream of commentary until they reached the outskirts of town. Dan had let him drive, and he kept his focus on the road, but when they reached a small open spot on the side of the highway, he pulled over and parked. Turning to Dan, he asked, “How about we sit at one of the picnic tables and have a quick chat? I brought a couple of bottled waters in my backpack, and you can ask me what you want to really know.”

Shrugging, Dan followed Jake and they sat at a table. He looked around, and had to sigh at the beauty of the area. The foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains were some of the most visually stunning in the country, and even though he was off a main strip of highway, he felt like he and Jake were the only people in the world at the moment. The air was crisp, the sun high in the sky, the temperature moderate. Dan could hear birds in the trees not far from the tables, and he felt the tension draining from his body.
Damn, this place was inviting
.

Jake started unpacking his bag, and Dan saw him produce two water bottles and a napkin wrapped around something. When Jake put a small paper plate in front of each of them and unwrapped what could only be homemade chocolate chip cookies, Dan almost moaned at how good they looked. He glanced up, and at Jake’s grin, grabbed one and bit down. The sweetness exploded in his mouth, and the subtle undertones of vanilla and cocoa and…something blended so well with the chocolate chips. Dan knew he had to keep the cook.

When he’d gone to the back, the guy—Jasper— was already gone. He worked the breakfast and lunch crowd, then made way for the afternoon and dinner chef. Cook. Whatever. Bill told Dan he’d let the guy know Dan would be there, but hinted the man was difficult. The word he actually used was
special,
but Dan had grown up in the South. He knew what the man meant. Jasper Ford was either a real asshole, or had something going on with him. Either way, he was determined if he went through with this purchase, Jasper would be his employee.

He looked down, and his plate was empty. Looking over at the napkin, Dan spied a couple of more, and catching Jake’s gaze and small nod, he grabbed them and gobbled them down. He’d have sold his car for a glass of ice cold milk, but settled for a long draught of the water.

Sated now, he sighed. Jake leaned forward, his head on his hand and grinned. “Ready to talk now? If I’d have known you were still that hungry, I’d have packed some cheese and crackers or something.”

Dan felt a warm flush run up his neck and face. “I…well, darn it, Jake, those things are addictive. Did Jasper make them?” At Jake’s nod, he asked, “So what’s the deal with him? Bill let him know I was looking at the place today and wanted to meet staff, and he bailed out. He’s difficult, but what kind of difficult exactly?”

Drawing in a big sigh, Jake closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, there was a sadness there that made Dan want to reach over and take Jake’s hand in comfort. Before he could act, Jake spoke. “About a year ago, Jasper’s wife died in a car wreck. They had two kids, Will and Laura. Now, Natalie, his wife, was running errands and the kids were supposed to be with her. When the EMTs got to the wreck, they found Natalie, and she was unconscious and almost dead. But the kids weren’t in the car. And she died before she could tell anyone where they were. The chief and police worked their asses off, but couldn’t find them. And it makes him…hard to work with sometimes.”

Dan nodded. He could understand the grief. The crazy-making. He wondered how he’d never heard about something like this though. An Amber Alert, something. A year? How was the man even functioning? All these thoughts swirled around in his head, and Dan had a small insight into his own situation. How easy it was to ignore the big problems by focusing on the small ones. Granted, a cheating lover and lying back-stabbing best friend weren’t on par with a dead wife and two lost children, but the situations—harsh as they may be—were enough to make a man derail a little.

Other books

Departures by Harry Turtledove
Coffin Road by Peter May
Broken Like Glass by E.J. McCay
Time Travelers Strictly Cash by Spider Robinson
Dead, but Not for Long by Kinney, Matthew, Anders, Lesa
Voices from the Other World by Naguib Mahfouz
Getting Garbo by Jerry Ludwig