Elusive Echoes (29 page)

A warm sensation rushed Mel and she smiled.
"Okay, Charlie."

As she watched the other woman back out of
the room, Mel felt like a deflated balloon. Charlie's domain really
was in the kitchen. As a cook, she ruled. Anything else, she was
out of her element. With a sigh, Mel looked over at the yellow
notepad she'd been using to draft a help-wanted ad. If only she and
Sandy had decided to hire new help last week. She blinked back
tears that were as much from exhaustion as they were from
frustration, but no amount of resolve seemed to still her quivering
chin.

It took two to work the bar except on the
slowest evenings. Without one person tending bar and another
waiting tables, the customers couldn't be served on busy nights.
Apparently, she was about to let her partner down the same way
she'd let so many other people in her life down.

"Hey, what's that look?" His voice one step
shy of harsh, Sean stood by the door with his arms folded across
his chest.

Mel had never seen this side of him when he
wasn't feeling ticked at her and she blinked in surprise. "Please,
Sean. I don't want to fight with you over this."

His attitude didn't change. "What do you
think I'm angry about, Mel?"

"I don't know, maybe because I can't open
short-handed tonight . . . I'm letting Sandy down."

"If you think I'm mad because an employee
called out on short notice, you'd be right." He shrugged and
stepped back into the room. "But if you think I'm mad at you
because of it . . . well, then you'd be wrong. You and Sandy always
spread yourselves thin here, but I figured it was something you had
to do—for economic reasons."

"It was at first. Now . . . not so much.
It's poor planning on my part."

"I'm not starting an
argument. And I'm not mad at you because you have an unreliable
employee. But, Sweetness, you look like you're about to throw in
the towel over being short-handed. What's up with
that
?" Sean's gaze raked
her top to bottom then came back up and settled on her eyes. "You
used to look at stuff like this as a challenge." His voice
softened. "I've never seen you back down from a
challenge."

"I'm just—I'm tired, Sean. I can't think. I
can't figure out how to make it work."

"I'll stay late," Ricky said from the
doorway. "I know I can't serve alcohol but if I stay late, I can
help with closing."

"No, Ricky." Mel cut him off with a slash of
her hand. "We'll figure something out that doesn't include you
driving home at two in the morning."

"He can come back to my house with me."
Charlie returned to the office on Ricky's tail.

Mel looked from Sean to Ricky to Charlie and
smiled at their obvious conspiracy to help her. Apparently
Valentine's was holding an impromptu strategy meeting.

"I live right here in town," said Charlie.
"If I have someone with me, it won't be so hard to go home in the
dark."

Mel shook her head, but Sean nodded and she
glared at him.

He shrugged. "I don't see a problem with
that. As long as Ricky calls Dad. That leaves waiting tables and
running the bar. Mel, if you can take the tables, I'll work the
bar."

She began to voice a protest, but Sean cut
her off again.

"The drinks are usually fairly
straightforward here. I can pull a draft and pour a shot."

Mel stared. It was a simple plan, and it
could work. "I'll have to do some quick training for the register
and show you where everything is."

Sean indicated the door. "No time like
now."

"Mel." It was Ricky, shifting from foot to
foot. "Lynn's sister needs a job. She wanted me to ask you last
week."

"Bertie Higgins?" Mel shuddered at the
thought of the preacher's daughter working at the bar. "I don't
know. She'd be what, twenty-two or twenty-three now?" Mel chewed
her lip. Then she shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Her
father's liable to kill her and maybe me too, if I hire her."

Sean shrugged. "Why not? She's a big girl.
She needs a job and you need an employee."

Mel opened her mouth, her argument all
ready, and then realized Sean made sense. "You know, she's a huge
flirt."

"So she'll take home some
good tips." Sean winked.
Winked
.

Mel felt a smile coming on, but she forced a
frown instead as she struggled to imagine the preacher's daughter
working at Valentine's, even on a temporary basis.

"We can kind of keep an eye on things, make
sure they don't get crazy. Let her know you expect her to work, not
go home with any customer for any reason." Sean shrugged again. "I
know she seems flighty, but she's really got a lot going on in her
head."

Mel huffed a breath and grimaced. "Okay,
Ricky, give her a call. We'll see how it goes tonight, maybe
tomorrow night, even if LeeAnn comes back."

****

It felt good to be working the floor again.
Mel enjoyed being behind the bar but that had always been Sandy's
place. The regulars at the bar all had favorite seats, some at the
bar itself, some at tables out on the floor. Working behind the
bar, Mel had missed some of her favorite customers.

Roberta Higgins actually managed to surprise
Mel. She was strikingly beautiful, at only twenty-two, with
waist-length honey brown hair and an hourglass figure that she knew
how to use to good effect on the male customers. She flirted just
enough to get some great tips, but she was on top of the orders,
delivered them quickly and never mixed any of them up. In fact, she
was better at the job before one night was out than LeeAnn had been
after two months of employment.

Mel loaded her tray with a round of beer for
a table of four just as Bertie arrived with a new order. She was
flushed and grinning, obviously happy with her work.

"Go ahead and take a break, Bertie," said
Mel. "We don't have a break room but there's a place in the kitchen
where you can eat. Order anything you want."

"Sure, just let me fill this one order."
Bertie loaded the tray with a beer mug and a couple of mixed
drinks. "Got a new arrival. Cute guy at the table by the door."

Mel smiled and allowed her eyes to follow
Bertie's gesture across the room. Her breath caught in her throat.
"I'll get that one. You go on your break before things pick up
again, okay?"

Mel delivered her round of drinks and
stopped back at the newcomer's table. "Hello, Denny. What do you
want?"

Her brother looked up with a smile that
didn't reach his dark eyes. "Mel. Friendly as ever."

She raised an eyebrow. "Just taking your
order, Denny."

He looked around. "You're busy tonight."

"Which is why I'm taking your order and then
walking away. I don't have time for chit chat."

"Right. I'll take a house draft. But tell me
one thing." The dim lighting made the glitter in his dark eyes a
reflection of pure evil.

"Have you had a chance to think about my
proposal?"

"The one where I pretend not to know you so
you can screw someone over?" Mel leaned over the table, forcing
herself to look into Denny's daunting eyes. "Not going to
happen."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself.
I should tell you, I know where your baby went, and she's okay . .
. for now. But she's just hitting that age where she'll be finding
herself on the wrong side of her adopted
Daddy's
interest. You know all about
what it means to have men look at you that way, don't you, Mellie?
Only this guy . . . he does a lot more than look."

Bile rose in Mel's throat. She had to
swallow twice to hold it in. Denny was messing with her. His use of
that name and his tone of voice were no accident. Nonetheless, Mel
couldn't suppress the shudder when she recalled the way those older
men had raked their lewd glances over her tender body. They'd
intended to do so much more than look, too. Nick had called her by
the apparently affectionate and innocent-sounding nickname when
he'd "caught" those older men attempting to cop a feel. What name
had her little girl been given? Did she even have one? Would
someone swoop in at the last minute to save her over and over?

Mel backed up a little. No.
Denny
was
messing
with her. He had to be. Somehow she managed to still her shaking.
With supreme effort that she could only pray Denny didn't
recognize, she injected a distinct chill into her next words,
though she wanted to throw herself at her brother and beat the
truth out of him. "What are you doing here, Denny?"

"Just making a deal." He stretched, leaned
back in his seat like a jungle cat about to pounce. "I'm almost
done here. No one'll get hurt if you don't say anything about who I
am. Keep that to yourself so I can finish this job and I'll give
you all the information I have on your little girl."

He's lying, he's lying,
he's lying.
Her mind screamed; her heart
was going to explode. For her daughter's sake, she forced a calm
demeanor, lifting a shoulder and affecting unconcern. "Tell me what
you're running and I'll consider it."

"Like I said, just a shell game. Of
sorts."

Her stomach threatened her again. She raised
an eyebrow. "That's it? There's no money in the Monty."

He smiled without showing his teeth. "That
depends on what you're using for a pea."

"What exactly
are
you using,
Denny?"

He only shook his head. His face remained a
mask. "The less you know, the better. Just trust me, keep your
mouth shut and no one'll get hurt."

"And if I don't? If I walk over to the phone
and call the sheriff on your sorry butt?"

"So far no one's been hurt." Denny's smirk
bared the tips of his teeth, deadly white fangs of the wild animal
she knew him to be. "That's subject to change the second you bring
anyone else into this. A damaged car is a minor inconvenience
compared to what I can do to you and your new—family."

A chill rode in on the back of Denny's laugh
and settled itself in Mel's heart. Her lungs struggled for oxygen
and she trembled with fear. He noticed. She saw it in his eyes. But
his next words confirmed it. "If you don't believe me, open your
mouth. That sure is one pretty little girl your partner just gave
birth to. Sure would be a shame for her to be hurt, or . . . stolen
away."

Sudden fury replaced her fear, and rage
exploded into flame, fueled by the memories of all the hurt she'd
suffered with Nick and Denny. Her impotence to help herself and her
inability to keep her daughter safe simmered in her core. If her
brother could be believed, the child had been sold into a bad
situation. Loathing for Nick DeVayne sent a haze of red through her
mind. Mel forced a smile. Hatred would only threaten her ability to
finish the con.

Denny had every reason to lie and no reason
to tell her the truth about her baby's circumstances. But could she
take that chance? And could she take a chance that he wouldn't
somehow get his hands on Bethany? That had been a pretty specific
threat.

With Denny's nonchalant mention of damaged
cars, all sense of liberation from her old life was dashed on the
rocks of his not-so-veiled threat toward the people she loved. Even
as Mel glared at her brother, she knew the truth. Denny's words
were no idle warning. Either she played his game or people would be
hurt. Perhaps starting with her unknown daughter, but certainly not
ending there.

Had she really thought he was inept and
awkward at this game? She'd managed to trap herself.

Mel flashed to the vision of her mangled
car, of the way it had skidded off the road. She thought of Ricky's
truck, how that could have been him losing his brakes and skidding,
like her dad had, into a cliff. Her stomach turned. What if Todd
Mitchell's accident hadn't been an accident after all? Or her
mother's?

He knew he had her. A grin of triumph showed
off his perfect white teeth before she'd made a conscious decision.
"I've changed my mind. Don't think I'll have a drink after all." He
stood and laid a fifty-dollar bill on the table. "For your
time."

Mel stood frozen as he walked out, staring
at the fifty on the table. If Denny was throwing money around, he
either had lots of cash or thought he was about to score a bundle.
Given how invested he was in her silence, her bet was on the
latter.

"What was Northrop saying to you?" asked
Sean, when she stopped by the bar to fill another order.

Mel shook her head, numbed by the encounter
with Denny. She scanned the room, trying to figure out who Sean was
talking about. Sean spoke again, but she barely heard him, didn't
really register what he'd said. Fear filled her to overflowing. She
had to tell him about Denny. Now. Mel drew a deep breath.

Sean set a mug of draft on her tray. "I'd
love to pound the crap out of him."

Mel blinked in surprise. Had he known what
she was going to say? "He's not worth it."

Sean shrugged. "I don't know. It might screw
up my contract, but giving him something to go home with other than
Dev might be satisfying enough."

Mel stared. "You lost me. Who are we talking
about?"

Sean shook his head and chuckled. "Earth to
Mel?" He placed another mug on her tray. "Dallas Northrop. The man
you were having the conversation with."

Oh, no.
Bile churned in her stomach and Mel pressed the tips of her
fingers to her lips. Things fell into place. His latest job
involved Sean and his family. And he was already close to them. Her
heart settled somewhere in her throat as she tried to articulate.
Breathing came in tortured gasps.

"Sean, I—" She blinked, shook her head.
Something was wrong.