“I have some pain meds if you need them for your foot,” she offered.
“I’m fine.”
The bracket of lines on either side of his mouth belied that statement. The man was in major discomfort. But if he wanted to macho it out, let him.
April watched as Eliza and Betsy worked together in harmony—as if they’d been doing it for years instead of a few short weeks.
She’d have to call some of her old friends in the morning, see if any were still in town. None of them had been as close as Eliza and Jo, however.
By the time Betsy’s husband, Dex, arrived, the preparations were well underway and the group had moved to the patio. At this time of year, the mosquitoes weren’t as bad as later in the summer. Jack leaned heavily on his cane as the men stood around the grill and the women set the table.
“Reminds me of my folks,” Betsy said, glancing at the grill. “As long as I can remember, whenever Mom and Dad had friends over, the men all stood together talking about fishing or bowling or something, and the women got together to talk about children.”
April looked at Eliza. Their childhood had been very different from Betsy’s.
“Reminds me of junior high school dances, boys on one side, girls on another,” April said.
Betsy laughed. “That, too. But they’ll join us when it’s time to eat. I can’t believe Jack Palmer is recuperating here in Maraville. You’d think he’d be in Manhattan or somewhere more exotic than this town.”
“Avril is recuperating here,” Eliza said dramatically, referring to April’s professional name, making Betsy and April laugh.
True to Betsy’s prediction, once the meal was ready, the men joined the women at the table. Cade sat next to Eliza, Dex next to Betsy. April was grateful Sam and Jack sat at the opposite end of the table from her. If she grew too tired, she’d slip away to her room. But to her surprise, she enjoyed the lively conversation, which focused on all the changes in Maraville over the past ten years.
At one point Cade leaned over to address Jack. “Sorry I missed your talk today, Sam said it went well.”
“Good enough.” He flicked a glance at April. “Or would you disagree?” he challenged.
“The talk was excellent. You brought the entire situation in Iraq alive for all of us.” There was no denying he was an inspiring speaker. It was his personality that could use some improvement, April thought.
“I admit I was surprised to see the mix in the audience,” Jack said. He looked at Cade. “The crowd ranged from old-timers to teenagers. They probably cut classes to attend.”
“Probably worth it,” Cade said. “What did I miss?”
“Tell us the highlights,” Betsy urged. “We couldn’t be there, either.”
Jack hesitated a minute, then nodded and began to repeat some of the things April had heard earlier.
A wave of fatigue hit and she whispered to Eliza, “I’m going inside. Stay and listen—he tells a powerful story.”
Eliza nodded, her attention on Jack.
April picked up her dish and utensils and headed for the house. She wanted to get to bed before she collapsed. Ten minutes later she was under the covers, lights out. She could hear the soft murmur of voices from the backyard. It had been an interesting dinner, unlike the ones she’d shared with friends in Paris in recent years. No loud music, no fancy clothes, just friends sitting down to eat together. It had been nice.
“YOU OKAY?” Sam asked Jack as they drove away from the house on Poppin Hill.
“Tired, that’s all.”
“Leg okay?”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t, but that wasn’t Sam’s fault. He’d done too much. Dammit, how much longer before he was back in shape?
“Thanks for giving your talk again. I know Dex and Cade appreciated it. Betsy asked some intelligent questions, I thought.”
“Yeah.” April had left as soon as he started. Was that because she had already heard it?
“What’s the story with April?” he asked.
“She and Eliza grew up together. The detective Maddie hired to find the girls located her some months ago. When Eliza contacted her, she came home. She’s a model in Paris. Ever hear of her? Avril is her French name.”
Figured. With her looks, modeling was right up her alley.
“I don’t associate with models,” Jack said.
“Far as I can tell, old son, you don’t associate much with anyone,” Sam said easily.
“Never in one place long enough.”
Sam turned into his driveway, his headlights briefly illuminating the house. Jack could count the minutes now until he’d be prone, and could take the medication that would ease the pain in his foot. Today had proved how far he was from being ready to return to work.
When they got into the house, Jack looked at Sam. “Thanks for including me. You have good friends.”
“Settle down someplace and you’ll make your own. What are you going to do tomorrow?”
Nothing, was the first thing to come to mind. But he wasn’t going to get better by letting his muscles atrophy. “Take a walk, check in with the news bureau. You don’t have to entertain me, remember?”
“I remember. Stop by the office and I’ll show you what I’ve done so far searching for Jo. You might be interested and catch something I’ve missed.”
“What is this? Do I look like a damn missing persons bureau?”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, where did that come from?”
“April asked me earlier if I’d help her find her parents.”
“Maybe with your background, we’re hoping you’ll have suggestions for digging out the facts we want. You have more time to devote to the search. As far as I know, Jo hasn’t done anything wrong. Hard to justify spending taxpayers’ money on an extensive search.” Sam looked at Jack with curiosity. “What did you tell April?”
“No, of course.”
“And my request gets a negative, too?”
“I’ll stop by. But if modern police science can’t find a person, I doubt I can.”
Jack headed on to bed, glad to get off his foot. He lay in the darkness, though, unable to sleep. The ache was only part of the problem. His wakefulness had to do with his future. Or perhaps lack of future. If his foot didn’t heal properly, he’d never go on assignment again.
What would he do then?
Maybe he should give some thought to working on locating this Jo Hunter. It would give him something to fill the time until he was in fighting shape again. And keep him from dwelling on what the future might hold.
THE NEXT MORNING April walked into town to go to the sheriff’s office. She wanted to ask Sam if he could help in her search for her parents.
To her surprise, Jack Palmer was ahead of her, ready to enter the building as she approached. She hesitated, but he turned and saw her and held the door for her to enter.
She walked past him into the dimness of the old building. The tall ceilings held lazily rotating fans. The walls needed to be repainted and the wooden desks were gouged and scarred. Artificial lights cast a yellowish gloom over everything, and the few windows were covered with closed venetian blinds.
“Here to see Sam?” Jack asked April, following her to the counter where an officer sat.
“Yes.” Not