in his head didn’t mesh with the cool, cranky woman beside him.
She turned suddenly to look at a pedestrian on her side of the car, then faced front again. “I think we should go to the sheriff and file a missing person’s report.”
“It’s my understanding that we have to wait at least twenty-four hours before he’s officially considered missing.” He glanced over at her. “Where does he like to go?”
“For fun?”
“My grandfather doesn’t do fun. At least he didn’t used to. I meant is there a favorite restaurant we can check? A hangout?”
The corners of her full mouth curved up. “I can’t picture Mr. Caine hanging out. But his top three favorite places are Tiny’s BBQ, Dairy Queen and The Fast Lane—it’s a coffee shop in the bowling alley.”
They were just passing the bowling alley, and he made a hard right turn into the driveway. “Let’s take a look.”
When the BMW was parked, she got out and gave the lot the once-over. “I don’t see his car.”
“Maybe someone inside has seen him.”
As they walked side by side to the double glass doors, she glanced at him curiously. He could almost hear the questions echoing in her head. It was just a matter of time until she started asking them.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
And there was the first one. “Define this.”
“Don’t play dumb, Max. We both know you’re not. And before you ask, that wasn’t a compliment. Just a statement of fact. Why are you bothering to look for your grandfather?”
“I came here to see him because I owe him that much. As soon as we find him, I can leave. It’s that simple.”
Before she could make something out of that, they stopped at the bowling alley registration desk.
Ashley put her hands on the counter. “Hi, Sam.”
“Ashley.” The fit and forty-something dark-haired man standing there, studied him, openly curious.
“Sam Fisher this is Max Caine,” she said.
“Sam,” he said, shaking hands. “I’m looking for my grandfather, Bentley Caine. Ashley tells me he likes to come in here.”
Sam’s face flickered with recognition, but unlike Bernice, he managed to hold back the ingrate remarks. “I know who he is. My wife works over at the chocolate factory.”
“I see. Have you seen him in the last twenty-four hours?”
Sam looked surprised. “Isn’t he in the hospital? I heard he had a heart attack.”
Ashley tucked a strand of copper-colored hair behind her ear. “Mr. Caine walked out of the hospital sometime last night and no one has seen him. We’re checking out the places he might have gone.”
“Sorry. He hasn’t been here since I came in this morning. But I’ll ask around.” The other man shrugged. “If he comes in, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay,” she said.
They started to back away when Sam added, “He’s a good guy. Always says we have the best fried chicken he’s ever tasted.”
Max looked at him. “And afterward, he can bowl a couple of games to counteract the blast of cholesterol.”
“Thanks, Sam.” Ashley took Max’s arm and aimed him toward the door. “Way to get the sympathy vote, Ace. You could have gone all day without telling Sam Fisher his chicken is a heart attack waiting to happen.”
“Even though I said it with a great deal of charm?” he asked.
“Here’s a suggestion. When we check out the Dairy Queen and Tiny’s BBQ, either we just cruise the parking lot or I go in alone. If you tell them they’re a hotbed of heart disease, you’re not likely to enlist their help in this endeavor.”
“Whatever you say.”
When they were back in the car driving through downtown Sweet Spring Ashley sighed like a balloon losing air.
“Spit it out before you implode,” he said.
She didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “You know, diet isn’t the only contributing factor in a heart attack.”
“Lack of exercise, maybe?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the strain of running Caine Chocolate all by himself.”
“He’s not alone. He’s got you.”
“True. I’m part of the administrative staff in place to manage the company. But I think you know that’s not what I meant.”
“How long have you worked there?” he asked.
“Since I was sixteen. It was my first job.”
He glanced over at her. “So you worked your way through the ranks.”
“Yes. And I try to take some of the stress off him. But I’m not family.”
“I feel a zinger coming on.”
“Another source of tension and pressure could be the desertion of a family member and his subsequent refusal to return home.”
That was damned irritating. Her version of events was so slanted he couldn’t help wondering if she was merely being a devoted employee paid to recite the company line. Or if she believed what she was saying. Because there was another side to the story. His side.
“How much do you know about me?” he asked, tamping down his anger. He didn’t remember whether or not they’d talked about his background ten years ago.
“I know your parents were killed in an automobile accident and your grandfather took you in when you were fifteen. You were angry and rebellious and got into trouble with the sheriff a couple times during high school. Big trouble that made the newspapers. Very public stuff—”
“I’m sorry I asked.” He turned left into the Dairy Queen driveway. There were only a couple of cars in the lot. “Anything?”
“I don’t see his car. I’ll run inside and ask if anyone has seen him.”
Max watched her walk up to the door, then disappear inside. He didn’t remember her being so skeptical, cynical and suspicious. She also hadn’t been so sassy, scrappy and sexy. But that was beside the point. Where did she get off judging him? Whatever happened to walking a mile in a man’s wingtips before forming an opinion? Living with Bentley Caine hadn’t been a bed of roses. Did she know what the old man had done to him? What had convinced Max he’d be better off anywhere but Sweet Spring?
Ashley was back moments later. After sliding into the car she said, “He hasn’t been here, but they’ll let me know if he comes in.”
He
