one hand flat on the table and holding up the other. “I want to make sure it’s all right. After all, we can’t have one of our best customers, not to mention our only non-beer-drinking customer, burning his mouth.”
“It’s okay,” he answered. “I’m good.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He couldn’t keep from chuckling. Having a conversation with Libby was always a game. “Hassling the injured guy, are you?”
“Get ‘em while they’re down, I always say.” She walked away with an exaggerated swing to her hips.
Within minutes, she returned with his sandwich. “On the house,” she told him.
“There’s no need for that,” he assured her, pulling the plate closer. “I’m not going to sue.”
He’d expected a smart answer from her, but instead she said nothing. She looked tired, he thought, noticing the dark circles beneath her eyes, but she always had a smile for everyone.
She leaned forward to wipe a few water rings from the table with the corner of the dishtowel tucked into the waistband of her jeans. “Why hasn’t such a nice guy like you settled down with an equally good woman?”
He considered giving her a flippant answer, but instead he decided she deserved honesty. “I practiced family law back in Chicago for several years. You know, divorce and child custody and all that. I thought I could make a difference. Came to find out, I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep those kids from being pawns of their parents. Divorce is always messy, even when everybody starts out agreeing, but when kids are involved … Well, I guess you could say the whole experience jaded me.”
“I can understand how that could happen,” she answered, without looking directly at him.
“What about you?” he asked. “You’re divorced, right?”
She nodded as she continued to wipe at a spot on the table, but she didn’t say anything.
“What about Noah’s dad?” he continued, curious. When she straightened, a frown marring her usually sunny expression, he knew he’d stepped over the bounds. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s all right. I started it,” she admitted with a small smile. “Noah’s dad isn’t in the picture.”
He nodded, accepting her brief answer. Before he could say anything else, his cell phone rang. Pulling it from the pocket inside his jacket, he answered. “Garrett here.”
“Garrett, were you expecting a delivery?”
He recognized the voice of Tootie Fredericks, the city administrator. “No. Why?”
“You need to get back to the office, right now.”
She sounded upset, and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. “What is it, Tootie?”
“A package came for you.”
“A package? Can’t it wait?”
“No, it can’t, and you need to get your butt here right now.”
He was accustomed to her eccentricities, chalking them up to her thirty plus years working for the city, and he chuckled softly. Tootie was a great administrator, but sometimes she got carried away. “Why? Will it explode?”
“No,” she answered briskly, “but you might. Get a move on.”
“But what—?” There was no reason to finish. He heard the empty silence and knew she’d ended the call. Sighing, he looked at the half-eaten sandwich in front of him and quickly caught Libby’s eye. “Can you get me something so I can take my sandwich with me?” he asked when she hurried over. “I’d really appreciate it. I have to get back to the office.”
“Of course. It’ll only take a second.” Libby disappeared, taking the sandwich and plate with her.
He’d just finished gathering his paperwork together and was pulling some money from his wallet, when she reappeared with a paper sack and handed it to him. “I hope everything is all right.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is. She probably thinks I’ve taken a long enough lunch today. You know what they say. A man’s work is never done.”
“I do believe it’s a woman’s work that’s never done,” she corrected him, as he moved away from the table.
“Could be.” He realized he was wishing he didn’t have to leave and knew he shouldn’t feel that way. Pressing the bills into her hand, he said, “That should take care of it, with a little extra for you.”
She shook her head, but he ignored it and left the tavern, turning toward the city building, two blocks away. It was a nice day, and he’d chosen to walk to Lou’s and enjoy the outdoors. He didn’t hurry, suspecting that Tootie simply thought it was time for him to be back at his desk.
As he reached the Chick-a-Lick Café, Morgan Rule, Desperation’s sheriff, stepped out and onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t see you inside and thought you might be working at home today,” Morgan said, joining him.
Garrett explained that he’d gone to Lou’s for a change, and they walked on to city hall together. The small building where they both worked sat on the far corner of what was considered the business part of town. Garrett stopped at the first door, while Morgan continued on to the next. Once inside, Garrett passed through the reception area and continued along a hallway.
As he walked by Tootie’s office, she stepped out and grabbed him by the arm, leading him to his office.
“What’s going on, Tootie?” he asked, tired of whatever game she was playing. “And where’s this package?”
“You’ll see,” she answered, hanging back as he walked into his office and put the paper bag on his desk. When he looked back at her, standing just outside the doorway, she nodded her head. “Go on.”
“I don’t see any—” He stopped, then shook his head, thinking he was seeing things.
A small girl sat on a nearby chair, her hands folded in her lap. His first thought was that she looked like his sister, and he couldn’t imagine how that could be. He was pretty sure she didn’t have a daughter.
So who was this child?
He turned to look at Tootie, still standing in the doorway. “Who—?”
“Shush,” she whispered, glancing behind him at the little girl. Crooking her finger at him to follow, she directed him outside the door and then pressed an envelope into his hand. “Maybe this will answer your question.”
Garrett glanced at the child again and then tore open the envelope. Unfolding the single piece of paper he found inside, he read handwriting that was eerily familiar to him, and he wasn’t eager to remember why. It wasn’t long before he knew.
Hoping Tootie wouldn’t see that his hands had begun to shake, he folded the paper and returned it to the envelope. He wasn’t sure he could speak, so he cleared his throat before he tried. “Who brought
