“She’s a mainstay of Biscuits and is here daily—too afraid she’d miss something juicy if she wasn’t. As a returning Elite, be prepared for her to be curious about you. Also, she’s due for a refill. Decaf.”
“Got it.” I grab the pot of decaf as I pass the coffee station and head to Edna’s table.
“Good afternoon, Miss Edna. I’m Poppy Hallowind.” I set her pancakes down in front of her and top up her coffee, careful not to spill on her notepad.
I try not to giggle at the mug Marty gave her. It says, ‘Careful, my coffee is hot, but my tea is hotter.’
It seems Lady Whistledown has nothing on Miss Edna.
Given the opening, her blue-washed eyes peer up at me. There’s a moment of recognition, and I wait.
I leave it to her to tell me how we’re going to play this. The way she dismissed Asher and me after we found her golfcart-deep in someone’s hedge told me she wasn’t and likely still isn’t willing to discuss the matter.
“Poppy Hallowind?” she repeats. “Zoe’s oldest?”
“Yes ma’am. Just arrived back in Emberwood last week.”
She picks two creamers from the little bowl in the center of her table and peels back the paper before pouring them into her coffee. “And where are you back from, dear?”
“Wichita. I’ve been there for the past five years.”
“And what about your sisters? Will they be joining you?”
“I hope so. Honestly, I wanted to talk to you about that sometime. We were separated after my parents died, and I want to track them down.”
Miss Edna stops cutting her pancakes and blinks up at me. “Separated? You don’t know where they are?”
“No ma’am, but I’m hoping being back here will open the doors I need to find out what happened and where they are.”
Edna pours a heaping dose of syrup onto her pancakes. “Well, I hope you’re right, dear. Let me think on it. I may have some notes in one of my journals from back then that might help.”
That was exactly what I was hoping for. “Thank you. That would be wonderful. Now please, enjoy your meal. I’ll be back tocheck on you in a bit, but if you need anything, just give me a wave.”
My shift goes smoothly for the next few hours, and it doesn’t take long to fall into sync with Marty and Tanner. They really are great guys. And the more I get to know them, the more I think they’re a perfect couple.
Near the end of my shift, Asher arrives and claims a stool at the counter. Not long after, Sheriff Decker stops in for a travel mug refill on his way to check in on Jace Jenkins, Emberwood’s mechanic and resident heartbreaker.
According to Marty, Jace is tall, broody, and great with his hands, and has all the eligible women in town going in for regular vehicle upkeep. “It’s less about car care and more about them wondering how to get Jace to tunethemup.”
The sheriff chuckles. “Well, I don’t suppose he’ll be doing much more than growling at folks for the next few days. Last night, he nearly drove his truck into a ditch on his way home from the garage. I found him slumped over in the front seat of his truck, sound asleep.”
That sounds oddly coincidental to how we found Miss Edna, and I meet the arched brow of Asher as he lifts his head.Yeah, weird, right?
But not wanting to get on Miss Edna’s bad side by spilling the tea on her, I don’t say anything.
I do jot down the name Jace Jenkins on a page from my order pad and hand it to Asher. “Maybe, if he has some spare time once he’s feeling better, we can get him to come and give the forgotten cars in our garage a once-over.”
Asher nods and tucks the note into his pocket.
Marty boxes up a couple of pieces of pie and adds another coffee for the sheriff to take to Jace on the house. “Lord knows that boy runs on caffeine and spite, but not being able to make it home? A young buck like him? I reckon there’s more to it than simply runnin’ on empty.”
I open the dessert display and take out a large piece of coconut cream pie for Asher. “More than a few folks today mentioned feeling run down. Maybe there’s a flu bug going around. Or it could be allergies. Fall weeds can really wipe some people out.”
Marty gives Tanner a knowing look, but whatever silent conversation is shared, it doesn’t involve me.
“Well, I’m glad he wasn’t hurt.” Asher takes the first forkful of pie into his mouth and groans. “There are certainly worse things than not being able to keep your eyes open and crashing out on the front seat of your truck.”
“Much worse,” I agree.
