He swung back to Clem. “I know you’re frustrated. We are, too. We’ll figure it out. Give us a few more days. In the meantime, I need a take-out dinner for Terry Pine. He’s under the weather.”
“I can do that. His surgery laid him low. We’ll get him some good stuff to tied him over. Anything else?”
“No. I’ll stop at Sal’s and get him a few groceries, too.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to come at you. I don’t like being at cross purposes with Garrett.”
Tom raised a brow and tempered his reply. “Then don’t be. Let’s focus on things that matter.”
Clem grimaced. “Done. You need dinner, too?”
“Yes, please.”
“Usual?”
Tom nodded.
Clem looked at Summer.
“Don’t bring me another thing,” Summer chided.
Clem’s chuckle was the most natural thing of the whole conversation. “Don’t like my hot chocolate and desserts?”
“Oh, I like them too much.”
Clem stared out the window to Slade’s. “Good to see Lucille in here.”
“I heard she used to work for you.” Summer could coax anyone to talk.
Clem’s grin took years off his face. “Oh, man. That was years and years ago.”
“Bet there’s a story there.”
“One you will never hear.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Summer gave him her best smile.
Clem pointed a finger at her. “Nah, ain’t gonna work, missy. What happens in Clem’s, stays in Clem’s.” He walked off, going behind the door to the kitchen.
Tom’s grumpiness returned. “Wish that was truly the case, but more gossip starts here than any place outside the high school and the VFW.”
Summer pulled on his hand, and he followed her to the booth, waving to a few neighbors on the way.
She resumed her spot at the table, laced her hands in front of her, and gazed at him. “Is there anyone in this town you don’t know?”
He settled across from her. “A few, but I was raised here, and I have been a cop for a long time. I make it my business to meet and talk with everyone. It helps keep the community safe and settled.”
The table was littered with notes and drawings. Her empty mug and dessert plate sat on the edge for Myrna to grab. The lull between lunch and dinner was keeping the woman in cleaning mode.
“What was my grandfather’s legacy in this town?”
Surprised, Tom leaned on his elbows and studied her face. “You grew up with your grandparents.”
“I knew my grandfather to have arguments with, though. I wasn’t the most cooperative child, and lots of times, I was lost in learning to draw and paint. You talked to him as an adult.”
“He was proud of this town, proud of the railroad, loved your grandmother. He was proud of you and was pained he didn’t do enough. Why?”
“Families. Legacies. Many people here with long histories.”
