“What’s not to love?” Smiling, Olivia spread more recipes across the counter. “You best clean up. Your husband tends to stop here once during shift to refill his coffee and raid the cookie jar. Does he even know you’re here?”
“If he’s checked his phone or has been by the house, he’ll figure it out.” Still, she popped open the containers for her pencils and charcoal and shifted her creative toys into the slots where they went.
Olivia went back to her recipes. “He’s checking on me and trying not to be obvious about it. He comes by the shop, too.”
“He loves you, and taking care of his family has always been his number one commitment.”
Olivia blushed. “He was always a good boy, and he turned into a really good man.”
“Yes, he did.” Summer rose and put her tools in her tote bag and pulled out the items she needed to preserve the drawing until she could get home and spray the surface. “Can I help you find the recipes?”
“I’d like that.” Olivia divided her remaining recipe cards and laid half out for Summer.
Her contented tone pierced Summer to the core. “I going to head out soon. Find a good place to yell at my grandfather.”
Olivia kissed her cheek. “You do that, honey. You’ll feel better.”
If she could shed this overwhelming hurt, she would count her blessings – for the stability her grandparents had given her and for Tom’s love.
&&&&&&&&&&
Summer was at his grandmother’s house, and he was dying to walk into the kitchen and eavesdrop. He couldn’t do that without being obvious. The need for her to figure out her past weighed on him. He should be reading the report in his hand, but he stared out the window at the hospital entrance lost in thought.
Norah finished her call and shot out of the dispatch chair and to his side. Her blonde hair was subdued in a ponytail, and the dispatch shirt kept her professional if he ignored the reindeer slippers on her feet.
“I’d ask why you’re staring out the window, but I don’t care unless Santa has miraculously appeared across the street.”
He gave her a side-eye. “Something new for me?”
“Yes. Santawasat the hospital. On the bench outside. Rand Caldwell reports he’s not there now, but the picture was posted on social media during lunch.”
Tom swore in his head. “This is ruining Santa Claus for me.”
“Sorry. Rafe is on the other end of town on a medical. Bret is out at the high school. Again. Chief is at the mayor’s office. Again. You want to take this call to talk to Mr. Caldwell?”
“Where’s Carmen?”
“Courthouse. Again. It’s like they’re trying to clear the court docket or something.”
“I’ll take it.” Tom grabbed his radio. When he’d made sergeant, he’d thought his duties would change. Nope. Not at all. “Any other social media sightings?”
Norah’s eyes widened. She checked the room and leaned closer.
“Spill it,” Tom ordered.
“Well, I have it from Trina Murray there’s a picture of the old guy by the boat launch at the reservoir. I can’t find it anywhere online and nobody reported it.”
Irritation was not his friend. Like they needed false sightings at this point. But why not? He wasn’t naturally a moody man, but he was over this issue. “Anywhere else?”
“Library.” Norah popped her phone out of her pocket. “I’ve been saving them.” She handed Tom her phone. He scrolled through one short of a baker’s dozen in photos, noting the fire department and hospital were visited, but the police department had been a no-go. The building being right across the street from the hospital qualify the visit as a two-fer, though. Jesus take the wheel.
He was going to recommend to the judge that these jokers have their licenses suspended. They could only be using transportation to get the girth of the figure around.
“Anybody report all these other sightings?”
“Oh yeah, half the town. It’s in the log.”
“So why do I need to go to the hospital?”
