That made Beryl smile. Jake turned his head and looked at the woman as she passed, his mouth falling open a bit. He shook his head without speaking.
Beryl frowned. Did he know the woman? Probably not. She shook it off and kept moving, slowly, to their destination.
Before Beryl was ready, they came to the spot where they’d met up. It was time to part ways, even though she wasn’t ready to go.
“Thanks for lunch, Beryl. I had a great time and I look forward to tomorrow tonight.” He didn’t try to kiss her, even though she would have let him.
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow tonight.” Reluctantly, Beryl released his hand and turned to go before she flung him to the ground and kissed him thoroughly, like she wanted to. Like she planned to do tomorrow after dinner.
Three steps away from Jake, Beryl heard another human voice in her head, from the musclebound dude right beside her who was heading toward Jake.
“Finally, that redhead is gone and he’s alone. Now we can get him, put him in the car and deliver him.”
Chapter Eleven
Jake was practically floating. He was deliriously happy after his picnic with Beryl. It was difficult letting her hand go, but he knew he’d see her tomorrow and decided going slow was the best course of action, given her past. He could certainly understand her reluctance to date ever again, even as he was grateful she’d given him a chance.
As they walked out of the park, they’d passed several people and he had the strangest sensation in his head. A woman in exercise gear passed by them and he could have sworn she spoke. He heard words in his head, but her lips weren’t moving. He chalked it up to his memory loss making him crazy and moved on. He didn’t say a word to Beryl. It was surely better that she not think he was hearing things on their first date.
Jake stood on the corner where a flashing four-way red light signaled traffic to stop before proceeding. He started to cross the street, looking both ways, as one never knew when a van full of bros would be out and about.
He saw an old vehicle approaching. He thought it was called a station wagon. The color was mostly rust with patches of dull blue paint here and there. On the back quarter panel was what looked like a piece of wood paneling. Strange.
There was a guy behind the wheel, and as the vehicle got closer, Jake noticed that he wore a colorful red bandana covering the lower half of his face below his nose. Was he protecting his beard or something? So bizarre.
Before he could process that fully, the weird sensation of someone talking in his head started again. Jake heard what he thought was a low male voice say, “Finally, that redhead is gone and he’s alone. Now we can get him, put him in the car and deliver him.”
Were they talking about Beryl? She was a redhead. A beautiful redhead.
Jake stopped in his tracks and turned around. Before he knew it, Beryl was racing toward him. She had dropped her grocery bag and blanket on the sidewalk a few steps from him and leapt into his personal space, her arms wrapping around his neck. She pulled him away from the street, dancing them back and away from the crosswalk and the approaching station wagon. Beryl’s back landed against the brick wall of the bank and Jake was pressed into her from shoulders to knees. Her expression was one of concern, but her green-eyed gaze spoke volumes. She continued to hold him tight.
“Crap, where did she come from? Dang it, we missed our chance,” Jake heard. He twisted away from Beryl’s sultry gaze to see a big guy standing at the curb. The dude had a blue bandana over his lower face, hiding his mouth, so Jake didn’t know if he’d spoken.
Then the guy backed up two steps, out into the street, right in front of the quickly approaching blue and rust station wagon. There was the sound of screeching tires, but the big guy with the blue bandana got hit before the vehicle stopped.
He landed on the hood of the vehicle, cursing loudly and shaking his fist at the driver. The driver’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he listened to the victim on his hood yell, “You hit me, you idiot!”
All around them, cell phones were pointed at the guys with bandanas and the strange blue and rust car with wood paneling. Nearby, Jake heard a muffled voice say, “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” The owner of the phone reported that a car had hit a guy in the street and gave the location.
The sudden wail of an approaching siren filled the air around them.
Good. The police were on their way to figure this out.
Beryl put her hand on Jake’s cheek, pulling his attention back to her. He forgot all about the accident on the street. His focus was squarely on Beryl.
“Let’s go back to your shop, okay? I’ll walk with you.”
He was about to ask if they should tell the police what they’d seen. Jake glanced over in time to see the guy with the blue bandana get off the station wagon, race around the front of the vehicle, wrench the passenger side door open and jump in. He screamed at the other man, “Drive! Don’t let the cops catch us!”
His door wasn’t even shut when the guy in the red bandana floored it and the station wagon roared down the street. The driver sped away so fast, the back end of his car fishtailed, grazing the side of one parked car, then another. Five seconds later, a sheriff’s patrol vehicle, siren blaring, blew past in the same direction, toward the highway.
Jake wondered if they should stick around as witnesses. Beryl, seeming to read his mind, said, “We can report what we saw here later on to the sheriff if we need to.” She glanced around at the pedestrians filming the scene with their phones.
“Okay.” Jake nodded. He was still pressed against Beryl and didn’t want to move. “But you don’t have to walk me to my store. I’ll be okay.”
“I know. But I’d feel better if I saw you safely there.”
Jake nodded and peeled himself away from Beryl. She retrieved her paper grocery sack and blanket from the sidewalk and they quickly walked to his shop.
