The Ruth Valley Missing (23 page)

I shook my head.

“Fine, just trying to keep the mood
light.” He slid the folder off the table and stuck it in his coat. “I should
go. I have some studying to do. And some planning. Let’s meet again after the
weekend.”

“That long?”

He smirked and I shot him a dirty
look, anticipating a smart remark. He took the hint and refrained.

“Yes. Even with your bake sale
responsibilities, we need to be careful.”

“So, Monday? Breakfast again?”

He nodded. “If plans need to change,
I’ll let you know Sunday after Mass.” He stood up and paused before smiling
again. “This was your treat, right? Vow of poverty and all.”

I nodded, shaking my head as he left
the diner.

I got home right before the sky
turned dark. Opening the door, I couldn’t help but notice the kitchen smelled
of oregano and basil. I peeked in the oven to see lasagna baking and smiled,
pleased to be dating such a domestic fellow.

The kitchen was quiet, so I moved
into the living room, a small box sitting on the table.

“Jack?”

I listened to Jack make his way
downstairs. “Sorry, was washing up before dinner.”

“I see you cooked.”

“And I snuck a bottle of wine from
your stash.”

“Special occasion?” I glanced at the
neatly wrapped box, trying not to be obvious, as Jack walked by on his way to
the kitchen.

“No, just thought I’d make you
dinner.”

I turned away from the mystery
package and followed Jack to the kitchen. He was setting the table and pouring
the wine.

“Are you sure there’s nothing going
on?”

He shook his head and laughed. “We
gotta work on that paranoid streak of yours. Go ahead and have a seat.”

I sat down at the kitchen table, and
watched as Jack brought us each a bowl of salad, and served up the lasagna. He
sat down, grabbed his fork, and looked up at me before digging in. “Go on,
before I get offended.”

I picked up my fork, trying to
concentrate on the food in front of me, rather than the mystery gift on the
table in the other room. We ate quietly for a bit, making the occasional chit
chat about the weather.

“How’s bake sale coordinating
going?”

“Fine. I swear everyone in this town
knows how to bake. It’s more of a chore getting people not to sign up. It’s
been more fun getting people to sign up for the bake-off.”

“Bake-off?”

“I thought it would be fun if there
was a contest this year. I mean, I can only imagine that everyone around here
has tasted most everyone else’s food. A bake-off means people can get a little
creative.”

“Who’s judging?”

“I haven’t picked judges yet. I
figure those should be really easy seats to fill.”

“Any ideas of who you might ask?” He
smiled, clearing his throat and sitting up straight in his chair.

I shook my head, returning his
smile. “No idea at all. I may have to wait and see who works hard to be in my
good graces.”

“I’m shocked. Are you saying you’re
not above bribery?”

“I guess that depends on what’s
being offered.”

Jack set down his fork and
disappeared into the other room, reappearing at the table with the tiny box. “I
was going to wait until after dinner, but if gets me special consideration…”

He set the box on the table in front
of me. I wiped my hands and pulled on the tiny bow holding the box closed.
Inside, sitting in a pile of cotton was a silver band, carvings circling round
in a never-ending Celtic knot.

“It may be on the big side, but I
thought you might like it.”

I put the ring on my index finger,
then switched it to the middle finger, where it was still loose but didn’t
threaten to fall off.

“This is really sweet, Jack.”

“You like it?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

Jack scooted his chair closer and
leaned forward, holding my newly adorned hand in both of his. “I wanted to be
sure you knew how much having you here means to me. I know it hasn’t been a whole
lot of time, but I haven’t felt this way about anyone in long while. I want you
to know how happy I am you showed up when you did.”

He brought my hand to his lips,
kissed it, then let his hands fall to his lap, still holding mine. Looking down
at the floor then at me, he continued, “I hope that’s not saying too much.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and
took a deep breath, not sure what to say. I was never good at serious, and my
past relationships always fizzled or completely crumbled well before anyone
starting admitting feelings, or in some cases, even had feelings.

“Of course,” he added, breaking the
silence, “if you don’t feel the same, I at least hope this speech got me a
judge’s chair at the bake-off.”

My held breath escaped in a giggle.
“Of course.”

“Of course I have the judge’s
chair?”

“Yes, the judge’s chair. And yes, to
everything else.” I leaned in, pressing my forehead against his. “I feel the
same way.”

He held a hand to my cheek, cradling
my face as he kissed me before moving away and letting go of my hand.

“I have to head out of town again
this weekend. May have finally found a doc to take Matthew’s place.”

I refilled my wine glass and took a
long sip. “Really? That’s been taking forever.”

“Yeah, not everyone is so inclined
as you to take off for the unknown of a little town like this.” I nodded,
thinking those people should stick with their gut. “Thought you might want to
meet me up there and spend the day Sunday.”

“I’d love to, but I’ve got so much
to do organizing the bake sale. I don’t want the Sisters to think I’m shirking
my responsibilities.”

“I understand. It was worth a shot.”

I hated lying, but I knew if I took
off, the nuns wouldn’t care what excuse I gave. I needed to stay under the
radar. My meetings with Father Mike were risky enough.

I felt a dull ache in my stomach as
I thought of all the things I was hiding from Jack. Even if I was doing it to
protect him, it bothered me more now, knowing for certain how much he cared
about me.

“Raincheck?”

He nodded, picking up our dishes and
taking them to the sink. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

I forced a smile, feeling very
unsure about what time we did, in fact, have.

The weekend crept by with Jack out
of town and the anticipation of my next meeting with Father Mike. I found
myself hoping that Father Mike would stop me after Mass with news, but he gave
me the same nod and ‘good-to-see-you’ he gave all the parishioners after
services ended.

By Monday morning, I couldn’t get to
the diner fast enough. I was grateful for the stormy looking sky, as it not
only gave me an excuse to skip the leisurely stroll and take my car, but it
also meant there would be fewer people at the diner.

I walked in and headed straight for
the same corner booth, finding it empty. I wasn’t surprised, since I knew I
rushed to beat the storm. After hanging my coat on the hook at the end of the
booth, I slid in, nodding to Doris when she raised the coffee pot in my
direction.

I sat, hands wrapped around the warm
mug of coffee, staring out the window. Waiting.

When I had made it to the bottom of
my first cup, I started to get anxious. I clinked the inside of my ring against
the empty mug, stopping only when I noticed the dirty look Doris was giving me
from behind the counter.

I mouthed an apology and took out my
phone. He was fifteen minutes late. Not necessarily indicative of a tragedy,
but it was certainly affecting my ability to stay calm.

“Another cup?” Doris walked over
with coffee pot, and looked at my fingers, now drumming the table. “Decaf,
maybe?”

“Sorry.” I stretched my fingers out,
then clasped my hands together under the table. “Yes, another cup would be
great, thank you.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she answered, pouring me
another cup and heading behind the counter.

By the end of the second cup, the
rain was coming down and I was becoming more than a little worried. I chewed on
my thumbnail, contemplating where I would search or what I should do, when the
front door swung open, Father Mike wrangling an unruly umbrella.

“Morning, Father,” Doris called out
from behind the counter, as friendly as I’d ever heard her.

“Morning, Doris. How’s that cat of
yours?”

“Up to no good as usual.”

“Glad to hear it,” he laughed,
finally getting the umbrella closed.

He headed to the booth, shaking the
rain off and tossing his coat on the hook next to mine.

“Sorry I’m a little behind this
morning. Alarm didn’t go off. You know how that goes.” He turned towards the
counter, raising his voice a bit, “Doris, dear, coffee when you have a chance. No
rush.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Are
you serious? You slept in?”

He ran a hand through his hair,
accomplishing nothing more than changing the direction in which it stood.
“What? You’ve never slept in?”

“Not when I have,” I cleared my
throat and spoke through clenched teeth, “important ‘bake sale’ business to
discuss. I thought something happened to you. I have no fingernails left.”

“You shouldn’t do that. It’s nasty
habit. You know how many germs you pick up with those fingers?”

Father Mike grinned as Doris walked
up and filled his coffee cup and took our breakfast order. As she left the
table, I gave him a blank stare.

“I should have called, I guess.
Although, that could have been awkward if you were with your Sheriff.” He
patted my hand. “It’s sweet of you to care so much, though. Really, I’m
touched.”

I pulled my hand back and sighed.
“Let’s get on with it. What have you got for me?”

He looked around and leaned in. “I
took a look at the church rolls. You know, membership. I compiled a list of
male parishioners that I haven’t seen since I started here.”

“And?”

“I sent them off to a friend. I’m
waiting to hear from him.”

“So, you don’t have anything.”

“These things take time.”

I sighed. “You’re not going to find
anything.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I searched for a ton of
fathers and husbands in this town that supposedly up and left and found
nothing. That was in the folder.”

“Well,” he paused, sipping his
coffee, “I may have resources you don’t.”

“Old seminary buddies?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

Doris returned with our breakfast
plates, giving Father Mike a big smile as she did. “I had cook make the bacon
extra crisp, the way you like it.”

“Thank you, Doris. You’re a
sweetheart.”

I shook my head as she left. “I think
you may be the only person I’ve ever seen Doris smile at.”

“Of course. I’m charming.”

“You really aren’t.”

Father Mike cleared his throat.
“Changing the subject ever so gracefully, you got anything for me?”

“I do. A plan for the day of the
bake sale.” He nodded, motioning for me to continue as he ate his food. “Those
clothes in the wardrobe at the convent. There could be evidence there.”

“You want to haul a wardrobe of
coats out of there undetected? That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not done yet.
I don’t plan on hauling anything. If we could get in there when the nuns are
out, maybe we can find something in the pockets, a used tissue, a snagged hair
on a button, anything that might lead us to who the coats belong to.”

“Like DNA evidence? You’ve been
watching too many crime dramas, James.”

I ignored him and continued. “But
there could be some kind of DNA evidence. Or identification.”

“Seems like a stretch. You’d think
they wouldn’t be so careless as to leave any evidence sitting in there.”

“We have to go with what we’ve got.”

He sighed. “And how do you propose
getting inside?”

“Our lovely little bake-off. The
whole town will be at that, including the sisters. I’m even asking the Sisters
to be on the judges’ panel, to ensure that they’ll be unable to interrupt my
snooping.”

I sat back in my seat, pleased with
myself.

“Then we both go in.”

“Why? One of us should be the
lookout. Plus, what if someone noticed we were both missing? Too many problems.
I’ll go in alone.”

Father Mike pulled his mouth in
tight and frowned. “I don’t like it. But fine. We’ll do it that way. We’ll
solidify the plan next time we meet. Timing will be everything. Get in, get
what we need, get out.”