Gone (10 page)

He got to his feet. He tossed a bill onto the table to cover their meals and made his way to the door. Clare watched him go. Her appetite had soured and she left the table also.

Jake was standing on the sidewalk in the shade of the canopy of the diner when she went outside. The muscles in his face were pulled taut in anger. She was plenty angry herself. The sooner she got away from him, the better. She would have liked to send him on his way, and conduct the interview with the store owner herself, but she wouldn’t let anger risk her chance at the information. Jake was her best bet at finding out what she wanted to know.

He glanced her way as she came to stand beside him. “Might as well take one vehicle to the grocers.” His words were clipped. “I’m parked across the street. We can pick up your car later.”

Clare matched his tone. “That would work just as well with me driving. I’m parked right here.” She went to the driver’s side door of her rental. “I need to get to know my way around town. You can direct me as we go along.”

Without giving him a chance to comment, she hit the keyless remote, unlocking the doors, and got in behind the wheel. Jake joined her inside the vehicle.

“Where to?” she asked, cranking up the air conditioning.

“Follow Main. Turn right at the next light.”

The grocery store was a squat building on a large plot of land. Clare parked behind a rusty pickup.

Jake unlatched his seat belt. When she made no move to do the same, he raised an eyebrow at her.

She’d made a decision on the drive over. “Better if you go in alone and talk with Dawson.”

She hated saying that, hated more taking a back seat when it came to Beth, but nothing would be gained from her presence during Jake’s talk with the store owner. If anything, at seeing her, the man might decide not to cooperate at all.

Jake nodded. Clearly, he felt the same. He left the car.

* * * * *

Jake closed the car door with more force than was necessary. Since meeting Clare yesterday, slamming doors was becoming a habit. The short drive from the diner hadn’t cooled his anger with her.

She thought he’d been spying on her by checking out Beth Ryder. Jake’s jaw ached with the force of gritting his teeth together. But that wasn’t all that hurt.

He hurt. After all this time, he could still be hurt by her. No one had the power to evoke such strong emotion in him as she did. To touch him as deeply. The fact that she could still shift the ground under his feet left him feeling weak and helpless.

He stopped for a moment, getting his bearings, bringing himself back to the moment then made his way across the parking lot. Mikey North called out to him.

“Hi, J-Jake,” Mikey said.

The boy was Jake’s next door neighbor. Mikey was fourteen with a scraggly growth of whiskers sprouting between raw acne. He worked Saturday mornings for Dawson Foods and at the moment was pushing a linked row of carts.

“Hey, Mikey.”

The boy fell into step beside Jake.

“C-can I borrow your c-camping gear tonight?”

“Sure. You know where it is. Help yourself.”

“C-cool.”

Mikey bent low over the carts, broke into a trot and moved on to collect another abandoned cart.

Inside the store, only a handful of shoppers walked the aisles. Jake didn’t need to ask where to find Cal Dawson. He spotted him easily at the front of the store. The store owner was crouched in front of a shelf of canned peas.

“Morning, Cal,” Jake said.

Dawson glanced up from the peas. “How you doin’, Jake?”

“At the moment, I could use your help.”

Dawson rose to his feet. He wiped his hands down the sides of the apron tied to his slim waist. “What can I do for you?”

“I’d like the name of the driver that delivers your produce, and the company he drives for.”

Jake figured his question would spark a reaction from Dawson, but not the one he got. The man blanched. A fine sheen of sweat coated his brow.

“What would you be wanting to know about him for?” Dawson asked.

“It’s a personal matter, Cal, nothing to do with the store. Can you get that information?”

Dawson’s breathing quickened. “I don’t know it right off. I’d have to look that up. It’s a Saturday. Store’s busy. I don’t have time to go digging through my files.”

No additional customers had entered the store in the last few moments. There was hardly a crowd. Jake nodded slowly to Dawson, wondering at the excuse. “I appreciate you taking the time.”

Dawson cleared his throat. “He hasn’t been here in a week.” Dawson swiped a hand across his forehead. “Company’s got a new guy delivering here now.”

“Okay. I’d still like the name of the company and the driver.”

Dawson’s gaze lowered briefly. When he glanced up, his gaze fixed on something behind Jake. An instant later, his eyes widened slightly and his gaze darted back to Jake.

“That sumbitch,” Dawson said loudly. “Yellow pole cat sneaking off with another man’s wife.”

Jake narrowed his eyes at Dawson’s sudden outburst and the vehemence behind it. He turned to look at what had captured Dawson’s attention. They were in line with the double glass doors that led to the parking lot. Clare was now in plain view. She’d left the car and stood leaning back against the yellow driver’s door.

“Don’t expect he’d have the guts to show his face back in Farley,” Dawson went on. “Haven’t seen him since the day him and Dean’s wife took off together.”

“That so,” Jake said.

“Damn right, that’s so.” Dawson scowled, drawing his brows together.

“I could still use that name, Cal.”

Dawson rubbed the back of his neck. He met Jake’s gaze then averted it. “Etherley Transport delivers some of my stock.” Dawson’s voice sounded strained. “So do Robert’s and McKinnon’s. Not sure which of the three bring in my fruits and vegetables. We get different drivers all the time. I can’t keep track of all their names.”

Perspiration was now trickling down the side of Dawson’s face. He turned and led the way to the back of the store and into his office. The space was small, hardly larger than a closet, but neat. An inbox and a computer sat on the desk. A filing cabinet took up one corner. A copy machine occupied another.

Dawson went to the computer and pressed a few keys. Seconds later, he snagged a sheet of paper from the tray of the copier and held it out to Jake.

Contact information for the transport companies Dawson named were listed on the sheet.

Jake accepted the paper. “Thanks for your help, Cal.”

* * * * *

Clare was still standing by the car when Jake reached it. She pushed off the door.

“What did you find out?” she asked.

“Etherley Transport. McKinnon Transport. Robert Transport. They all deliver stock to Dawson Foods. Dawson claimed he doesn’t remember the names of the drivers.” Jake handed the printout to Clare.

Clare read it. “Okay.” She pushed hair back from her face. Excitement surged through her. “Looks like I’ll be making some phone calls.” She turned away from Jake then turned back to face him. “Claimed? You don’t believe him?”

“No. I think Dawson knew exactly who I was asking about and for some reason he didn’t want to tell me the man’s name.”

Clare frowned, mulling that over. Why wouldn’t Dawson want to name the driver? He had to know once they had the names of the transport companies, the driver would be easy to trace. The best that Dawson would have achieved was a short delay.

She didn’t know Dawson well enough to speculate, and in truth, his reason meant nothing to her. All she was interested in was finding Beth.

Clare blew out a breath. “Thank you—ah.” She held up the paper. “For this.” And because she didn’t like being in his debt, she added, “If I can return the favor, let me know.”

Jake leveled his gaze on her. “Is it that hard to accept help from me, Clare?” Before she could respond, he held up a hand. “Never mind. Professional courtesy. No thanks necessary.”

His cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and the tension in his expression eased into a grin.

“Morning, honey,” he said to his caller. “I hope you’re setting everything up for our tea party. I can’t wa—” The smile left Jake’s face. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll be home in five minutes. Count with me, sweetie. One. Two . . .”

Jake held the phone to his ear and strode to the passenger side door.

Clare joined him in the car.

He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “I need to get home. Turn right at the end of this street then left at the next one.”

She started the car and at Jake’s urgent tone, pressed the gas pedal. In the seat beside her, he continued to count off the time. She overheard a very young girl, her voice choked with tears, repeating the numbers after Jake.

When she reached the street Jake had directed her to, he pointed to a house that was painted two different colors. Parts of the wooden trim and porch were brown, while other parts were yellow.

Clare pulled into the driveway. Jake got out without a word and ran toward the house. Before he reached it, the front door was flung open and a young girl with copper-colored hair spilling out of a loose pony tail and pajamas depicted with pink teddy bears appeared. Clare had no experience with children, but thought it was a good guess that the child was five or six years old.

The girl met Jake on the porch and flung herself into his arms. She had obviously been watching for Jake’s arrival. He scooped her up, holding her close.

Jake had a child?

Was there also a wife?

Clare felt a jab to her stomach at the thought and she yanked her gaze from him and backed the car down the drive. Someone started a lawnmower and the roar drowned out the laughter of a group of children gathered on the sidewalk.