Welcome to Last Chance (11 page)

She turned and ran up the steps. Elizabeth smiled from her recliner and opened her mouth to say something. Lainie beat her to it.

“Could I borrow your truck? There's something I need to do.”

“Now? It's past ten.”

“I won't be gone long, but it's really important.”

“Well, of course, honey. The keys are on the hook in the kitchen, but—”

“Thanks.” Lainie didn't stay to hear the rest. She ran to her
room, grabbed the backpack from the closet, and snatched the keys off the hook on her way out the door.

Not until she was on the road did she stop to consider what she was going to do. Disposing of the drugs in Last Chance was out. The town was just too small. Even if no one saw her, someone was likely to find them. She turned toward San Ramon.

The plan came to her before she got to the highway. She'd find a trash barrel and shove the package deep inside. It would wind up buried in a landfill somewhere. Or, better yet, she'd drop it in a mailbox. It might actually get to the proper authorities that way.

Up ahead, she could see the small portable building that housed the county sheriff substation. Ben Apodaca's patrol car was parked alongside, nose pointed toward the highway in case he got an emergency call. Her mouth was dry as her truck, almost under its own volition, slowed and pulled off the highway and stopped next to Ben's patrol car. Through the window she could see him at his desk, bent over some paperwork.

Closing her eyes, she tried to compose a prayer, but all that came was, “Help, please, help.” Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the strap of her backpack and got out of the truck.

Ben looked up when she walked in. Lainie hadn't seen him since that first day at the Dip 'n' Dine, but she could tell he recognized her. “Evening. What can I do for you?”

Lainie took a deep breath, opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, cleared her throat, and then plunged in. “I . . . I just need to talk to you.” There. If she had second thoughts now, it was just too bad.

“Then come in and have a seat and we'll talk.” Ben gestured with his chin at a chrome and worn red vinyl chair across from his desk and reached for the stained carafe simmering on a hot plate behind him. “Want some coffee? It's been sitting here a while and it'd probably be easier to eat it with a fork than drink it, but it's hot.”

Lainie accepted the chipped white mug and held it in her hands. The acrid, burned aroma of the over-brewed liquid assailed her nose and wafted around her. Across the desk, Ben waited in silence.

“I'm not sure where to begin.” She looked from the opaque black brew in her cup into Ben's brown eyes.

“Well, you know what they say.” A half smile lifted a corner of Ben's mouth.

Lainie nodded at her coffee mug. “Okay, well, when I left California, I was sort of running.” She glanced quickly up at Ben. “Not from the law, but from . . . a person.”

She waited for Ben to say something, but he was silent.

“There was this guy who I knew, who I'd been with for a while, and he was getting into some serious stuff. Stuff I wanted no part of.”

“Stuff? What kind of stuff?”

Lainie hesitated. “Drugs. Using at first. Then I think he was getting caught up in dealing.”

“And how do you fit in with this?”

“I didn't fit in at all. That's what I'm trying to say. I've never used, and I sure never sold any. I hated that Nick—that was his name—was hanging out with those dirtbags. They scared me, and he started to scare me too.”

Silence filled the small office again as Lainie gazed into her coffee mug like she was reading her past there. Finally she looked up. Ben had leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn't tell if he believed her or not.

“So I started saving my money, and the day I had enough to buy the cheapest car on the lot, I threw everything I had into this old backpack and hit the road.”

“And you got as far as Last Chance.”

Lainie nodded.

Ben leaned his arms on the desk. “Why do I think there's more to this story?”

Taking a deep breath, Lainie pulled her backpack onto her lap. “Because there is.”

She reached into the depths of the battered pack and pulled out the ziplock bag and placed it on the desk in front of Ben. “When I got here and I was unpacking, I noticed the lining was torn, and I found this tucked way down in the bottom.”

Ben picked up the package and looked at it. He passed it from one hand to the other and held it to his nose. When he looked at Lainie, all warmth was gone from his eyes.

“Is this what it looks like?”

Lainie shrugged. “I don't know. You tell me.”

He placed it back on his desk. “You say you found this when you got here. Why didn't you turn it in right away? It's been what, nearly two weeks?”

“I was scared! I had hoped Nick would just let me go, but when I found this I knew he'd be looking for me. And even though everyone here seemed nice, I didn't really know them. That first day at the diner, you just looked at me like you wanted to run me out of town. I'm surprised you didn't do a background check on me.”

Ben's hooded brown eyes met hers in a level gaze, and one eyebrow rose.

“You did. You checked up on me.”

“You bet I did. Elizabeth Cooley has a heart as big as all outdoors, and I wasn't about to let some stranger off the interstate come in and take advantage of her.”

Lainie fought down indignation. He had a point. “And?”

“You're still here, aren't you? The report came back as clean as a hound's tooth. Although, now that I think about it, I never have seen any California ID.”

Without saying a word, Lainie opened her purse to retrieve her driver's license and handed it across the desk. Ben looked closely. “Yep, that's the name I looked for, all right.” He handed it back to her and pulled a yellow pad from his desk drawer. “Okay, here's what we're going to do. You're going to tell me everything you can about where this came from, and then you're going to stay right here in Last Chance till we get this sorted out. Okay?”

Lainie nodded.

“And one more thing. I guess it's only right that you tell Elizabeth what's going on, but no one else needs to be involved in this.”

He looked at Lainie, and she nodded again.

“Good. Now, let's start with this Nick. He have a last name?”

It was a little past midnight when Lainie pulled back into Elizabeth's driveway. In one sense, nothing had changed. Whether or not she actually had the drugs, she knew Nick was looking for her. But on the other hand, he seemed farther away and she felt safer than at any moment since she first discovered the bag in her backpack.

Light poured through the screen door and lit the walk. Elizabeth was waiting up, of course. Lainie sighed and threw her lightened backpack over one shoulder. It was going to be a long night.

F
ayette was already busy when Lainie got to work the next morning. She barely glanced at Lainie as she passed. “Table two needs coffee.”

Lainie grabbed the coffee pot. “Matthew okay?”

Fayette's lips tightened into a straight line. “Depends on who you ask. He's mad at me because Ben stopped the car, checked them all for alcohol, and then told him to get on home because his mama was worried about him. Said the other guys laughed at him. Well, I'm sorry, but if he'd been home when he said he would, he'd have spared himself all that.”

Lainie watched Fayette stomp off and decided it might be a good idea to stay out of the way herself—not easy since she was stiff from her long ride.

But when Carlos answered the phone in the kitchen and it became clear he was agreeing to send Ray's lunch over, Fayette slapped her order book down by the cash register and hit the door to the kitchen with one hand. She kept her voice low, but there was no mistaking her tone when she grabbed the receiver from Carlos.

“Ray? We're just a little bit too busy over here to do delivery today. But if you want to come get it, I'll have it waiting for you at the cash register.” She paused. “No, I'm not mad. I'm just busy. And so is everyone else. So do you want to give me that order?”
She caught Lainie's eye and snapped her fingers, pointing at the order pad by the cash register.

When Ray crossed the road a few minutes later, Fayette was waiting by the cash register. “That'll be eight ninety-five.” She punched the amount into the cash register and stood unsmiling while he counted out his cash.

Clutching his white paper bag, Ray met Lainie's eyes as he headed out the front door with a questioning “What gives?” look. She answered with a “Who knows?” shrug. But when the diner finally emptied, she cornered Fayette by the pie safe.

“Are you sure Matthew's okay?”

“He's fine. He's not speaking to me at the moment, but he's fine. Why?”

“Because you've been a witch all day, that's why. You've yelled at me, you've yelled at Ray, you've even yelled at Carlos. And what's worse, the customers noticed it. Juanita even asked me what's wrong. You want her noticing that you're yelling at everyone? She's not exactly the type to keep things to herself.”

Fayette slammed her rag down on the table she was washing. “That's just what's wrong with this place. Every blessed person in town knows what every other blessed person in town thinks, says, or does. And I, for one, am just sick to death of it. I don't know what possessed me to buy this place anyway. I was this close to opening a French bistro in Albuquerque.” She held up a thumb and forefinger about an inch apart.

Lainie raised her eyebrows. “French bistro? In Albuquerque?”

“Well, why not? You think slingin' hash is the best someone like me can do? Is that it?”

“Hey, take it easy. You can do what you want to. But you have to admit, there's a big difference between those two choices. And why Albuquerque?”

Fayette finished wiping down the table and slid into a chair. “Because I like Albuquerque. Bud and I went there on our honeymoon, and we stayed near Old Town for a few days. They have the cutest little restaurants there, and ever since I dreamed of having one.” Her smile was wistful. “The French bistro just sort of made itself part of the daydream. I thought I'd call it Lafayette. Don't you think that'd be cute?” Lainie nodded and Fayette went on. “Anyway, when Bud was killed, I got a pretty good-sized insurance check, and that's when I had to decide whether to put feet to my dreams or not. But the insurance money was the only thing in the world I had to take care of Matthew with, and I just couldn't take the risk.”

Lainie looked around the empty diner. “This place was less of a risk?”

“Oh, I don't know. At least it's here where I grew up. People care. And if I do fall flat on my face, there'll be people to help me back up. And do you know what the deciding factor was? I thought since I was bringing up Matthew alone, this would be the safest place to do it. Great decision, huh?” Her laugh was bitter.

“I guess you can find trouble anyplace you look for it. And I'll tell you this, in the city, you don't call the local cop and ask him to tell your kid to get himself home.”

“Maybe not. But I get so scared sometimes that I'm not up to raising a teenage boy.” Fayette put her hands against the edge of the table and started to push herself to her feet. “Sorry I took it out on you and Carlos and everyone else who crossed my path this morning.”

A service truck came to a stop just outside the door, and Fayette watched the driver get out and hitch up his jeans. “Great. Now my day's just perfect. Lainie, that coffeepot's about empty. Make us a new pot, would you? I'll take care of this.”

As Lainie stepped behind the counter, she heard Fayette mutter,
“Chet Babcock, you picked the wrong day to mess with this mama bear.”

“Hey, Fayette, I've decided to let bygones be bygones. Came in to kiss and make up.” Chet was alone this time and grabbed his own menu from the rack before he slid into a booth by the window.

“Afternoon, Chet. What can I get you?” Fayette placed a glass of ice water on the table and stood back, unsmiling, with her order pad ready.

“Aw, come on, Fayette. Lighten up. Used to be we could have a little fun in here. Don't go getting all stuck up on me.”

Fayette waited without saying a word, and Chet tossed the menu on the table. “Shoot, only thing in here worth eating is the green enchiladas. Gimme some of that.”

“You got it.” Fayette turned toward the kitchen.

“And put a fried egg on it.”

“You got that too.”

Fayette disappeared into the kitchen, and Chet slumped back in the booth. He glared at Lainie, and she returned his gaze until he dropped his eyes and looked out the window.

In a few minutes Fayette was back with a plate of green chile enchiladas and a basket of golden pillows of fried bread.

“Here you go.” Fayette was smiling now. “And I brought you some sopaipillas too. Both of them are on the house.”

“Well, now, that's more like it.” Chet grinned as he picked up his fork. “Apology accepted.”

“Just a minute. Don't think this is an apology. We don't have anything to apologize for here.”

Wariness replaced the grin on Chet's face. “Then why's it on the house?”

“That's up to you, Chet. It's either the last thing you'll ever eat in my restaurant or it's an agreement between the two of us that
you'll behave like a gentleman when you come in here. And that means keeping your crude comments and your hands to yourself.” Her smile was cheerful and warm. “So what's it going to be?”

“You keep your enchiladas, and your sopaipillas too. I don't need this.” Chet threw his fork down and began to push out of the booth.

“Your choice, but you know no one makes green enchiladas like Carlos. And Russ tells me this year's chile crop is going to be especially fine. You don't want to go cutting off your nose to spite your face.”

Chet hesitated. Finally he grabbed a sopaipilla and tore off a corner with his teeth. While Fayette waited, he drizzled honey into the warm hollow interior and stuffed half of it in his mouth.

“Well, what's it going to be?

Chet gripped his fork like it was a hammer and dug into the steaming enchilada. The yolk of the egg on top broke and spread like warm sauce through the green chile. “You're worse than my wife, you know that?”

“Friends, then. Good. I was hoping that was the choice you'd make. Now we have just one more thing to take care of and we're good. Lainie, come here a minute, would you?”

Lainie, who had been watching the confrontation with undisguised fascination, jumped when Fayette suddenly called her name. She crossed the room and Fayette slipped her arm around her waist. Chet's expression showed he wasn't any happier about what Fayette might have in mind than Lainie was.

“Chet, I'd like you to meet Lainie Davis. She lives here in Last Chance now, and she works for me. I think that as a gentleman, you'd like to apologize for the way you acted last time you were in here.”

Chet threw down his fork again. “Me apologize? She like to broke my thumb off.”

“And you know you had it coming. Now, you prove that you intend to show the same respect to every employee of the Dip 'n' Dine that you've promised me, and I'll throw in a piece of pie with the enchilada and the sopaipillas. I've got lemon, coconut, apple, and pecan. Your choice.”

Chet's brows met low over his eyes and he stared out the window a long moment before throwing a quick glance at Lainie and muttering, “Sorry. I was out of line.”

Fayette's smile widened, and she gave Lainie's waist a quick squeeze. “There, that didn't hurt a bit, did it?”

Chet picked up his fork again and shoveled in a huge bite of enchilada. When he could get it shifted to his cheek, he said, “I'll take pecan.”

After Chet finished his meal and ambled back to his truck, Lainie held up her hand for a high five from Fayette. “Not bad! Even if you did have to bribe him with free food.”

“Oh, I don't see it so much as a bribe as a treaty. I had to say some things he didn't want to hear, and the food made it easier for him to listen, that's all.”

“Well, I'm impressed, anyway. I don't know why you're worried about handling Matthew. You're a natural.”

Fayette's smile was sad. “The difference is, I don't care that much about Chet. It's pretty easy to say ‘my way or the highway' to him.”

She glanced out the window as Matthew scuffed across the parking lot. “Well, speak of my darling son and here he comes. I told him he has to come in here directly from school for the next two weeks, but with all the back talk I got . . . Well, I'm just glad he got here.”

Fayette forced cheerfulness as Matthew slumped in with his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Hey, honey, how was school?”

He glared at her without saying a word.

“Now you can take that back booth if you want, or you can go to my desk in the kitchen if you don't touch anything on it. I'll bring you something to drink.”

Matthew gave Fayette a look that would curl paint and shoved his way through the kitchen door.

Lainie smiled in sympathy. “Want me to take care of this?”

“Please. One more mouthful of attitude from him, and I'm liable to boot him out that back door—which is exactly what he wants me to do.”

Lainie walked into the kitchen where Matthew was pulling books and notebooks out of his backpack and slamming them down on an old desk already crowded with ledgers and invoices.

“Hey, Matt. Need a cola or something?”

He didn't look at her. “What I need is for you guys to get out of my face.”

“Just asking.” Lainie turned to leave, but Matthew called after her.

“Wait. You can bring me a root beer, I guess.”

Lainie raised an eyebrow and left without saying a word. When she returned a few minutes later with a cold drink and a straw, Matthew ignored her. Lainie stood by his chair holding his drink until he looked up. “What?”

“I'm not your servant, dude. And I'm not your mother either. If you want this drink you're going to have to ask for it. And I want to hear a ‘please.'”

Matthew curled his lip. “Keep it.”

“You got it.” In one smooth move, Lainie dumped the drink down the drain and set the glass in the sink. Without looking back, she pushed through the swinging door back into the dining room.

Fayette looked up from cutting a piece of coconut cream pie. “How's he doing?”

Lainie shrugged. “He's being a jerk. But that comes with being a kid, I guess. I mean, I never had one, but I sure remember being one.”

“A jerk?” Fayette scowled and headed toward the kitchen. “Was he rude to you? He better not have been. That's one thing I will not put up with.”