Page 12 of Hannah's Truth

Undercover work didn’t result in the butterflies floating about in her belly or that warm sensual tug she felt as she watched him move through the kitchen.

“Go on and have a seat. I’ll bring it out to you.”

“I can’t eat in here?” It was a clingy thing to ask, but she couldn’t take it back now. Thank heaven Maria walked in.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She rushed over to give Hannah a warm hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy, but good.”

“You look tired,” Maria accused, leaning back to study Hannah. “Don’t tell me you’ve been too busy to eat.”

Hannah fought the ridiculous urge to lean on the older woman’s shoulder and unburden herself as she might with her mother. “I’m taking care, I promise. It’s just been a long few days.”

“Hmm.” Maria nodded as Bart slid a plate of the warm, gooey casserole across the stainless steel prep table. “You were keeping that one in the back.”

“For my favorite people,” Bart said with a wink.

The rich scents of butter and maple syrup teased her nose and Hannah wanted to devour it in one bite.

“I’ve called everyone like you asked,” Maria said to Bart. “My goodness, didn’t your mother teach you any manners, Bart? It’s not healthy to eat standing up.” She snatched the plate away and carried it out to a booth in the dining room.

“It was my idea to eat in the kitchen,” Hannah defended, following Maria and the casserole her stomach was clamoring for now.

“Well, this is better.” Maria set the plate on the tabletop. “You go ahead and eat while we talk. Sit.” She planted her hands on her hips and shifted a stern gaze between the two of them until Hannah obeyed and Bart slid into the booth next to her.

The feeling of his large body beside her was as warm and delicious as the casserole she wanted to eat. For six weeks she’d missed this unspoken connection with her friend, a man she respected and admired. The circumstances sucked, but she’d learned long ago to appreciate the good moments when they happened.

“I figured you’d want to close the diner for at least today and tomorrow,” Maria said.

“You’ll be compensated,” Bart replied.

“Please. That’s not why we’re talking and you know it.”

“Then what is this about?”

“I don’t think closing is a good idea. Reduced hours maybe, but not a complete shut down.”

Bart snorted. “Are you volunteering to do the cooking?”

“I could.” Maria rolled her shoulders back and raised her chin. “But we both know I’m better with the customers than you. If you run a short menu you could manage breakfast and maybe lunch.”

“I saw Tim’s recipes pinned to the bulletin board,” Hannah said.

Bart ignored her. “Why are you pushing this?”

Maria folded her hands on the table. “Because when something like this happens, keeping to a normal, healthy schedule is often the best way forward. I’d think with your military experience you’d know that.”

Hannah watched the interaction, more than a little amused by Maria’s brusque dealings with Bart. The waitress had a valid point. “Can I interject?”

“Oh, sure. Go ahead and pile on,” Bart said, leaning back in the booth and scowling at the view on the other side of the window.

“I think she’s right.” Hannah took a moment to drag her fork through the sweet, sticky sauce on her plate. “Staying busy is a good idea for everyone.”

“You just want more casserole.”

“Maybe.” She aimed a smile his way and batted her lashes until his scowl eased a fraction. “In my line of work, a body dumped on a doorstep is a serious kind of message. You’d be sending the killer an equally strong message by showing that you aren’t rattled.” It was as much as she dared to say in front of Maria.

“Assuming the killer stuck around to watch the fallout.”

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