Page 29 of A Package Deal

“Good. Nelie had an accident,” Piper said, and his eyes jerked to Nelie’s. She made a sighing-growling noise he would have found amusing coming from anyone else. He hoped it was nothing more than a small fender bender, and that Ava hadn’t conned Nelie into letting her sit up front.

“You weren’t supposed to say anything,” Ava said through gritted teeth.

“We didn’t pinky swear on it.” Piper shrugged and looked up at him. “You should kiss it better. There was lots of blood.” Chet didn’t like the idea of blood, but he’d take blood over a serious car accident any day.

“Way to sell it, kiddo.” He smiled, tugging Piper’s ponytail, and looked at Nelie, who was busy looking everywhere but at him.

“What happened?” he asked, disentangling himself from Piper—she was grippier than an octopus when she wanted to be.

“You know that phrase, no good deed goes unpunished?” She bit her lip, looking unsure and embarrassed.

“Yeah?” He stepped toward her. Nelie held up her blood-soaked, gauze-covered middle finger.

“This is my punishment.” Chet noticed a bandage on an adjacent finger, too.

“Ouch.” He winced and sucked in a breath. “It’s still bleeding. Ava, get the first aid kit,” he said, forcing calm into his voice, but Nelie held Ava back with her good hand. “Do you need stitches?”

“No, just patience. And pressure.” He grabbed a clean kitchen towel and placed it over the gauze. He’d hold it there until the bleeding stopped and, when it slowed, he’d send Ava for the first aid kit, again. But this time, he wouldn’t let Nelie stop her. The cut needed attention. With one hand on the towel and the other behind her back, he gently pulled Nelie to him. She went easily, erasing Chet’s earlier concern about her lackluster welcome.

“And what was your good deed?” he asked.

“It wasn’t so much a good deed as a lack of attention. I know better, and this was the universe’s way of once again reminding me to pay attention when I’m handling knives.” She sounded annoyed and acted edgy and nervous in his arms. Chet’s earlier concern came back tenfold. Nelie was usually relaxed in his kitchen, like it was her happy place. But when he opened his mouth, the oven timer beeped, and she pulled away, telling the girls to set the table. “But don’t set one for me.”

“You’re not staying?”

“Something came up at work.” She shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

“But Monday is your day off,” he argued, hoping he didn’t sound desperate. He missed her and he’d looked forward to spending time with her all day. She was the only reason Mondays were good.

“Yeah, well, sometimes life throws a curve ball and you just need to roll with it, you know?” Nelie sounded bitter. The only bitter he thought she knew about was the chocolate-type.What the hell is going on?

“Sure, no problem,” he said, following her to the oven. With her good hand, she grabbed a thick towel and pulled a sheet pan out of the oven—sliced chicken, onions, and peppers. “But you’ll have to make it up to me, with interest.” He waggled his brows, hoping for a laugh, but she nudged him to the side, setting the pan on top of the stove.

“There’s grated cheese and flour tortillas in the fridge. You can heat them up in the microwave,” she said to the pan, grabbing a pepper slice. Nelie blew on it and popped it into her mouth. She frowned. Chet didn’t like the defeated look in her eyes. “You’ll need to grab the salsa at the back of your fridge,” her voice sounded tight and when she looked at him, her eyes were watery. “I forgot the fajita seasoning.”

“Rough day in the kitchen, huh?” He pulled her in for a hug, and after a few breaths she softened against him, but then hardened, as if realizing what she’d done.

“I should get going.” She patted his chest. “I might be a carrier for what’s going around and I don’t want to get you sick.” He wondered if Nelie knew what a terrible liar she was.

“Sure.” What else could he say? He couldn’t hold her captive and force her to tell him what was wrong. Instead, he kissed her forehead. “Call me later.” Nelie nodded as she pulled on her jacket, but Chet knew in his gut she wouldn’t call. “And get a decent bandage on that cut,” he called as she walked out the door.

Wow,she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. He thought they’d reached the point where they could share their concerns and burdens. But maybe only he’d reached that point. Something was obviously weighing on her, but she wouldn’t share it. Not even when he’d pressed her. He couldn’t help if she wouldn’t share.

Maybe there’s another way?he thought, eyeing the girls as they grabbed the rest of the dinner items. He could use his investigative skills on his two informants over dinner to get to the bottom of the story. “I’m starved. Let’s eat!”

“Howareyoufeeling?”Chet asked Nelie when she finally called him back. Seventy-two hours later than he’d hoped, and he still didn’t know what was wrong. Either Nelie was a better actor around the girls, his daughters were clueless—a distinct possibility with their newfound tween-ness—or they’d pinky-sworn to keep whatever was bothering her a secret. He’d learned nothing from his casual and carefully worded questions on Monday.

Earlier today, Nelie had texted him and told him she’d drop the girls off at the newspaper. She had, and she’d waited in her car until they were in the building. By the time Chet extricated himself from Piper’s hug and stepped outside, the only sign of Nelie was her taillights as she’d pulled out of the parking lot.

“Not great. Headache and stomachache,” she said.

“But not stuffy?” he asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. He was concerned about her health, but he really wanted to know where her head and heart were at. Why she wasn’t acting like herself.

“No.”At least she didn’t lie about that.Nelie’s voice sounded normal, but flat. He missed her lightly lilting tone and gentle teasing.

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Breakfast, and some crackers mid-afternoon.”

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