Page 22 of More Than Nothing
“Mrs. Alberty.” He approached the women with an easy stride, offering the hand free of cotton candy to the older of the two. “Roman Martinez—I’m the new police chief.”
Mrs. Alberty nodded grandly. “Hello, Chief Martinez. This is my daughter, Josephine.”
“Yes, we’ve already met.” Still holding Mrs. Alberty’s hand, Roman’s eyes dropped to her wrist and the familiar bracelet draped around it. “What a coincidence that we should bump into each other when I was just talking to Elenie.” He turned to beckon her forward. “This is the kind lady from the diner who handed in your bracelet. I don’t know if you were aware of that?” Elfrida’s cheeks hollowed as if she were sucking a lemon. Josephine’s eyes darted from her mother to Roman and back again. “She came straight from Diner 43 to the station,” he continued with a hard smile, “and gave me a list of everyone she could remember seeing. I can only imagine how grateful you must feel to have your jewelry back, safe and sound. All because of Elenie here.” He held her eye and waited, folding his arms across his chest.
There was a long pause as various expressions warred with one another on Elfrida’s face. None of them were gratitude.
“Yes, indeed,” she said finally. “That was most kind. Thank you.”
The stupid woman still regarded Elenie with the same look she would give a maggot in her meatloaf, but she inclined her head stiffly and Roman decided to let it go.
“You’re very welcome.” Elenie’s voice sounded strangled.
“Enjoy the fair!” Roman called after the Albertys as they bustled away.
“Wow.” A small smile quirked the corner of Elenie’s lips. “You played her like a two-bit fiddle, Chief Martinez. Great job.”
The cotton candy was long gone, replaced by paper-wrapped soft pretzels, salty and still warm to the touch. Legs extended, they leaned up against a tree. Shadows were just beginning to stretch across the park, but the area around them was flooded with more people rather than less. It shocked Roman that the last hour had passed so quickly.
“Pennsylvania produces the most pretzels in the US. They eat the most, too. And there’s even a National Pretzel Day each year on 26 April.” Elenie licked a salt flake from the corner of her mouth.
“And you know that how?” He dragged his gaze away from her lips.
She shrugged. “I read a lot, I look stuff up and I have a good memory. One day I’ll use it for more than food orders and takeout requests.”
Roman frowned, studying her long enough that Elenie colored and tore off another piece of pretzel. She was an unusual combination of interesting and different, but he could not afford to like someone with Elenie Dax’s background. That was so far past messy, it ventured into potential chaos. He was trying to get his life back on track, not derail it altogether. He pulled his professional reserve around him like a cloak and heard its echo in his voice.
“That kind of recall could be helpful if there was anything you wanted to tell me about your stepdad’s business. Or even about Millie Westlake.”
Elenie went as still as a wood frog in winter. Her fingers tightened around the remains of the pretzel, her hand poised on one bent knee.
“You give me the impression that you want more for yourself than a life of petty crime.” Roman pushed a little harder. “Can’t be easy living with a man like Frank Dax. Why do you do it, Elenie? Why don’t you leave?”
He watched her throat bob around a ragged swallow. She wiped her hand across her mouth. Carousel and folk music blended with the sounds of tractors and trucks. Happy screams came from the direction of the Ferris wheel, and the scent of dozens of different foods melded in the air. And Elenie Dax gradually withdrew from him until all the gentle animation had left her face.
Roman felt its loss with a sharp edge he didn’t like to examine.
“They still give a prize for the town’s largest pig,” she told him eventually. “I think I’ll go check it out.” She screwed up the pretzel paper in her hand and climbed to her feet, looking around for the nearest trash can. “Thanks for a nice afternoon, Chief Martinez.”
He sat on the ground for a full ten minutes after Elenie cut through the throng of people standing in line for bumper cars and disappeared out of sight. Somehow, she took all the pleasure of the fair with her.
Chapter 11
Elenie
Elenie made herself a cup of coffee in the tiny, grubby kitchen, rinsing the mug before she used it because she shared the house with animals.
The day stretched out before her. Maybe she should grab her library book and take the long walk down to Weller’s Lake. She could escape and read and chill for the afternoon. And keep her mind right away from dark eyes or corded forearms.
It’d been so easy to forget who she was at the fair. Dazzled by the attention of Roman Martinez, his support of her to Mrs. Alberty, the easy conversation, the sexy damn heat of his closeness, she’d let herself get swept away. As if he actually wanted to spend time with her. As if he hadn’t tracked her down because of who she was. She knew better, dammit. It was embarrassing how much his change of tack had blindsided her. Elenie still felt the mortification through to her bones.
The volume of her unruly thoughts drowned out Frank’s footsteps in the hall. His sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway startled her, and Elenie’s coffee slopped until she steadied her hand.
“Clumsy!” she murmured, giving him a half-smile and reaching for a cloth.
The force of the backhand across her face split Elenie’s lip, coming from nowhere as it did. Her head whipped to the side; white-hot pain bloomed from her cheekbone. Scalding coffee spilled over her hand and her wrist, the mug shattering against the kitchen counter. Her forehead smacked the edge of the fridge as her legs gave out beneath her. Stupid with incomprehension, she lay in a crumbled heap, half leaning against one of the cupboard doors at Frank’s feet, brain scrambled.
His boot caught her in the side and her ribs screamed. Elenie curled into a ball to protect her poor, battered body. Blood from her mouth dripped onto the floor.
