Page 294 of Love Bites

The host held my chair and waited for me to settle in before taking my drink request. Merlot sounded good. Fruity with a bite—kind of like Harvey. As I waited for my date and drink to arrive, preferring the latter first, and the former never, I studied each passerby on the street below. If Doc was down there, he’d hidden himself well.

The waiter stopped by to introduce himself and drop off my wine. He looked all of sixteen, in spite of his fat-Elvis sideburns, and tossed out several ‘ma’am’s as he told me about the evening’s specials. Had I not been wearing my only pair of Jimmy Choo heels, which were given to me three Christmases ago by my mother, I would have crammed my shoe down his acne-dotted throat for making me feel like an old maid.

Sipping on my wine, I searched the upper windows of the buildings across the street. Maybe Doc had decided to dine vicariously this time. Alas, no sight of him. I knocked my fan-shaped napkin over.

“I was worried you wouldn’t show up,” a man said in my ear.

I jumped, splashing red wine on the white table cloth.

“You look stunning, Violet.” He dropped into the seat opposite of me. “As usual.”

I gaped at him.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Blue looks even better on you than red.”

I finally heaved my jaw up off the floor. “Youare my secret admirer?”

“Surprised?”

If my nose broke off, landed in my glass of merlot, and blew out a stream of bubbles, I couldn’t be more shocked. “A little.”

“Good.” Benjamin Underhill, Ray’s nephew, chuckled. “I hate to disappoint.”

I gaped at him, noticing his eyes were different colors—one icy blue, the other light green. They’d both been blue in the picture on Jane’s desk. “But, I thought your eyes …”

“I wear a colored contact usually. It keeps people from staring.”

“Oh.” I gulped down a mouthful of merlot, staring, and debated on making a run for the hills. However, since I already lived in them, I forced my feet to stay planted and asked, “How do you know my daughter’s name?”

“Addy?” Her nickname rolled off his tongue way too easily for a mother’s comfort.

Our waiter, Elvis Jr., approached, holding an open bottle of merlot.

“She’s quite a sidewalk saleswoman. I bought some mittens for my niece’s kitten from her.”

“You did?” I frowned, then remembered Layne’s phone call about Addy selling stuff to the guy withweird eyes. I drained the rest of my wine, not sure if I should feel relieved or more frightened. Benjamin could be the kidnapper. If Ray knew, that would explain why he was collecting Missing Girl posters.

Benjamin nodded as the waiter filled his wineglass. “Along with some other pet paraphernalia.”

My wine glass clunked on the table, empty, ready for more. I waited until the waiter had refilled my glass and departed before asking, “Did Ray tell you where I live?”

“No, I followed you home one night.” He raised his glass for a toast. “Here’s to a long, successful partnership.”

I almost swallowed my tongue.

* * *

Saturday,July 21st

I whipped into the Deadwood library’s parking lot and parked next to Doc’s Camaro. Mid-morning sunshine ricocheted off his side mirror, making me squint behind my sunglasses. The lingering effects of last night’s wine throbbed with fresh zeal. After killing the engine, I dry-swallowed a couple of aspirins before shoving open my door.

I’d waited over an hour for Doc to show up at work, leaving nose prints all over his front window, sweating and pacing outside his door. Finally, I’d decided to hunt him down—Deadwood had only a handful of places to hide. After a quick run through the Rec Center, here I was; and here Doc was, too.

I climbed the library steps, my sandals flapping on the concrete. A musty smell rushed to greet me as I stepped through the door. Miss Plum looked up from behind her desk.

“Can I help you?” she asked as I strode past her toward the South Dakota room.

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