Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(51)
Author: Brenda Novak

“What do you mean?”

She seemed reluctant to answer, but when he cocked an eyebrow as if demanding she explain, she continued. “We got a note once, not too long after we buried Cody.”

He sat up straighter. He’d never heard this before. “From who?”

“No idea. It was anonymous.”

“What’d it say?”

She seemed to want to tell him. The words, whatever they were going to be, almost came out. But his father walked through the front door at that moment.

“Hey,” he called out, “don’t tell me my son has actually deigned to visit his old man.”

“Mom?” Noah whispered, prompting her before Brent could reach the kitchen.

She sent a furtive glance over his head. They had a minute or two while his father put away his clubs, but that didn’t seem to matter. “It was nothing,” she said. “Just…one of those things like a…a crank call where someone tries to torment a bereaved family.”

“Someone tried to torment us? With what? And who would do such a thing?” No one had ever mistreated him or Cody. His parents, either, as far as he knew. His father didn’t have any political enemies. He was probably the most popular mayor the town had ever had. He hadn’t been mayor back then, anyway.

“It was nothing,” she said again. “I don’t want to upset your father by bringing up the past. So don’t tell him I mentioned it, okay?”

He didn’t get the chance to answer. She turned back to her cooking, as if they hadn’t been discussing anything important, the second Brent walked into the room.

17

The next few days weren’t easy, despite the fact that Addy didn’t have to face any of the men she wanted to avoid. She got up and went to the restaurant Monday morning, as planned. She did the same on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and worked late each night. There were a lot of things she saw there that she wanted to change. At odd moments, when she looked at the surroundings she’d loved growing up, she even felt a sense of creative excitement. After everything she’d learned in culinary school and working for the Kingsdales, she could do so much to update and improve the restaurant.

But Luanne had known what she was talking about when she tried to warn Addy that there might be trouble with Darlene. Gran’s manager wasn’t overtly unfriendly, but she couldn’t quite hide her resentment. She liked having free rein over the restaurant, didn’t want Addy to question any of her policies or curtail her authority, especially since Addy had been little more than a child when she’d worked here before. Maybe Darlene had guessed that Addy wanted to get the restaurant ready to sell, because she was acting so proprietary, and that only made things harder.

Addy couldn’t stop thinking about Noah, even though she hadn’t seen or heard from him since their night together. She still felt anxious leaving the house for fear of running into Kevin, Tom, Derek or Stephen. And, on Thursday, Gran came down with such a bad cold that she couldn’t get out of bed. Addy was worried that the infection would turn into pneumonia. On top of that, Darlene had chosen Thursday—just called at the last minute—to take a personal day, which made Addy angry. Gran’s manager had implied that her absence was a direct result of feeling as if she had someone looking over her shoulder all the time. No doubt she hoped Addy wouldn’t like bearing a hundred percent of the responsibility for the restaurant—that she’d give up and leave.

But Addy wasn’t about to let Darlene win the power struggle between them. Whether Darlene wanted to acknowledge it or not, she didn’t own the place. She wasn’t even doing such a great job of managing it. Since she’d taken over, the restaurant was making less money than before. For one thing, they needed to raise their prices to keep up with the cost of food. It’d been a decade or more since Gran had overhauled the menu….

Addy was pondering that change, and musing over her idea of adding some organic options, when a voice—far more familiar than she would’ve expected after so many years—sent chills down her spine.

“We’ll sit over here in the corner, if that’s okay. And if you can tell her we’d like a word, that would be great.”

Leaving her post at the back desk, Addy went to peek over the saloon-type doors leading into the dining area. Derek Rodriguez was strolling across the restaurant. Noelle Arnold, who’d gone back to her maiden name, was with him. When Addy noticed Luanne coming toward the kitchen, she knew without having to be told that she was the person they’d asked for.

“He has some nerve,” she mumbled. Addy had been thinking a lot about what Derek had asked Noelle to pass on. What was that business about having her pose almost-naked in a baseball uniform? A cruel joke? A veiled threat? Maybe he was taunting her about the fact that he’d gotten away with what he’d done. It was even possible he thought she’d welcome the reminder. She’d learned in her counseling sessions that some ra**sts justified their actions by convincing themselves that their victims asked for what they got, or at least enjoyed it.

The crazy thing was that Derek hadn’t seemed like a bad kid when he was a teenager. None of them had seemed like bad kids. They were the popular crowd, the boys most likely to succeed—not be brought up on sexual assault charges.

Luanne touched her arm. “Did you hear me?”

Addy stared at her, drawing herself out of the past. “You said Derek and Noelle want to say hello.”

Pausing as she slipped her order pad into the pocket of her apron, Luanne gave her a funny look. “That’s right.”

Suddenly, she was grateful Darlene wasn’t around. One battle at a time, she told herself, and proceeded into the dining room. She regretted giving Kevin the pleasure of seeing how deeply he affected her and didn’t plan to make the same mistake with Derek. The only way to maintain some power in this situation was to pretend she’d gotten over the incident completely.

She needed to take charge and stop being a victim—as much as that was possible.

“Hi, Noelle.” She forced a smile for Olivia’s sister as she came up to the table. Then she turned to Derek. “And you are…”

His eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you remember me?”

She adopted a baffled expression as Luanne brought some water. “I’m afraid not.”

“Derek. Derek Rodriguez. I used to play on the baseball team.”

“He’s the one who bought you the necklace I dropped off after that terrible experience you had in the mine,” Noelle volunteered.