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Dovetail(57)

Author:Karen McQuestion

“Good.” He sat back. “Then it’s a date.”

The word date jarred her. She hoped he meant it as a general expression and not that their friendship, only in its infancy, had already progressed to something more. She was not ready for a romance and couldn’t imagine that she ever would be.

Before she could delve into it, Doris brought their sandwiches, setting them down with brisk efficiency and saying, “Here ya go. Eat up.”

“Thank you, Doris. You’re the best,” Joe said, but Doris had already left to greet some incoming customers. He turned his attention to Kathleen. “Do you suppose when Doris is sick, they just shut down the whole restaurant?”

“Doris is never sick,” she said. “She wouldn’t allow it.”

And just like that, the conversation was back on track, flowing as easily as if she were talking to her best friend from high school, the one she’d known since the first day of junior high. If Joe thought they had plans to go on a date, she’d deal with it later. Right now, they were having too much fun to complicate matters.

When there were only crumbs left on their plates, she remembered about the key. She took it out of her purse and slid it across the table. “I found this in a secret drawer in Alice’s hope chest. Do you have any idea what it’s for?”

Joe picked it up and examined it carefully before ruefully shaking his head. “Sorry.” His eyes met hers. “You found a secret drawer? Was there anything else in it?”

“Just the key.” She took it back and put it away. “If you come across something in the house that might fit the key, let me know. Otherwise, I’d like to hang on to it.”

“Of course. Whatever you want.” And then more seriously: “I’d love to see the secret drawer, if you don’t mind. I don’t remember noticing anything like that, and trust me, I spent a lot of time cleaning that chest. How did you come to find it?” Joe asked, taking a sip from his glass of water.

“The way the base of the chest was constructed reminded me of a photo I saw in one of my great-aunt’s antique reference books,” Kathleen said. “I noticed it when you first brought it in, but I didn’t quite put it together until later that night . . .” She found herself caught up in the telling, all the more because Joe listened intently, seemingly impressed by her ingenuity.

When she got to the part about discovering the fabric bag, she became distracted, her attention drawn to the window by the sight of a man standing on the sidewalk directly across the street from the restaurant. A single glance turned into a startled stare as the man on the opposite side of the street came into focus for her. He was facing her, wearing sunglasses, khaki shorts, a plain white T-shirt, and blue-and-white high-top Reeboks. A baseball cap was pulled low over his forehead, and he had a full beard, but his build, shoes, and stance were identical to Ricky’s. Even more chilling was the possessive way he stared at her. She knew that look.

Kathleen froze in midsentence.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, leaning over to cover her hand with his. “Kathleen?”

A white delivery truck, black smoke coming out of its tailpipe, drove by, blocking her view of the man. It went by in a flash, and once it was past, the man wasn’t there anymore. He’d simply vanished. She squinted, looking at the businesses on that side of the street. She couldn’t imagine where he might have gone.

“Kathleen? Are you okay?” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His voice broke the spell, and his touch calmed her pounding heart. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone I knew.”

“Out there? Where?” He craned his neck to look.

“Never mind. He’s not there anymore.” She forced a smile that she hoped was reassuring. “There’s no way it could have been him. There was a resemblance, that’s all. It caught me off guard.”

He let go of her hand but still looked concerned. “Has someone been bothering you at the store?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Doris interrupted the conversation, stopping to whisk away their plates in one swift motion. “You’ll be having pie, then?” she said, as if it were a given.

“Cherry for me, please,” Kathleen said, glad to let the discussion rest.

Joe said, “I’ll have banana cream.”

“And then we’ll have separate checks,” Kathleen added.

“Not a problem.”

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