Baby, Don't Go Page 19

  Alicia forged ahead. “The good news is she decided to leave him.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “She decided to take the evidence with her.”

  His eyes widened. “She stole his inventory?”

  Alicia closed her eyes briefly, then nodded. “She planned to turn it over to the police, but she got here the day of the fire, and the suitcase was lost in the confusion—”

  “There’s a suitcase of narcotics floating around town?” He didn’t bother hiding his alarm.

  She put out her hand. “No. We found the suitcase, and everything was…intact. My mother’s lawyer is coordinating a deal to surrender the drugs to the Fulton County D.A.”

  “So she won’t be charged with anything?”

  “That’s the idea.” Alicia shook her head. “You saw my mother—she’s not a drug dealer. She just…makes poor decisions where men are concerned.”

  He didn’t comment, although he couldn’t help but think of his sweet, selfless mother, who lived for the happiness of her family. Emily Armstrong hadn’t looked at another man since their father had passed, and would never be mixed up with any kind of criminal element. He felt a pang for Alicia; she’d probably had to deal with her mother’s poor decisions her entire life.

  No wonder the woman didn’t want anything to do with marriage.

  “Anyway,” Alicia continued, her voice artificially bright, “the reason I’m telling you is because, one, I thought you should know about the suitcase full of drugs in the closet of my room, and two, although his low I.Q. makes it unlikely, it’s possible that Candace’s boyfriend could follow her here looking for his drugs.” She exhaled, visibly drained.

  Marcus made a rueful noise. “So that’s why you asked about law enforcement?”

  She nodded. “Look, Marcus—this isn’t your problem, and you have enough on your plate at the moment. If you prefer that my mother just leave and wait somewhere else while the deal is being worked out, I understand.”

  It would certainly be the easier thing to do, he conceded…except when he looked into Alicia’s big brown eyes and saw the pain there. And then there was only one choice.

  He crossed his arms, already formulating a plan to pull the men from his crew who had been military police during their time of service. “First of all, your mother is welcome to store the suitcase in a safe at the city hall building until the authorities arrive. And second—there’s only one way in, and one way out of Sweetness. If you get me the name and description of this guy and what he might be driving, I promise you, he won’t get anywhere close to your mother.”

  The smile that lit her beautiful face would’ve been enough of a thank-you, but when Alicia threw her arms around him to plant a kiss on his mouth, it was an overindulgence that threatened to undo him. His senses reeled. He curled his arm around her waist and pulled her between his legs, wedging her body up next to his.

  Her mouth was soft and warm, and the kiss was sweet and thorough. He wanted to while away the rest of the day…the rest of his life…kissing her until she gasped for breath.

  Suddenly she pulled her mouth away, covering her lips with her fingers. “I…should go.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, but I should let you get back to your deadline.”

  He nodded and pushed to his feet, still trying to catch his own breath.

  She walked toward the door. “About the deadline—do you think you’re going to meet it?”

  It was a simple question—one that people had been asking him for weeks. But at that moment, all the pressure he’d been feeling over the past two years seemed to coalesce, squeezing his chest like a vise. He wet his lips. “Honestly…no, I’m not sure we’re going to make it.”

  There…he’d said it.

  Alicia tilted her head, her gaze intent. “Of course you’re going to make it. You haven’t come this far for things to unravel at the end. Marcus, you do realize, don’t you, that people believe in you, not out of blind faith, but because you’re probably the only man alive who could pull this off?”

  Her words bolstered him, but he was feeling so shot through with emotion, he didn’t trust his voice.

  She smiled wide. “Just remember, you’re not in this alone. These people will do anything you ask of them.”

  He nodded, suddenly feeling very raw.

  Her dark eyes grew soft. “Thank you again, Marcus, for your help.”

  The way she looked at him made him feel powerful and weak at the same time. “Like I said before, I want everyone here to feel safe.”

  “I do.” Then she opened the door and was gone.

  Marcus stared after her, already wanting her back, but newly restored by her faith in him. He reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and withdrew another treasure—Alicia’s bracelet. He knew he should return it, and he would. But for now, he liked having a piece of her with him.

  And with the deadline barreling toward him like a runaway freight train, he needed all the good-luck charms he could get.

  Alicia paced in a deserted spot outside the diner, her phone to her ear. “Nina, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

  “Alicia, talk to me. What brought this on?”

  She stopped and put a hand to her forehead, loath to reveal how her mother’s sordid personal life had spilled over into the assignment. Tears pushed at the back of her eyes. “It just doesn’t feel right. I don’t think there’s anything nefarious afoot in this town. There’s no story.”

  “So maybe it’s more of an observation piece than an exposé.”

  “But it feels…underhanded.” Especially in light of what Marcus was doing for her mother. Guilt pummeled her.

  Nina sighed. “Alicia, this is bigger than just you now. The syndication deal has already been signed, and the deal was based on the material you submitted. You made commitments—we all did.”

  Alicia closed her eyes. “You’re right. I guess I’m getting too close to the story.”

  “And to Marcus Armstrong?”

  “No, that’s not it.” But her voice wobbled.

  “It’s okay to become emotionally attached to the people of Sweetness, as long as you remember why you’re there. Are we clear?”

  Alicia drew in a deep, cleansing breath, then released it. “Yes.”

  “Good. But don’t worry. You’re doing those people a big favor. If this blog series takes off like I think it’s going to, it’ll put that little town on the map. People will be flocking to Sweetness for months to come.”

  Alicia bit her lip. That was all well and good…assuming Sweetness was still around in a few months’ time.

  27

  As the days leading up to Homecoming weekend ticked down, Alicia managed to push aside thoughts of her mother’s legal drama by dividing her spare time between writing and pitching in to do whatever she could to help with preparations.

  She marveled that she could be so calm about a potentially explosive situation. Under normal circumstances, she’d be a nervous wreck, trying to fix everything herself and fretting over the outcome. She’d never allowed herself to rely on others because when she had, she’d always been disappointed. But Marcus Armstrong made her feel safe and protected.

  It was a new experience for her, this trusting business.

  And while she had no doubt that if Bo Dixon showed up in Sweetness, he would be quietly dealt with and held until the authorities arrived, she also knew her request couldn’t have come at a worse time, when countless strangers would be arriving to take part in Homecoming activities.

  She was keenly aware that his offer to help had cost Marcus precious resources at a time when he most needed them. Feeling indebted to him, Alicia was determined the diner would be a hub for get-togethers during Homecoming activities. She decorated with posters and streamers and balloons, strung lights in the trees over the outside seating area, and added a bulletin board for customer pictures that Clancey took on his digital camera. The new name of the diner had been cho
sen from all the entries and a painter was creating a new sign in utmost secret, to be unveiled Saturday. The ceremony had even been granted a spot on the official Homecoming schedule, right after the artists’ market on Main Street ended and before the country music show at the school athletic field began.

  Residents and visitors seemed happy and energetic, and Alicia found the nervous excitement contagious. She actually forgot about the miserable heat, the relentless insects and the extreme pollen count.

  Conversely, Candace was tense and tearfully apologetic about the mess she’d made and spent the days mostly confined to their bedroom, working on her jewelry designs. When Alicia experienced bouts of resentment toward her mother for involving her and nearly jeopardizing her assignment—not to mention the safety of the town—she reminded herself that Candace was doing a brave thing by testifying against Bo, something the old Candace wouldn’t have done.

  And Alicia was tolerant because she knew that being forced to ask her ex-husband for help had been a pride-swallowing experience for Candace. Alicia noticed how her mother’s voice changed when she talked to him—it was clear to her that Candace still loved him, and Alicia was grateful that her father would do this for her mother, especially when he was supposed to be planning his upcoming nuptials. Robert Randall had flown to Atlanta and was still there, working out details with the District Attorney’s office. A bench warrant had been issued for Bo’s arrest, and Alicia hoped to hear soon that the odious man had been put behind bars.

  With Homecoming activities set to begin in less than twenty-four hours, there was more activity than normal when she walked across the street to open the diner for the day. When she got to the door, she smiled to see that Tony was waiting for her. “You’re an early bird this morning.”

  But to her dismay, his face crumpled and his Armstrong-blue eyes filled with tears. “I have to tell you something.”

  Alarm spiked through her. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

  “You’re going to be mad.”

  “Maybe,” she admitted. “But whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  “The fire…it was my fault.” He choked back a sob.

  Her eyebrows climbed. “How was it your fault?”

  He looked tormented. “Jason had cigarettes, and we were s-smoking in the bathroom.”

  Jason was one of the other busboys.

  “I didn’t like it, though, and when I came out, I got rid of the cigarette by dropping it into the p-paper recycle bin.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Miss Alicia. I should’ve said something, but I was so s-scared.”

  Alicia’s heart went out to the boy—he was trying to make things right. “Who else knows about this?”

  He sniffed. “Nobody.”

  She smiled. “So how about we make this our little secret?”

  His eyes rounded. “You mean it?”

  She nodded. “The important thing is that everyone is okay, and it sounds like you learned a lesson.”

  He nodded his head vigorously. “No more smoking for me.”

  “Good,” she said with a wink. “Ready to get to work?”

  He nodded again, this time with a huge grin.

  By mid-morning, they were getting a taste of what the crowds might be like for the weekend. The diner was busy and raucous, and Alicia was happy to see that things were running smoothly. Clancey had been a rare find. His personality was electric, and his food elevated the menu past the standard diner fare. In fact, he’d gotten a tip from a chef friend that the food critic for the Atlanta newspaper was planning to drop in to review the diner, which would be a major coup.

  Just after lunch, the door opened and a plump, smiling woman with graying hair came in, flanked by Marcus. Just the sight of him sent Alicia’s pulse racing, and a flush climbing her neck. Her curiosity piqued, Alicia watched as he steered the woman toward an empty table. After she was settled, he turned and headed in her direction, his handsome face lined with fatigue—and purpose.

  “Did something happen?” she asked without preamble.

  “Dixon was picked up an hour ago driving into town.”

  Her throat convulsed. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No. He was wasted. The idiot could’ve hurt someone, but he was easy to subdue. He’s in the jail, sleeping it off. I contacted the Atlanta P.D. and let them know we have a person who has a bench warrant against him. Hopefully they’ll get here before he wakes up. But I thought you’d want to let your mother know.”

  Alicia’s eyes filled with grateful tears. “How can I thank you?”

  He smiled. “You can come say hello to my mother.”

  Pleasure coursed through her. “Okay.”

  As they approached the table where his mother was seated, it was easy to see where the Armstrong boys had inherited their deep blue eyes—the woman’s friendly but shrewd gaze passed over Alicia, missing nothing. Even as Alicia told herself the woman’s impression of her shouldn’t matter—they would likely never meet again—she felt self-conscious of her casual clothing and the low pigtails she’d grown accustomed to wearing. She longed for her own clothes that were in a suitcase in the trunk of the rental car, and for her ceramic flat-iron.

  “Mother,” Marcus said, “this is Alicia Waters. She manages the diner. Alicia, this is Emily Armstrong, my mother.”

  “Hello.” Alicia extended her hand and was surprised at the firm grip she received in return.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Emily said, inclining her head.

  Alicia liked her instantly—she was feisty. “Are you here for the weekend festivities?”

  “I’m moving back to Sweetness,” Emily said. “To spend time with my sons and their families.”

  Alicia smiled. “That sounds lovely.” And it did.

  Marcus excused himself to speak with one of his foremen, who was taking a late lunch. Alicia watched him walk away, panicked at being left alone with his mother, but Emily picked up the conversation thread.

  “Do you have family around?”

  Alicia squirmed. “My mother is visiting, actually.”

  “How nice. I hope I get to meet her.”

  She nodded politely, thinking the woman probably wouldn’t feel the same if she knew about Candace’s brush with the law. “You must be so proud of your son, Mrs. Armstrong.”

  “Call me Emily. And yes, I’m proud of all my sons.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “But the firstborn is always special. Of the three boys, Marcus is the most like his father. He looks and acts the strongest, but deep down he’s the most vulnerable. Please be careful with his heart, my dear.”

  Alicia blinked. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you have the wrong idea about me and Marcus.”

  Emily smiled. “Alicia, do you know how many women my son Marcus has introduced to me?”

  Alicia shook her head.

  “One.”

  While Alicia digested that surprising bit of information, Marcus returned with three people in tow—a couple who looked to be in their early thirties, and an older gentleman whose resemblance to the son indicated they were related.

  “Mother,” Marcus said, “look who just arrived.”

  Emily Armstrong gasped. “Cletis!” She jumped to her feet and embraced the older man, who seemed equally pleased to see her.

  “You sure look fine, Emily.”

  Alicia started to edge away, but Marcus looked her way. “Alicia, this is Emory Maxwell and Dr. Cletis Maxwell—they used to live next to us on Clover Ridge. And this is Emory’s wife, Shelby. Shelby used to live in Sweetness, too. Everyone, this is Alicia Waters—she manages the diner.”

  She exchanged hellos with everyone.

  “Emory is our resident hero,” Marcus said, clapping the dark-haired man on the shoulder. “He was the one who spotted the tornado and sounded the alarm from the water tower.”

  Emory blushed. “Anyone else would’ve done the same.”

  “But you were the one who did,” Shelby said, clearly still proud of her husband.
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  “I understand you’re renewing your wedding vows tomorrow in the church,” Alicia offered.

  “That’s right,” Emory said, patting Shelby’s hand. Then he looked at Marcus. “Assuming the church is ready. The last time I talked to Porter, he seemed a little stressed about it.”

  Marcus grinned. “I think he’s stressed about something else. The church is ready, although the paint might still be drying.”

  Emory shook his head. “Man, I can’t believe what you’ve managed to achieve. We’ve been monitoring everything on the website, but we didn’t know what to expect.”

  “It’s a far cry from what we left,” Shelby added.

  Dr. Maxwell nodded. “Total destruction. I agree with Emory—what you’ve done here, Marcus, is nothing less than amazing.”

  She could tell Marcus was uncomfortable with the praise. “This has been a team effort…and we’re not in the clear yet.”

  “When is the deadline for the federal grant?”

  “The official date is next week,” Marcus said. “But the inspectors are coming sometime this weekend to observe.”

  “And what’s left to be done?” Emory asked.

  “Ten thousand little things,” Marcus said. “All we can do is cross our fingers that we haven’t skipped something the D.O.E. team thinks is essential.”

  “I’m sure the inspectors will give you high marks on everything,” Emily said, beaming. “Then Sweetness will once again belong to its people.”

  Everyone chorused agreement and launched into small talk, but Alicia could tell that Emily’s words had caused a shadow to cross Marcus’s eyes. He was already under an incredible amount of pressure—knowing that he might disappoint his mother, though, undoubtedly took that pressure to a whole new level.

  Feeling like an outsider, Alicia excused herself to get back to work. Marcus smiled at her and gave her a little nod, as if she’d passed some kind of test. She returned to the counter, her heart clicking in her chest…and feeling like a total fraud. While it gave her a little thrill that Marcus had thought enough of her to introduce her to his mother, he’d thought he was introducing his mother to Alicia Waters, pigtailed manager of the small-town diner.