“Are you lost?”
“Yes, Reed.”
“Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
His fingers brushed along Isla’s cheek. “I’ll come back.”
“You will.”
A trail of hope brightened his eyes. “I’m always with you.”
Isla drifted from her sleep-deprived hallucination. She sipped the bitter coffee and leaned against the wood-paneled wall of Meg’s Café, fighting back her sadness. No one ever bothered her, and the waitresses sat her in the back. The cook’s potato and corn casserole was crack in Pyrex.
The prattle of small-town gossip and clanks of silverware faded. A yellowish water stain in the shape of an elephant occupied one of the ceiling tiles.
She stared at the discolored pachyderm. Isla had problems. Big problems.
Joe — bless his heart — thought he’d found the perfect hiding place. Determined, Isla located him with time to spare. Joe settled in middle-of-nowhere, Alabama. She’d frequented the town, knowing he was close. One of the waitresses recognized a photo of him. Lucky for her, he was a lousy tipper, and Isla wasn’t. Within a few days, she was a welcomed stranger.
The rusted silver bell chimed above the café door. Isla turned her attention away from the ceiling. Her lips stiffened as Joe reached inside of his suit coat and pulled out a white handkerchief. He wiped his hands and scanned the room for an open table.
At first, he didn’t notice her tucked back into the corner, but when he did, Joe tried to leave. Keyword tried. Two lovely gentlemen Isla befriended her first day in town blocked him. He protested, but the men escorted him to her table. She insisted on him joining her. Glancing around for someone to help him, he finally sat down across from her.
The waitress approached, asked if he would like coffee. He did with a scowl. Isla requested another refill.
“Isla.”
“Joe, how nice to see you.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’d ask you the same question. What does a man like you do in a town like this? Harriet Township is a long ways away from New York. “
Joe raked his fingers through his oily hair. “None of your business.”
“You made it my business. How much did you pocket to kill Ellis? How much to set me up? How much to burn Pierce kingdom to the ground?”
Joe glanced over his shoulder. “Keep your voice down.”
“Fuck you. I should kill you right here for what you did.”
“I did nothing of the sort.”
The waitress with her pressed, white apron served Joe his coffee, pouring it into the ivory cup. She filled Isla’s to the brim and pulled her order pad out, but Joe waved her off. With a nod, she walked back behind the counter.
“Reed’s missing.” Isla took a breath. “Did Martin and Vinny form an alliance? Clearly, someone has paid off the medical examiner to keep the story under wraps. Be a man for once, and tell the truth. Is Reed dead?”
“Not that I know of.” He sipped the coffee. “What I do know is Amaranthine is up for grabs. Martin wants control. He knows who you are and what happened with Ronan Walker.”
Her stomach clenched into a fist. “You’re telling me he knows about Jules?”
“He knows everything.”
“He wants my shares. He wants it all. And, Zagotta — did he set us up for the massacre? My innocent daughter to be slaughtered . . .”
Joe coughed. “There’s another player.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He or she is a ghost pitting family against family. The trust has been wrecked. War is inevitable.”
Joe’s skin blanched, and he pulled at his collar.
Isla leaned closer to him. “You’re wrong. I’m the ghost in this machine. I’ve been quite busy these past few days and was taught to never waste an opportunity. To protect family no matter what.”
“What do you mean?” With labored breath, he looked down at the coffee cup. “You . . .”
“Dear Joe. You’re going into cardiac arrest. The odorless, flavorless poison that I laced your cup with won’t be detected. I’ve built quite a status here and donated much to rebuilding this working-class town, including a substantial endowment to our fine waitress, Lily, who you’ve stiffed on numerous occasions. Not nice, Joe.”
Isla lifted her mug toward the blonde behind the counter. The waitress winked and carried on filling the salt shakers. Isla sipped the lukewarm brew but watched Joe squirm across from her.
“You won’t” — he hacked and gripped his chest — “get away . . . killing me.”
“Oh, I will. One by one, the giants will fall. I don’t forget, and I don’t forgive. You’ve given me nothing to convince me to keep you alive. Aww, what will Martin and Vinny do without their little rat?”
His breath sputtered, and Isla watched with pleasure while Joe died in front of her.
With Ellis gone, it was time for a new uprising. In her heart, she knew Reed wasn’t amongst the dead. Call it denial, call it conviction, call it what a person will, but Isla wouldn’t give up on him.
Joe gasped, knocked his coffee cup off the table, and it shattered across the worn wood floor. All who sat in the café minded their own business. His head thudded onto the table. Coffee spilled over the edge of her cup. She pulled out her wallet and thumbed a few hundred-dollar bills and laid them near the edge.
“Don’t worry, Joe. I’ll pick up the tab.”
Isla instructed the waitress to clean up the coffee and call the police ten minutes after her departure. Lily thanked her again for all her financial help. She had five kids, a deceased husband, and no one to lean on. Isla set up college funds for each of the children. They deserved at least one easy step in life.
She slipped behind the wheel of the rental car. Isla coasted down the two-lane highway out of the township. Two police cruisers with their sirens blaring passed her. Nothing else mattered but Jules and Reed.