Chapter 22

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The banging of pots and pans came from the kitchen of Vavoom's. Clara wiped down the last table. She'd expected to be dragging ass today after a sleepless night at Wayne's house after the break-in, but nervous energy kept her moving.

Gracie pulled the tray full of napkins, salt and pepper, Tabasco sauce, ketchup to the next table and set about filling the items. "We need to talk fast while Paxton is busy and Wayne is gone. Are you still thinking we should keep quiet to the police about who we suspect broke into the house?"

"It's the only thing we can do." Clara looked over her shoulder before moving closer to Gracie. "Nobody would believe us. Certainly, not the police. And if we told Lieutenant Gomez who we suspected, it would blow our chances at asking Notus to help us. They'd be obligated to inform the police. We need to wait. I have zero confidence that the police can catch him. They've had twenty-four years to find him, and they haven't."

"I agree." Gracie spilled the salt and picked up a rag to wipe the sprinkles off the table.

Clara pressed her hand on her lower back and arched her spine. "We need to be really careful, sis. The likelihood that it was him that broke into the house is rare...like winning the Lottery rare. But he took the picture of mom. We can't ignore that."

Gracie raised her brows. "Believe me, I'm not. I just don't understand. Did mom's murderer have a sick obsession with her? Maybe it wasn't a random crime. And, how would he know we're her daughters? Nobody knew us here before we moved back. We were so young when Dad moved us away."

"If it was him, this is scary." Clara leaned closer. "Maybe we're paranoid."

"I just don't want to be stupid. It makes sense to us because we've been obsessing about mom's murder for the last two years since finding out, but for the person responsible it's been twenty-four years. That's a long time. It's almost unbelievable that if it were him, he'd pick our house and find mom's picture." Gracie retied her apron. "You need to talk to Wayne."

"If we're wrong about him, we're both going to prison if he goes straight to Lieutenant Gomez." Clara pushed the cart and followed Gracie to the next booth. "He's given me no sign that he'd agree to work with us without involving the police. He's all about working with Lieutenant Gomez and focusing on the victims, not the suspect."

"He's falling in love with you. That can only help us," said Gracie.

Clara's throat tightened. He wasn't the only one falling in love. She found it hard to move forward with their plan because her feelings toward Wayne were real. If he agreed to find their mom's killer, he had more to lose than they did if the job failed. If he agreed to their request, would their love survive the ramifications that would come afterward? They'd both have to live with their decisions for the rest of their life.

"I'm scared. Now more than ever with the break-in." Clara rubbed her eyes, remembered she had makeup on and stopped. "I have so much to lose."

Gracie sat down on the other side of the booth and whispered, "You have more to lose than me now. That's why it's up to you to talk to Wayne or not. I will love you no matter what you decide."

She looked into a face that mimicked hers. The same eyes, the same mouth, the same nose, the same hair. Before they'd learned the truth about their mom, they'd lived a comfortable life. Their father loved them. They both had jobs they enjoyed. They'd accepted how normal of a life they had together.

Then, everything turned upside down. The unconditional love they remembered coming from their mom would not be tarnished. The anger they felt toward her murderer turned into hatred once they let the truth sink in.

"I'll talk to him in the morning before work. I don't want to spring this on him tonight." Clara blew out her cheeks and caught movement in front of the window looking out to the sidewalk. "We need to unlock the door. There are customers coming."

Gracie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Wayne will be back to spend the rest of the day and night with us here. We're safe. Let's just get through the day."

She slid out of the booth. "I'll get the door. You finish the rest of the tables."

For the next several hours, she worked in a daze. Wayne came back inside the bar, and she stayed aware of him sitting in the back booth as she went through the motions of treating each customer special and serving them their food and drinks. She took money, counted change, and remembered who ordered what food off the menu automatically. Though she couldn't remember any details, her body went through the motions, her manners came out of habit. Nobody complained, and her tips filled her pocket, so she succeeded in holding it all together.

They needed to hire two waitresses because she and Gracie couldn't continue working the same schedule day after day. It was too much for them, and business was steady and supposed to climb higher the closer they got to the peak of summer. But, until she knew what would become of her future, she couldn't disrupt someone else's. If she landed in prison, the bar would close, employees would be out of a job, and it would be another thing to add to her list of terrible things she'd done.

She stopped in the middle of the room. Everyone had their meals. Gracie covered those who were only drinking. Paxton, dear Paxton, worked flawlessly without any help in the kitchen.

Gracie carried two drinks and, as she passed Clara, said, "Take a break, sis. I got it."

Retying her apron, she walked over to Wayne, leaned down, and kissed him before sliding in beside him. "You're probably bored stiff."

He put his arm around her. "I'm okay."

His empty glass sat in front of him. She tapped the table. "I'll get you another drink in a few minutes."

"How about some coffee instead." He yawned. "Gomez called. He's coming in at ten o'clock when his shift ends."

She slipped her fingers into his hand under the table. Her curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to know why they were meeting. His friendship with the lieutenant made her nervous. She had no idea how far back they went or how loyal Wayne was to working with law enforcement.

"Have you been friends with Lieutenant Gomez for a long time?" She looked up at him. "You seem to be close."

"We've known each other for twenty years. Gomez came on the force when Notus started doing every search that came up." Wayne ran his hand over his jaw. "He's a good guy. He's got a decent relationship with his ex-wife, and he spends a lot of time with his two kids when he's not working. One of the fairer cops on the force that doesn't have an attitude about asking for help from the outside."

"You?" she said.

"Without him backing us, the police department wouldn't give us the information we needed to search, and we'd have to work as a private contractor and contact the families. That doesn't work too well when you're a biker. With the P.D. validating us, the families want us helping." He brought her hand over to his thigh and held on. "Listen, sweetheart. We need to talk about what you plan to do when the bar closes tonight. Thad got a crew into your house earlier when he grabbed your clothes for work. Your room is cleaned now, and I have no problem staying with you at your house, but I'd like to have you come home with me. Gracie's welcome, too. Hell, she can sleep with us again."

She studied him. Any other man would have had an ulterior motive for the invite. She couldn't count how many times men have tried to get her and Gracie to sleep with them, to their disappointment. Her and Gracie wanted to be viewed as individuals, not some sick sexual pleasure.

Wayne only had concern written on his face. His dark eyes studied her, and his seriousness over the situation alarmed her.

"Is there something else going on that we should be afraid of?" she asked.

Wayne's gaze lifted and he raised his hand. "Gomez is here."

She squeezed his thigh. "Wayne?"

He leaned closer, kissed her softly, and said, "We'll talk later."

Sensing Lieutenant Gomez behind her, she nodded and slid out of the booth. Still on the clock, she smiled and stepped out of the way.

"How are you doing...Gracie? Clara?" Lieutenant Gomez winced. "Sorry, I can't tell you two apart."

"It's okay. I'm Clara." She reached into her pocket and removed her tablet, having never seen Lieutenant Gomez without his uniform on. Tonight, he looked younger in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, more laid-back and less intimidating. "Would you like anything to eat or drink while you visit with Wayne?"

He sat down and clasped his hands together on top of the table. "I'll take a beer. Thanks."

"Coming right up." She made her escape.

At the counter, she watched the two of them talk. Wayne leaned forward, his head bent as if keeping his voice low. There was something going on, and they weren't going to talk while she was around them.

She set the mug of beer on a tray and stepped into the kitchen to grab Wayne his coffee. Gracie pushed through the door following her.

"Hey, what's going on at booth three?" Gracie stood beside her at the coffee pot.

Clara leaned over and looked for Paxton and found him at the grill with his back to them. She whispered, "I don't know. He's meeting with Lieutenant Gomez, but before he came, Wayne was pretty intense about us coming to his house and not staying at home."

Gracie shuddered. "Trust me, I'm nervous about staying at the house, too, but all our stuff is there, and we're going to have to go back."

"We have our toothbrushes and makeup in our purses." Clara put the pot back on the warmer. "All we need are clothes for tomorrow. We could stay one more night with Wayne, don't you think?"

"I don't know, sis," said Gracie. "Couldn't Wayne sleep at our house?"

She nodded. "He said he would."

"Then, let's go home. It'll be harder if we keep staying at Wayne's."

Her sister was right. It would also be easier to talk to him with no interruptions from the members of his club, since Thad, Chuck, Glen seemed to pop in at all hours at Wayne's house.

"I need to get out there and give them their orders." Clara pushed out the kitchen door and carried the tray to Wayne's booth.

She quietly placed the drinks in front of them and slipped away without interrupting their conversation.

The longer they talked together, the more nervous she became. Tomorrow morning, she'd need to come clean with Wayne. Would he feel more loyalty toward a man who he'd been friends with for twenty years or her, the woman he'd only recently started sleeping with?

She stayed busy, cleaning while she kept up on customers, talking with the ones who enjoyed some chatter and made sure everyone stayed happy while staring at the clock above the bar. When Paxton left work, Gracie double-checked the lock on the back door twice, and Clara followed her each time. Even the bar felt unsafe since their home was broken into. No one could slip in the back, but the man who had trespassed in their home could walk through the open front door whenever he wanted.

Clara looked around at the remaining customers. It could be any one of them, and she'd have no idea. Nowhere was safe. Her and Gracie had no idea their lives would be shaken up by danger when they'd moved back to St. John's.

***

He ripped the Duct tape off the plastic covering the broken window off the car completely and tossed the wrapping into the street. The empty driver's seat pissed him off. "Damnit."

The remote control for the garage door was gone. He looked up and down the street. He'd fucked up.

Instead of putting the controller back, hoping the broken window would go unnoticed until he could get set up for when he brought one of the twins back to his house, he should've taken the control with him. Now he had no way to get into the house without someone noticing.

He banged the heel of his hand against the side of his head. Think. Think. Think.

The women couldn't outsmart him. He was better and more skilled now. They wouldn't get away with fucking up his plan for them. Once he was done, they'd regret trying to stop him.

He took a deep breath, then another. Unlocking his clenched fists, he let his anger out. There would be enough time to make himself feel good once he got his hands on one of the twins.