“I traced her to a shelter, but she left. Maybe she’ll go back. We’ll let you know if we find her.”
Liz stood to leave and shook their hands again.
“Please call me.” A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “I’m desperate. I was told every day that passes since my sister disappeared is a day closer to her death. If this amnesic woman knows me, even if I don’t know her, maybe she knows something.” Liz McAllister blinked back tears and walked away.
The phone rang. On the second ring, Myra heard the metallic click of Todd’s machine sitting by the phone. Through it, she heard his voice. “Myra, pick up.” “I’m here,” she called out to the machine. “Pick up.”
Myra held the small black box and pressed the TALK button. Tentatively she placed it to her ear.
“Hello? Todd?”
“There you are, what took you so long?”
“Ah, well.”
“Never mind.” His voice was curt. “How is everything there?”
“Good, fine.” Something was bothering him, Myra could sense it. “I’m getting ready to cook dinner. What time will you be here?”
“About four-thirty.”
“I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah. Hey, Myra, do me a favor. Stay in the house.”
“Is it not safe?” she asked.
“Yes, no. I’ll explain when I get home.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Todd?” Myra wanted to ask what bothered him, but changed her mind.
“Yes?”
“Be safe.”
“See you at four-thirty.”
What happened? She had read the directions, and still the smoke billowed from the oven. The boxes of food melted into the wire racks. She had obviously missed something vital for the success of the meal. Even though the meal smoked dangerously, she hadn’t burned the house down. The dishtowel that caught on fire didn’t really count. Who knew the heated rod in the oven would be so hot? Besides, the water flowing through the pipes in the sink quickly put the fire out. However, the windows needed to be opened to air-out the room, and that made the whole house cold.
She rummaged in the refrigerator until she found the makings for sandwiches. Not the meal she had planned, but it would have to do.
Myra brought in a few logs Todd had drying by the back fence for a fire. Myra set them in the hearth and opened her hands. Flames caught on the log and brought a smile to her face.
Chapter Six
Todd thought he stepped into the wrong house.
Music played on his stereo, a fire blazed in his fireplace, and there was the smell of something cooking coming from the kitchen. Not cooking so much as burning. The unmistakable scent of burnt plastic filled the room.
He spent the better part of the day trying to structure a speech to lay on Myra about how she needed to be straight with him or she would have to leave. Now seeing all she had tried to do made him forget every last word of his prepared speech.
In the kitchen, she bent over the oven, and he admired the view. She wore one of the outfits he bought for her the day before. A simple pair of blue jeans fit snug to her hips and made the most appealing sight he’d seen all day.
He shook his head. That kind of thinking wasn’t going to get him anywhere except deeper into whatever trouble she was in.
“Hey.”
Myra turned and noticed him staring. Her dimples broke out along with her smile. He could get used to that.
“You’ve been busy.” He moved to the counter, set his sunglasses and keys on it.
“A little.” She moved to the refrigerator, pulled out a beer and handed it to him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
No woman had ever made him a meal in his home. Sure, he’d been invited to dinner by women at their place, but never his. It was an unwritten rule of bachelorhood not to let a female anywhere near your kitchen. If you did, they would move right in and before you knew it, you would be saying ‘I do’.
And Todd didn’t.
“Did something burn?”
His eyes circled the room, and her ears glowed red in what Todd quickly identified as embarrassment. “I’m not as adept in the kitchen as I thought,” she told him. “I did the best I could. I hope it’s okay?”
“Of course. I am going to change clothes.”
Myra stared after him, wondering what she had done wrong. She thought he would be pleased to come home and not have to cook for himself. It was the least she could do to repay him for all his generosity. She finished setting the food on his table, poured herself some wine, then waited for him to return.
The meal was full of awkward comments and difficult moments. Gone was the previous day’s lightheartedness and fun. Something was bothering Todd, and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
It got to the point where they both ate in silence.
Finally, when they were cleaning the dishes, she summoned up the nerve to ask, “What’s bothering you? Did something happen at work?”
He stared out the window avoiding her eyes.
“Yeah, something happened.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He looked up. “Elizabeth McAllister came into the station today.”
She flinched.
“How do you know her?”
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you give us her name?”
Myra put their dirty dishes in the sink. “I was told she might help me when I got here.”
“By whom?”
She waited a beat and turned toward him. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t, not yet anyway.”
“Dammit, Myra, why not!” He dropped the plate in the sink. It broke into several pieces.
“You wouldn’t—”
“Understand,” he finished for her. “Well understand this—Elizabeth McAllister walked into the station today holding out hope that we had some word where her sister is, and thought maybe, just maybe, we had some answers for her. How do I know you didn’t have something to do with that?”
“I had nothing to do with Tara’s disappearance.”
“You say her name like you know her.”
“I do.”
“How can I believe you had nothing to do with her vanishing into thin air?”
“I didn’t,” she cried.
“You’re lying!”
“I told you I wouldn’t lie!” she yelled back.
“Where is she?”