Cold Dark Heart by Julie Kriss

Three

Andie

I didn’t wastemuch time. After the door closed behind Damon Blake’s—admittedly rather nice—jean-clad ass, I picked up my cell phone. But I didn’t call a service that does background checks. I called my dad.

“Hi honey,” he said when he answered. “What’s up?”

I immediately felt a few degrees of tension leave my neck and shoulders. My dad had been the county sheriff until three years ago, when bad health caused him to retire. He and I had always had a complicated relationship, because he hated Terry and had advised me not to marry him when I got pregnant by mistake. You’re going to regret this forever, he’d said to me on my wedding day. Your mother would hate him, too. That hadn’t gone over well, and we were estranged for a long time. The fact that Dad was right had been a hard pill to swallow.

But despite our rocky road, he was still my dad. He was also Miles’s grandfather, and in his retirement he’d started to spend more time with my son. They had a relationship that was special to them both, and I respected that. God knew Miles needed a grown man in his life who wasn’t his no-good father.

“Dad, do you still have access to background checks?” I asked.

“I can make some calls. Why? Someone bothering you?”

“No, nothing like that. I just—” I paused. Dad wouldn’t understand that I was thinking about hiring a total stranger to take over security for the bar—a man who knew Terry, at that. He’d think I was on the verge of doing something stupid, just like when I’d gotten knocked up and then married. “I’m thinking of hiring someone and I want to be sure of him first.”

“Why? What’s his problem?”

“No problem. I’m just being careful.”

“Sure, I get that. Send me a copy of his ID and his social security number, and I’ll do a check.”

Oh, right. “I don’t have those yet. Just a name.”

“You’re thinking of hiring someone and you didn’t ask for his ID? Andie, you know better than that.”

I closed my eyes. Conversations with my dad were always like this. “It’s just an idea at the moment.”

“What are you hiring for? I thought Terry had all the staff he needed at the bar.”

“I’m thinking of adding someone.”

“That seems like an expense.”

I tried not to shout. “I can handle it. If you don’t want to do it, it’s okay. I’ll hire a service.”

“And overpay? It sounds like you’re not being very careful with money. You’ll have to make some changes if you want to keep the bar afloat.”

Was that a stress headache crawling up the back of my skull, or just the headache I’d had every day for the past two weeks? It was hard to tell. “Fine,” I gritted out. “Don’t do it. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course I’ll do it.” He actually sounded surprised. “Jeez, you’re touchy today.”

I wished I hadn’t called. I should have just accepted Damon Blake’s story at face value, hired him on the spot, and let him rob and possibly kill me. That sounded easier than this. “I just have a name,” I said again.

“Where was he born?”

“I have no idea.”

Dad sighed, as if everyone should ask everyone where they were born. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I gave him Damon’s name and ended the call, reassuring him that everything was fine, just fine. When I hung up, I stared at the pile of problems on my desk, trying not to panic. It was nearly five, and I needed to get home to Miles.

A few months ago, Miles had campaigned to start riding his bike to school instead of taking the school bus. He was thirteen, not a baby anymore, and the bike ride was only fifteen minutes. He’d get fresh air and exercise every day, he said, but really what he wanted was some freedom. Terry had been mostly checked out, so of course the decision had fallen to me. If I said yes and something bad happened to Miles, I was a bad mother. If I said no, I was smothering him as he sought his independence.

I’d said yes, on the condition that he get home no later than four thirty every day. Since I worked from home at the time, it was easy for me to monitor. But since Terry left, I had been forced to work at the Wild Wild West—or the Wild, as everyone called it for short. I was no longer home by four each day, which meant that Miles was home unsupervised until I got there.

We’d had another blowout about this. Miles said he was perfectly capable of making himself a peanut butter sandwich and playing video games home alone until I got home. Logically I knew he was right, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. Was Miles lying to me? Was he coming home later because I wasn’t there? What kind of horrific parent was I to suspect my sweet thirteen-year-old boy? Was I paranoid? Why did this simple problem make me feel like my family was falling apart no matter how hard I worked to keep it together?

Was I actually going crazy? It felt like it sometimes.

In the end, I’d had no choice but to agree to Miles’s terms. I had to be at the Wild every day, and I couldn’t be home watching his every move. I was a single mother now. That was reality.

Still, it was nearly five, and my son could be murdered or on drugs right this minute. Also, I had to cook dinner. I needed to get home. I didn’t like being at the Wild too late anyway, because the later it got, the wilder it got. I didn’t like being at the bar at night.

Which is probably why you need to hire a security guy. Because you don’t feel safe in your own bar.

I tried not to think about it as I put on my jean jacket and picked up my purse. The pile of problems would be here tomorrow; God knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

Damon had said he was going to find an apartment. I wondered if he’d succeeded. He’d probably end up at a motel or at an AirBnB. There were a lot of listings in Salt Springs, I knew, but the expense would add up fast. Maybe he’d get discouraged and decide to leave town after all. And why was I thinking about Damon Blake and his scruffy jaw at all? Why was I wondering what his story was, what the problems were that he wasn’t going to tell me about? He was none of my business.

I said goodnight to Jimmy, who gave me a wave. One of the regulars at the bar, already a few drinks in, also waved at me. “Have a drink with me!” he called out.

I ignored him and headed for the door. Since Terry had left, some guys thought it was open season for me. They were wrong.

* * *

When I got home,Miles, as promised, was playing a video game in the living room. Next to him was a Coke and an open bag of chips.

“Where did you get those?” I asked him. I wasn’t a health freak, but I didn’t buy Coke or chips to keep in the house. If I did, Miles would eat nothing else.

He shrugged. “Bought them with my allowance.”

I frowned, deciding whether to lecture Miles on the proper use of his allowance versus spending it on junk food. But he’d come home on time, and I didn’t want to rock the boat. “Don’t eat too much,” I said, unable to help the mom in me. “I’m about to cook dinner.”

My son rolled his eyes, because no matter what, he was always able to eat more food. He didn’t bother to answer me.

I changed my clothes—my work clothes always smelled like a bar, no matter how much I ventilated the Wild during the day—and went to the kitchen to start on dinner. Even though I was an overworked, stressed-out, newly single mom, I felt a pang of actual happiness as I cooked rice and chopped vegetables, the sound of my son’s video games in the next room. Things had been so tense with Terry here—or with Terry not here, as he usually wasn’t this time of day. Until we split up, I hadn’t realized how much mental energy I’d spent wondering where Terry was and why he never told me anything. I’d been simmering with useless anger that sometimes boiled over into arguments with him. To tell the truth, I’d suspected he was cheating well before he took off with his girlfriend, but I hadn’t wanted to know the truth. I’d thought about Miles and my father’s judgments and I’d swept my suspicions under the rug.

I’d stopped having sex with Terry, though. It was well over a year since I’d let him touch me, which was the source of even more fighting. I’d lived in a shadowy half-existence, not really married but too cowardly to leave, just existing from one day to the next to raise my son and pay the next round of bills. I hadn’t been living at all.

And then Terry had dumped me, and the worst possible thing had happened after all. Miles lost his father, I was humiliated in front of everyone, and my own father had had plenty to say about my bad choices. I told you that man was no good was his favorite refrain. All I could think was, If I had just divorced Terry years ago, I could have gotten all of this over with.

But it was done now. Terry was gone, my embarrassment was public, and now it was just Miles and me. I was furious with Terry, but in moments like this I didn’t even think about him. I thought about how peaceful it was not to wonder where my so-called husband was and what he was doing. Or who he was doing.

I was finished with men. Absolutely, completely finished. I didn’t want the stress, the complication, or the emotion of a man in my life. I had Miles to think about, and he had been disrupted enough without me bringing someone new into his life.

Damon Blake flashed through my thoughts again, those gray eyes that could be so cold but were so intelligent at the same time. The way his hair curled against his neck. His legs in those jeans. No, I definitely wasn’t thinking of him in that way. After meeting him once, I already knew that Damon would be more stress and complication than I ever wanted to see again.

Besides, he could be a murderer just released from prison.

I cooked dinner for Miles and me, and didn’t admit to myself that I really hoped he wasn’t.