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“Why would the killer still be coming after me?” Tina asked in a whiny voice.

“I don’t know that, either. It seems like it would have been over with Alex’s death.”

“Maybe it was for the honor.” Ollie glanced at us. “You know, he wanted to finish the job so people didn’t think he couldn’t pull it off.”

“I’ve never known a professional killer,” Delia said. “Is that how they are?”

Ollie cleared his throat and sat back against the seat, his head almost touching the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’m just guessing. It’s not like I know any professional killers—at least not right now.”

“I shouldn’t go to Mobile.” Tina started crying again. “I’m probably doing exactly what the killer wants me to do. Let me out here, Miguel. I’ll walk to the nearest bus stop.”

“We’re only a few minutes outside the city,” he reasoned. “I’ll take you somewhere safe. At least talk to the police in Mobile first. We might still be able to sort this whole thing out.”

Tina sat forward and pressed herself against his shoulder—again. “You always know the right thing to do.”

I gave Delia a disgusted look that she returned. Ollie laughed out loud before he clamped a big hand over his mouth.

“It’s going to be fine,” Miguel told Tina. “It’s all going to work out.”

“That may or may not be true,” I muttered under my breath.

Miguel managed a quick smile at me. “What did you say, Zoe?”

“Nothing. Just thinking ahead to the last part of the race.” I smiled brightly at him.

He smiled back, not a clue.

“We better start figuring this out before the killer finishes his job and gets rid of Tina,” Ollie said. “Once he’s gone, the police probably won’t be able to find him.”

Tina made a slightly strangled cry.

“If there is a killer on Tina’s trail,” Delia added, “he probably won’t stop until she’s dead. Bless her heart.”

I smiled but kept my thoughts to myself.

It was wonderful when we finally rolled into Mobile. I love my hometown, and I was looking forward to clean clothes and staying in my own place, such as it was. Whoever it was that said, “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home,” had to know circumstances like mine.

Delia was staying with me since she had to give up her apartment after she’d lost her job. Ollie was still living at the homeless shelter two doors down. What I could pay either one of them wasn’t enough to have their own places. I hoped it would get better soon, but there were no guarantees.

Miguel pulled the Mercedes smoothly into the rutted and overgrown parking lot for the old shopping center where my diner was located. He got out as we did. Tina stayed in the car.

“Back where we started from,” he said with a smile.

“Almost. A little better off, I think.” I couldn’t resist putting my arms around him and giving him a big kiss. I knew Tina was watching from the car. That wasn’t the only reason I did it, but it was one of them.

“That part is a lot better.” His arms were around me. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

I sighed. “I still have to go to the race dinner and see what we have to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah. That’s right. I’d almost forgotten. Where are they having the dinner?”

“At Chef Art’s mansion, Woodlands. He invited everyone to stay there, too. You know how he likes to show off his place.”

“I’ll be there. Six P.M.?”

“Yep. You could pick me up, if you don’t mind. Uncle Saul has the Biscuit Bowl. I’m not sure when he’s going to be back.”

“I’d like that. I can’t wait to see what they want you to do for the finale. Whatever it is, it probably won’t be as good as seeing you in that red bikini.”

I smiled, and he kissed me again.

“Hey, can I get a ride, too?” Ollie yelled from across the parking lot.

“Me, too.” Delia was waiting for me to open the door to the old diner.

“He’s got big ears,” I told Miguel.

“I heard that,” Ollie shouted.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Miguel laughed.

I kissed him again, with one eye on Tina’s face. “I can’t wait.”

– – – – – – –

It was good to be home. The diner was a little decrepit, but it was mine. I could still look at it and see all my big dreams coming true. Someday, I planned to be as famous as Chef Art. People would come from all over the world to eat my food. The dream kept me going. If I won the fifty-thousand-dollar grand prize for the race, I’d be a step closer to that dream.

“If you win the money,” Delia asked, painting her toenails, “will you still run the food truck?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it would all depend on whether or not that’s enough to remodel everything here—and still have money to live on until the customers come to find me.”

I wasn’t crazy, despite what my mother, some friends, and my ex-boyfriend thought. Word of mouth for a good meal was essential, but so was having an advertising budget and being able to buy more food. I knew restaurants closed more frequently than any other small business. I’d worked at a bank for years. I was aware of the odds.

Still, most people didn’t think I’d come this far. When I’d given up that other life of watching food shows on TV and started making real food for real people, I’d been determined to reach my goal. The food truck had already played a big part in my plan. Even with the fifty thousand dollars—only half of which would be left after taxes—I’d still have a long way to go.

We were sitting on the stools by the remodeled bar, next to the cooking area in the diner. The four booths were like traps when you sat on them. They sank down so low under the tables—it was almost impossible to get up. We were relaxing and talking about the last few days as I worked on my shopping list for the next day. I hadn’t heard from Uncle Saul yet, but I knew the basics of what would be needed for the last day.

“I can’t believe what’s happened with Ollie and me. Delia smiled like the cat that drank the cream. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he has a good heart. And he’s sexy, too. That surprised me.”

“A good heart I hope you’ll try not to break.” The dryer buzzed and I went to get my clean clothes.

“Zoe, you can’t expect me to be alone the rest of my life because someone might get hurt. Ollie’s a big boy. He can handle whatever happens between us.”

“I don’t expect that. Really. If you care about Ollie, I’m fine with it. He’s crazy about you.”

“Then why do you think I’d break his heart?”

I looked at her beautiful face. “I think you want more than an ex-marine who lives in a homeless shelter can give you.”

She laughed, but her eyes were guarded. “I’ve worked since I was twelve. I supported my mother for years before she died. I’ve supported my sisters. I’d like a little comfort before I die. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

I couldn’t judge her. I’d been born into a life of wealth and privilege. I didn’t know what it was like not to have whatever I wanted. I’d given that up for my diner, but I knew in my heart, if I needed my parents, they’d be there. Delia’s life hadn’t been like that.

“I just don’t know if Ollie can change to be that person. I wish he could, for him as well as for you.”

“You may be right,” she said after a long moment. “Maybe I should stay away from him.”

She went into the pantry that we’d redone for her bedroom so she could have some privacy. I heard the door close softly and realized that I might have hurt her feelings. It wasn’t my intention, but sometimes words get tangled up and they don’t say what you mean.

TWENTY-EIGHT