“What’s up?” Cain cocked her head up from under the brim of her hat to give the telephoto lenses, always aimed at the warehouse to catch her in a misstep, a clear shot.
“Why do you always look up when you know they’re there?” Jarvis turned the brim of his own hat further down on his head.
“I figure the ladies in the jury pool will never convict me if I provide enough good-looking photos for them to study in the deliberation room.”
The joke made her uncle laugh and slap her on the back. “Ah, it’s nice to hear a little of that ego back. I missed it.” They walked across the street to a café where Cain ate lunch almost every day. “Your father loved coming in here for the eggs.”
“You left your house in this rain to tell me about my father and eggs?” Cain waved to the waitress, holding up two fingers before she pointed to the coffeepot.
“It could be I just wanted to see you.”
The finger tapping on the table clued Cain to the fact that something was bothering Jarvis. Once the waitress put down two cups mixed with the right amount of cream and sugar, Cain laid her hand flat on the Formica surface, ready to hear whatever was on her uncle’s mind. “What gives?”
“Emma called.”
Had Jarvis stood up and slapped her, he wouldn’t have gotten a more stunned response. Cain slid her hand away from the coffee cup and curled it into a fist at hearing the woman’s name. “What did she want?”
Jarvis lowered his head and played with the top of the wet hat resting on his lap. He’d consider himself lucky if the fist close to him on the table didn’t lift and strike him before he was finished. He felt like the room had become nearly glacial from the color and look in her eyes.
“She’s in town and wants to meet with you. I offered her my protection as long as she doesn’t try to contact Hayden without your permission. I’m not telling you what to do, kid, but you need to finish with this business.”
“There’s no business to finish, it’s done. She walked out, remember?”
“She went home…” said Jarvis.
“This was her home, and our life.” Cain’s voice rose an octave, and she slammed her fist on the table, making the salt shaker fall to the floor and break. “I know where she went, uncle Jarvis. For Hayden’s sake, I know all about her. What does she want?”
Jarvis was surprised at the outburst since Cain was usually all about control when she was in public. He noticed that everyone else in the diner went about their business as if the two of them were sitting in a soundproof box.
“Just a chat, Cain. Then you’re done.” Jarvis put his hands up in an effort to calm her down. He knew he was taking a chance, but he thought it was the best decision for all of them in the long run. He was willing to gamble anything for Cain to be happy.
Cain turned in her chair and addressed Merrick. “Call Mook now. Tell him no detours today, straight home, and he doesn’t open the door unless it’s one of us. Any fuckups on this one and it’ll be his last.”
Merrick didn’t ask why. She just pulled her phone out and relayed the message to the big blonde who was in charge of Hayden’s personal security.
Cain glared at Jarvis. “Tell Emma to meet me at the Erin Go Braugh at one o’clock. She’s got twenty minutes. And next time, uncle, never pick someone else’s loyalties above your family’s. If you learned anything from my father, besides what foods he liked to order, it should’ve been that.”
Chapter Three
The guards left Cain to her thoughts when they arrived at the Erin Go Braugh, a pub she owned. The crew who ran the place were restocking the bar and finishing their cleanup in preparation for the nightly crowd, and they too worked in silence. Cain closed her eyes and revisited the night that had changed her fate.
Fourteen Years Earlier at the Erin Go Braugh
“Emma, pickup for table five, and try not to spill it this time.” The bartender slid the tray toward the new server, thinking he was going to have to start taking the lost liquor out of her paycheck. He felt sorry for the kid who’d begged for a job so she’d be able to stay in the city and in school. Too bad she wasn’t as graceful as she was cute.
“Don’t worry, Josh. I think I’ve got the hang of it now. This place’s so crowded it takes a miracle to make it to the tables without spilling something.”
Emma Verde had walked by the Irish pub numerous times when she was out with her friends. The live music and selection of beer and native Irish whiskey drew a large crowd nightly, prompting her to wander in one afternoon and ask for a job.
She’d moved to New Orleans to attend Tulane, over the strong objections of her mother. The last thing Carol Verde told her as the bus pulled away from Hayward, Wisconsin, was there’d be no help coming from them since Emma had chosen a place so far from their Christian values.
The tips Emma figured she’d make would allow her the luxury of her tiny apartment and the part of her tuition not covered by scholarship and student loans. Tulane had offered her not only the most lucrative scholarship, but also a chance to get a long way from Wisconsin. Her mother had been right about one thing. New Orleans, especially the French Quarter, was a world away from the farm she’d grown up on.
As she walked toward table five, she thought about the shock that would kill her mom if she discovered her working in a bar. Laughing at her own private joke, Emma never saw the tall woman who crossed into her path. The one thing she noticed, though, was the tray full of ale the woman was wearing when they parted.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t see you.” She used her hands to try and mop the mess she’d spilled from the thick, heavily starched linen shirt. When Josh appeared at her side, she figured he was there to fire her.
“Josh, where’d you find this one?”
The deep teasing voice made her look up and study more closely the face of the woman she’d run into.
“I’m sorry, Cain. Emma’s training day hasn’t been working out quite as planned.”
“Emma, huh?”
She held out her hand, now sticky with ale, but Cain took hold of it anyway. “Emma Verde. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, grimacing at how wet her hand felt.
“Cain Casey. The pleasure’s all mine,” answered Cain, not letting go of her hand. “Where are you from?”
“Hayward, Wisconsin.”
A low rumbling laugh bubbled out of Cain’s chest, which made Emma’s ears get hot for some reason.
“Any bars in Hayward?”
“Just a diner, but they only serve beer at night.”
Cain peered over Emma’s head at her bar manager. “Don’t mind me, Josh. I think this hayseed’s a keeper.”
It had been their first meeting. A night they laughed over often after they had gotten together and Emma had moved in with her.
For Emma, the daughter of a diary farmer, Cain had given up all the women who had shared her life and her bed. For eight years it had been blissful. They’d had Hayden, and the happiness Emma had brought into her life grew. But then Emma had turned her back on all of it.
The hayseed, as Cain often called her, left her seven-year-old son and her lover behind when she couldn’t live with Cain’s darker side any longer. Emma returned to the farm she had grown up on and apparently forgot her life with Cain. Not one phone call, postcard, or letter had come south after she had left, and now after four years she was back. But it was far too late for talking now. She should have talked to Cain four years earlier.
*