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off her tanned, well-toned legs—the bandage on her knee and the fresh scratches couldn’t even distract from their appeal. She wore a long-sleeved cotton shirt. She looked young and fresh and innocent, and it made him think that maybe he was crazy for suspecting that she was hiding something. His experience with Marcy had warped his judgment.
    “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the step. He separated her silky hair to take a look at the cut. Her skin, her hair, something, smelled like raspberries and he was afraid to breathe too deep, afraid that it would be a scent that he wouldn’t be able to easily shake.
    The cut was a half-inch long. It had stopped bleeding and looked clean. “I think it’s okay.”
    “Good.” She stood up. “I need to get to work. Janet has got to be going crazy.”
    “While she and I didn’t have much time to get acquainted, I got the impression that Janet is pretty competent. Couldn’t she handle the place for a while so that you could rest?”
    “I don’t need to rest. And you’re right. On a normal day, Janet could probably take care of the place with one hand tied behind her back. But we’re short a dishwasher and, more important, tomorrow is the town picnic. The Chamber of Commerce provides the meat and pays Nel’s to make the sandwiches. We’ve got over a hundred pounds of roast beef that needs to be cooked today so that we can slice it tomorrow for Italian beef sandwiches.”
    Town picnic. Chase must have been really worried about his mother to have forgotten to mention that. A hundred pounds of beef meant a lot of sandwiches. Which probably meant that a whole lot of people were expected. “So what happens at this event?”
    “Everyone gathers for a parade. Then there’s lunch in the park, some games for the kids, maybe some volleyball for the adults. By late afternoon, people drift off. There are lots of people in this community who still have milk cows, so they don’t have the luxury of missing chores.”
    Cows. Chores. Town picnic. He was in the middle of a Norman Rockwell painting. All his debts to Chase were definitely going to be paid in full. He couldn’t wait to get home to his apartment, where he knew his neighbors by sight but he sure as hell didn’t spend any time talking to them.
    “Any more thoughts about who might have been driving that car?” he asked.
    “No.”
    “It strikes me as somewhat of a coincidence that you get a baseball through your window last night and this morning you’re almost run off the road. Are you sure there’s nobody pissed off at you?”
    She stared at him. “Look, I appreciate the help. Both last night and this morning. But I can’t imagine the two things have anything to do with one another. Last night was petty vandalism, and this morning it was an accident. The driver lost control, swerved, probably didn’t even see me. Now I really have to be going.”
    Without another word, she walked to the garage and pulled her van out. When he motioned that he’d shut the garage door, she shook her head sharply, got out and did it herself. Then she waved her hand, making sure he understood that she expected him to leave first.
    She couldn’t have made it any clearer. I don’t need or want you watching over me .
    * * *
    B Y THE TIME Tara locked the restaurant’s door that afternoon, she was almost shaking with fatigue. She wasn’t surprised when she closed out the cash drawer that receipts were up almost twenty percent. The broken window had sparked plenty of interest, and by the time Gordon had told his tale around town, the lunch crowd had swelled to standing-room only.
    Yes, I’ve got someone coming to fix the window.
    Yes, I did take the ditch this morning.
    I’m not sure either what this world is coming to.
    Tara had refilled coffee cups and offered thick slices of strawberry rhubarb pie. One of her regulars offered her a dog. Said that he had a pit bull that could protect Nel’s and her, but then again, maybe not,