“Because we looked like we were trying to rob a car that’s not worth a hundred bucks? I don’t think so.”
They went inside the diner, and for a moment Chelsea stood looking around. There were eight tables and four booths along a wall. Only five of them had customers. Who owned the old car? she wondered. Who was hiding a multithousand-dollar watch and briefcase—and why?
Eli caught Chelsea’s hand and pulled her to the left. There was another room that sold snacks and maps and toiletries. Grabbing a basket, he led her to the aisle of chips: blue, flavored, corn, potato. There seemed to be a half mile of them.
“Look,” he said, “as you have said to me about a dozen times in the last twenty-four hours, you and I aren’t kids anymore. Why that man has a couple of expensive items in his trunk is none of our business.” He glared at her. “We are not Robin and Marian, certainly not Les Jeunes.”
“Are you saying that with all your famous friends you can’t find out anything about this man?”
Her words were a challenge to him, and after a moment he sighed. “All right, get something.” He pulled out his phone.
“Who are you texting? Pilar?”
“Can’t tell you. You don’t have the security clearance. What’s the guy’s name on the business card you lifted?”
“You don’t have my clearance to see it.”
Eli looked at her in disbelief, but she just smiled. “Okay, I’m sending the license number to a cop friend of mine. He’s not supposed to do this but he owes me. Now will you give me the name?”
“Let me type it in.”
Reluctantly, he handed her his phone and she tapped in the name Orin Peterson, plus the name of the store she’d seen on the papers.
When a man came down the aisle, Eli and Chelsea grabbed bags of chips and left. Around the corner were drinks.
“What do we do now?” Chelsea whispered as she reached for bottles of water.
Eli put a six-pack of ginger ale in the basket. “We just wait until Steve gets back to me.”
“It’s Saturday!” Chelsea said. “Nobody is at work today. Most people are out having fun. But you made me sleep on the ground last night so we’re not. Did you think that all that outdoors was going to put me in the mood to . . . To what? Be seduced by you?”
He leaned toward her. “I thought maybe you’d be inspired to take some pictures. As for seducing you, I leave that to the sheriff’s brother. He’s a three. I’m a one, remember?”
When the other customer moved to their aisle, they went to the refrigerator case. Chelsea tossed containers of Greek yogurt in the basket Eli was holding, while he pulled out a couple of ready-made sandwiches.
“What does Sheriff Frazier have to do with any of this?” she asked.
“Not him, his brother, Lanny. The guy at the bar, remember? And how do you know Colin?”
“I don’t,” Chelsea snapped and moved to the candy aisle. “Wait a minute. Lanny? Is his real name Lancaster?”
“I have no idea,” Eli said. “If you don’t hurry up, whoever owns that car is going to leave. You do want to see who it is, don’t you?”
“I’ll get a table while you pay for this. And get a cooler and some ice.”
As he watched her walk away, Eli was annoyed—but only for seconds. He was so very pleased that his plan had worked. The Chelsea who’d arrived at his house, the one with the scared look in her eyes, was beginning to disappear—thanks to him. He’d thought she needed a jolt, something that would shock her out of what she’d become, which was a woman who didn’t laugh at truly idiotic things that were said about her hair and her eyes being pools of . . . whatever.
At one point last night he’d said, “My dad fell in love with Mom when they were alone in the woods.”
Chelsea had narrowed her eyes at him. “I bet that adorable little town of Edilean is full of women who love the forest at night. I bet that town has pie-baking contests. You should do a search to find the winner and ask her to marry you.”
Eli had tried to act as though her words displeased him, but he was glad he was finally seeing a glimpse of his Chelsea. This clean-faced Chelsea, chomping down on fried chicken, was interested in something besides her hair—and her eye makeup and whether she’d gain an ounce from eating a hot dog. He didn’t want her to go back to being the perfectly bland creature she’d been when she arrived.
As for the expensive briefcase and watch in the car, Eli didn’t think it mattered much. There was probably a perfectly good explanation for it, but if it put light in Chelsea’s eyes, then he’d help her. As long as she didn’t get too outrageous and do something they could be prosecuted for, he would back her up.
By the time Eli had paid for their items and put them in the car, Chelsea was seated in a booth in the diner and pretending to read a menu. He took the bench across from her.
“The waitress hates me,” she whispered over her menu. “I moved three times because I was near the wrong people, but I think I got it right this time.” She lowered her voice. “It’s the man we saw in the store. I think he’s waiting for someone.”