What She Saw Page 2

  “Well, that wouldn’t have caused an accident farther down the road,” Sarah said and closed her notebook. “Thanks, Haley. If you think of anything else, just let us know, okay?”

  “I will.”

  The deputies rose, leaving immediately. Haley jumped up, still feeling shaken, but needing to take care of her favorite customer. Her favorite customer? What an odd thought, considering he didn’t talk all that much. But he was nice. Then it struck her that he never came in with the rest of the waves. He always came alone.

  Move. She needed to move. She felt as if news of Ray’s death had tossed her brain like a salad, if only because she had once known him and he seemed so young to end this way. Keeping busy seemed like the only antidote.

  She grabbed the freshest coffeepot, a cup and saucer, and headed for Devlin’s table. “Hi, Mr. Devlin,” she said, trying for a smile as she poured his coffee. “What’ll it be tonight?”

  “An omelet with green peppers and onions, and rye toast, please.”

  Unlike others, he never imagined she would remember his usual order. He always told her, and rarely did he change it.

  “Coming up,” she said as cheerfully as she could.

  Then he startled her by calling her by name. “Haley?”

  She turned at once, surprised, and found those deep, dark eyes fixed on her. “Yes?”

  “There was an accident?”

  “Yeah. A truck went off the road east of here. One of your company’s, I think. At least it looked like your truck.”

  He nodded slowly. “I heard some of what you said. Mind telling me about it?”

  She hesitated, then decided there was no reason not to. The place was nearly a graveyard right now, and there was no reason not to chat for a few minutes.

  “Sure,” she said. “Let me just put your order in. Want me to leave the coffeepot here?”

  For the first time since she’d met him months ago, a faint smile touched the edges of his mouth and sparkled quietly in his eyes. It seemed to reach out and touch her, and made her tingle. “Sure. And bring a cup for yourself if it’s okay with the boss.”

  Hasty, as usual, didn’t have a problem. “As soon as I make his meal, I’m heading out back for a smoke. Go ahead and take a break. Damn, ain’t that some news about Ray? Used to go to my church before the family fell away.”

  After serving his meal, Haley got herself a cup and joined Devlin at the table. He stuck out a large hand. “Buck Devlin.”

  She shook it. “Haley Martin.”

  “Wild night, huh? Do you want something to eat?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, I’m okay. Hasty lets me eat whenever I want.”

  “One of the perks of working here, I guess. He sure makes a great omelet.”

  “You should try some of the other things on the menu sometime. He’s good at them all.”

  Again that faint smile in the corners of his eyes. “So you’ve noticed I’m a creature of habit.”

  “When it comes to what you eat here, anyway.”

  “I guess it comes from all the years when I didn’t have any say about much.” He fell silent, eating his omelet, munching on a bite of toast. She refilled his cup when he half drained it.

  “So,” he said a couple of minutes later, “you knew the driver who was in the accident?”

  “I went to school with him. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a few years. Do you know him? It looked like he drives for the same company. His shirt was like yours and his truck, too.”

  “I didn’t know him. I don’t spend a whole lot of time hanging around the terminal.”

  “Oh.” She wondered what that meant about him. Maybe he didn’t have a whole lot of time between trips. Or maybe he wasn’t like the other drivers who, when they came in here, at least, seemed to crave the company of other drivers. He did seem self-contained.

  “Must be a shock for you,” he said.

  “I guess.” She hesitated. “I don’t know, Mr. Devlin—”

  “Buck,” he interrupted.

  “Buck,” she repeated obediently. “Honestly, I haven’t seen Ray in six years. It was a surprise to see him again tonight. I thought he’d left for good. So, yes, it was a bit of a shock, but not a huge one. If you know what I mean.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  Something about his face suggested he did.

  “Maybe he fell asleep at the wheel,” she said when he remained quiet. “Not that he seemed sleepy or anything when he stopped in for coffee. But I guess it’s possible.”

  “Could be. Some drivers push it too hard and too long.”

  “I thought there were regulations about that.”

  “There are. And for every regulation there’s a way around it. So...you said you saw him doing something before he came in here.”

  She turned her coffee cup in her hands, looking down. Something about the intensity of his gaze made her a little self-conscious, like she should be patting her hair to make sure it hadn’t fallen from the bun she wore to work. “I’m not sure what I saw.” She nodded toward the window. “You can see how hard it is to see the lot from inside here. The odd thing was the way the two trucks were parked. Back-to-back. That’s something I haven’t seen before.”

  “Anything else?”

  She wondered why he was so curious about it when the cops seemed to think it irrelevant, but then figured there was no harm in telling him. He worked for the same company, after all. Maybe he figured the company would have some questions for him.

  “Well, I was sitting at one of the tables studying when I heard a clanging. I glanced out and thought it looked like they were moving some crates around, like there was a ramp between the trucks. But honestly, Buck, I’m not sure. I wasn’t paying close attention and I couldn’t see clearly. I don’t see what that has to do with his accident, anyway.”

  “Maybe nothing,” Buck said, returning to his meal. “How’s the pie?”

  “I recommend the cherry cobbler tonight. Hasty makes the best in the world.”

  His face suddenly blossomed into a smile, and the expression took her breath away. My God, he was gorgeous.

  “Then I’ll break tradition and have some cobbler a little later. Tell me about yourself, Haley Martin.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m curious.”

  Being the object of Buck Devlin’s curiosity made her heart skip a little. Why in the world would he be interested in her? But when she considered the story she had to tell, she figured the interest wouldn’t last. Not that it mattered, she told herself.

  “Not much to tell,” she tried to say lightly. “I grew up here, I’ve never been farther from home than Laramie. My mother got cancer when I was a senior in high school, so I took care of her until she died last year. Now I’m going to the community college. A very boring little life. What about you?”

  “Well, it hasn’t been boring,” he said, pushing his empty plate to one side. “Sometimes I think I’d like boring. Maybe that’s why I like driving so much. It’s peaceful.”

  “Have you always been a driver?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Army. I traveled all over the world, but take it from me, it wasn’t the stuff you’d put on a postcard.”

  “I suppose a lot of it wasn’t,” she said carefully, wondering if this man was troubled by nightmares. The notion gave her an unexpected pang.

  She rose and went to get him a generous serving of the cobbler. She thought he was done talking with her, but instead he motioned her to join him again, his brow arched questioningly.

  So she slid into the chair, refreshed her cup and waited to see what was going on. She didn’t think he was interested in her, particularly, but this was so out of character compared to the quiet way he usually came and went that her curiosity began to stir. Not to mention her hormones. She couldn’t evade her attraction to him, but it wouldn’t do her any good. It might cause her more problems.

  “I’m going to Denver tonight,” he said. “I�
��ll be back in a couple of days.”

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “I carry shipments from Seattle to Denver. Usually there’s a load leaving Denver for Seattle. Tacoma’s a decent-sized port and a lot of stuff leaves there for Japan and other points east, and we get stuff from there in and out of our terminal.”

  “What exactly do you carry?”

  He smiled faintly. “A little of this and a little of that, honestly. Everything from bikes to camping gear to coffee. Coming back out of Denver it can be a mix, or it can be an entire container of something headed overseas. I’m not much interested in my loads. I just need to get them delivered in one piece.”

  She nodded. “How is it coming over the mountains?”

  “A thrill and a half when the load is heavy, that’s for sure.” He rose, pulling out his wallet and putting thirty dollars on the table. A huge tip for her.

  “I’ll see you in a couple of days, Haley. Thanks for the company.”

  She stood, too, ready to clear the table, sorry to see him go so quickly. But he never lingered. He had a schedule to keep. “Have a safe trip.”

  “I intend to.”

  Then he paused and said something that sent a chill to her very bones. He kept his voice low, so low she was sure Claire couldn’t hear from the other end of the restaurant. “Haley? Don’t mention what you saw in the lot tonight. Not to anyone. I’m going to check with my company, but...just don’t mention it to anyone.”

  She stood frozen, wondering if that was a threat or a warning.

  “Promise,” he said.

  “I promise.”

  He smiled again. “Good. I’ll talk to you when I get back. Stay safe.”

  She watched him walk across the lot and climb into the cab of his rig. It was definitely a warning. But whatever for? The cops hadn’t even thought it important.

  What in the world did he think might be going on?

  Then she realized Claire had come to stand beside her. “Look out,” Claire said.

  Haley tore her gaze from the truck that was now pulling out of the lot and looked at the other waitress. “What?”

  “These guys are rolling stones, Haley, and we’re only a stop on a long road. Don’t waste any interest on them.”

  She knew Claire was right. “He just wanted to ask some questions about what happened tonight. Same trucking company.”

  “Sure.” Claire shook her head, but a wicked little grin seemed to dance around her mouth. “That’s why he was eating you up with his eyes.”

  Haley couldn’t prevent the shiver of pleasure that ran through her. “Don’t be silly.”

  “I saw it, and I’ve been around the block more than once.” Claire’s grin faded. “Just watch it, Haley. The guy’s probably got a life somewhere else.”

  He most likely did, Haley thought as she cleared the table and wiped it, just as another wave started to arrive. She owed it to herself to keep her eyes on her goals. That was the only sure way to build a future for herself.

  But throughout the night she kept remembering how good Buck Devlin looked, and how nice he’d been. And how she’d responded to him as a woman.

  Oh, well. Claire was right. He was just another rolling stone.

  Chapter 2

  Two nights later, Haley raced into work, her face burning. Hasty was sitting at his stool behind the cash register and his eyebrows lifted. “What the heck happened to you?”

  “Dress rehearsal is a great time to find out I must be allergic to stage makeup.”

  Hasty’s jaw dropped and then he let out a belly laugh. “No!”

  “Oh, yes. Is there any still left? I scrubbed it so much with cold cream, but it still burns.”

  “I can’t see it, but dang, girl, you look like you spent too long in the sun.”

  “And I have to do this again on Friday and Saturday night,” Haley answered. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Can’t they let you use something else?”

  “I’m not sure it would work. Besides, I never wear makeup because it’s an expensive waste of money. For all I know, I’m allergic to all of it.”

  “Go back and wash up some more. I got some of those over-the-counter pills that might help. It’ll make you sleepy, though. Maybe you should just take the night off.”

  “Not unless you think I look that bad. I got bills, remember?”

  Hasty chuckled a little and shook his head. “Soap and water, then I’ll give you one of them little pink pills. If you’re slow tonight, I won’t hold it against you.”

  Haley took his advice, scrubbing well with soap from the hand dispenser, and leaning close to the mirror to check for any remnants of makeup. She couldn’t find any, but her whole face looked red and just a bit puffy.

  When she got back out front, Hasty and Claire were seated on opposite sides of the counter, drinking coffee and chatting. Claire took one look and shook her head.

  “Can’t you get someone else to fill in for you? What do they call them? Understudies?”

  “Not for my role. It’s too small. No, I’ll just have to get through this.”

  She slid onto a stool beside Claire with a cup of coffee and accepted the pill Hasty popped out of a blister pack into her hand. “I didn’t know I was in trouble until after the rehearsal had started. I wanted to scratch my face off.”

  “You need to be careful,” Claire said. “I had a cousin who had an allergic reaction and it put her in the hospital the second time she had it. The first time wasn’t that bad.”

  “I should be able to get the makeup on and off in about fifteen minutes Friday night. And everybody knows what happened.”

  “That’s good. They’ll know what’s going on if it gets bad. Maybe it would help to put some petroleum jelly on your face before the makeup.”

  “That’s an idea. Thanks.”

  Hasty poured himself some more coffee, then came back to lean his elbow on the counter. “Ray’s wake is tonight and tomorrow night. Funeral Friday morning. I’m thinking about going to the funeral.”

  “I guess I should,” Haley said reluctantly. The last funeral she had been to was her mother’s, and she wasn’t sure she ever again wanted to see the inside of Meeker’s Funeral Home. “The wake, anyway. For a few minutes. I have a final Friday morning.”

  “Ray had his troubles,” Hasty opined, “but the family’s never been a problem. Being poor ain’t a sin, despite what some think.”

  “You’re talking to a couple of waitresses,” Claire said, a touch tartly. “We know.”

  Hasty flashed a grin. “You girls get better tips than my day girls. They got you beat on poor.”

  Claire sniffed. “Your day girls don’t work as hard. If they want more money, tell them to work nights.”

  Hasty was still looking amused. “I think they get that.”

  A short while later, the night’s first wave rolled in. Haley and Claire jumped to work, and after a little while, even though she noticed she was a little slower than usual, Haley felt her face calming down.

  At least nobody asked her about it. She joked casually with some of the drivers, but it seemed like an oddly quiet night. She wondered if news about Ray’s death had gotten around and they were all feeling a little more sober than usual.

  The place sure didn’t feel quite as energetic as it usually did when it was full. Or maybe that was the little pill Hasty had given her.

  She was working her way back through her section, clearing some tables, handing out tickets and picking up cash and change, serving latecomers, when Buck Devlin walked in. It was so unusual to see him when the place was crowded that she froze for a split second. He got his usual table, though, despite the crowd, and she worked her way toward him.

  It wasn’t easy. The night turned unusual in that another wave arrived before the first was done. Hasty was cooking with both hands as fast as he could, and Claire was looking a bit frazzled. What was going on?

  Then someone asked her for directions to the funeral parlor a
nd she knew: these men had heard about Ray’s death and that his wake started tonight. Whether they’d known him or not, at least some were going to pay their respects, however briefly.

  Because of the hour, most ate quickly, then headed out to walk to the funeral home, only a couple of blocks away.

  “Isn’t that something?” Claire murmured to her as they brushed past each other.

  Haley nodded. It was the last thing she would have expected.

  At last she made it to Buck’s table. By this point her apron was showing signs of wear and a tickle at her neck told her some of her hair had escaped from the bun.

  “The usual?” she asked him.

  “Not tonight,” he answered. “What do you recommend?”

  “Anything,” she answered promptly. “It’s all good.”

  “Then surprise me.” He smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Anything you don’t like or can’t eat?”

  “I’ve never been picky.”

  “You’re so helpful,” she said tartly. “I’m a waitress, not a wife. Pick something from the menu. I promise you’ll like it.”

  So he pulled the plastic card from the holder. “You going to Ray’s wake?” he asked casually as he scanned the menu.

  “Tomorrow night. I’m surprised so many drivers are going.”

  “Yeah. They’ve been gabbing about it on the radio since it happened. It bothers them.”

  “I guess I can see that. Did many of them know him?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “When does it ever?”

  He looked up and his eyes seemed to bore into her. “Something wrong?”

  She caught herself, wondering why she was being so prickly. “Sorry.” Then a thought occurred to her. “I took an allergy pill. I guess it’s not agreeing with me.”

  He nodded, dropped his gaze to the menu and said, “I’ll take the steak, medium rare, side of mashed potatoes and broccoli.”

  She scribbled it down then tried for a lighter note. “A man who eats broccoli. I hope Hasty can remember how to cook it.”