The Best Man to Trust - By Kerry Connor Page 0,53

out to the garage, but he wanted to be prepared. The sooner they got the process started, the better.

There was no answer at Meredith’s door when he knocked. Fighting the nervousness clawing up his spine, he told himself she must have gotten up already and gone downstairs. A burst of anger rose from the pit of his stomach at the idea of her wandering around alone, even though he had no right to tell her what to do. This was her house. That didn’t mean he had to like it. Frustration burned in his gut.

The only person in the kitchen when he walked in was Ellen. She looked up from the counter at his entrance, a distinct wariness in her eyes as they flew toward the door.

Doing his best to squelch his disappointment at finding her alone, Tom forced a smile he wasn’t close to feeling, hoping to put the woman at ease. “Good morning.”

She managed to return the gesture with a small, polite smile of her own before quickly lowering her eyes to the counter. “Morning.”

“Have you seen Meredith?”

“She and Rick went to get some supplies they thought you both might need to get to the garage.”

His first instinct was to ask where exactly they’d gone, so he could go there, so he could see her. Swallowing the words, Tom drew in a slow breath. Meredith was fine. He’d see her soon enough.

He slowly realized that, in the meantime, this was the first opportunity he’d had to be alone with the cook. The woman remained a mystery to him, probably more so than anyone in this place. And if he was inclined to believe Rick wasn’t the killer, that meant Ellen was the most likely option.

She started to turn toward the stove. Tom didn’t miss the fact that she didn’t put her back to him entirely as she worked, keeping him in front of her the whole time. Because she didn’t trust him, or because she was pretending not to?

“So, Ellen,” he said, doing his best to sound casual. “How long have you been a cook?”

He saw an unexpected spark of amusement enter her eyes. “You sure you’re not a reporter, too?”

He had to grin at that. “I’m sure.”

Her lips quirking, she shook her head. “All my life, really. But only a few years now as a job.”

“What’d your family think about you taking a job here? They must be worried that they haven’t heard from you in a while.”

The look she shot him said she knew full well he was fishing. Still she answered. “I don’t have any. Not anymore,” she added after a beat.

“I’m sorry.”

Ellen shrugged. “I’m not. Sometimes you’re better off. I used to have a husband, until he found a pretty young thing he liked better and took off. It was a lousy thing to do, but I know I’m better off without him.”

He eyed her carefully. “I wouldn’t blame you if you’re pretty cynical about marriage after that. You didn’t have any doubts about working here and cooking for weddings?”

“A job’s a job. And I’m not that cynical. Certainly not cynical enough to start killing bridesmaids, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Okay, so he’d been grasping at straws. Damn, he needed some answers.

Ellen shook her head. “I’ve had enough tough times in my life to learn that all you can do is pick yourself up and move on.” She paused just long enough to send him one more, rather pointed look. “You’d be surprised how much a woman can overcome. Especially if she has the right person to help her.”

The words seemed loaded with meaning, and Tom wasn’t sure at first how to interpret them. Who had she had to help her? And what was her purpose in telling him...

Then in a flash he understood.

She wasn’t talking about herself. She was talking about Meredith.

And him.

He suddenly remembered the way she’d looked at him and Meredith yesterday, that gleam in her eye. Was she simply imagining things, or had she sensed something between them?

He had to admit, if she had sensed something, she wasn’t imagining it. There was something between him and Meredith, a connection he never would have expected, especially not now, not under these circumstances, when there were so many more important things to think about, when people were dying and lives were on the line.

Or maybe that was exactly the time to see things, feel things, so much more clearly. They were surrounded by so much uncertainty, there was little time to waste