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at the Labor Day parade.”

      “Oh.”

      “But he wouldn’t let her share his ice cream at the carnival afterward,” Karin added, brightening at the recollection. “And Andrea Crane said that if they were French kissing a bunch he wouldn’t mind if she licked his cone.”

      Melanie perked up as they took their trays to a table. “Your mom was great yesterday. She sure let Aaron have it.”

      “You don’t like him, do you, Mellie?”

      “Nobody does. Even so, I’m glad that I get to stay here this year.”

      “Me, too.” Karin was still worried that Melanie’s brother would say she couldn’t come to the Nibble Nook. It was too weird being around her other friends now that her dad was dead; they wanted her to act as if everything was the same, and it wasn’t. Melanie never tried to get her to act different.

      Karin poked the cheese enchiladas on her plate, no longer hungry. Sometimes almost a whole week would go by without her getting that awful knot in her tummy, or the horrid cold chills that came when she remembered her dad’s accident. Then she’d feel guilty, as if she was forgetting him.

      “I wish we could eat lunch at the Nibble Nook,” Melanie said, taking a bite of her Mexican rice. “But this is better than the stuff at my last school.” She made a gagging gesture.

      “Yeah, Mom makes awesome burgers.” Karin determinedly began eating.

      Chapter Three

      BY MIDAFTERNOON Aaron had located a small company that specialized in replacement parts for equipment no longer used by most manufacturers. It was a niche business that probably got most of their profits from outdated places such as Cooper Industries.

      “We’ll send your order by overnight courier,” the representative assured. “But I’m surprised we have these parts in stock. Did you know they stopped making this model way back in the nineteen—”

      “I know,” Aaron interrupted in a dour tone. “Thank you.”

      He hung up and called the tortilla-chip division, letting them know they’d soon be back to full working order. Hiring someone to handle this sort of problem was becoming a priority; it still boggled his mind that his grandfather had gotten involved with the nitty-gritty of daily operations. The company needed midlevel managers to take responsibility and make decisions.

      They also needed a whole new factory.

      An email message came in from Peggy, telling him the next city council meeting was in a couple of days. Surprisingly, Peggy was willing to use the computer system he’d put into the executive office. The only other area where she’d shown support was his attempt to watch after Melanie. Thinking of which....

      He stepped to the outer office.

      “Peggy, are there any known problems with drugs or anything at the Nibble Nook? Some of the customers I’ve seen there look questionable, and I’ve heard that in small towns, a local hamburger stand can be a center for drug pushers and gang activity.”

      Her perpetual frown deepened. “I’ve heard that, too, but the Gibson family built the Nibble Nook over thirty-five years ago, and their regular clientele largely come from Cooper Industries and other businesses. You wouldn’t have known Jimmie Gibson when you were a boy here—he was four or five years older and living in Trident by then. He’s gone now, killed in a car accident last year.”

      So, Skylar was a widow.

      While Aaron had noticed she wore a wedding ring, he hadn’t given it much thought. Mostly he had worried that being around Skylar and a busy, roadside hamburger stand were a bad idea for a shy, sheltered girl like Melanie. The issue of his employees eating there was valid, as well—they weren’t happy about his new rules and could take it out on her.

      “You seem to know something about the Gibsons.”

      “I should hope so. I’ve lived in Cooperton my whole life.”

      Somehow, Peggy’s reply sounded critical, though Aaron didn’t know why. Did she think he should have returned to the company after college and graduate school, working as second fiddle to his grandfather for the past seven or eight years? It would have made him crazy, and he wouldn’t have learned anything about effective management.

      “I... Yeah,” he muttered. “Does Mrs. Gibson have any boyfriends who hang out at the Nibble Nook?”

      The thought of tattooed bikers or knife-toting gang members had kept him awake more than once after discovering where Melanie was spending so much time. Honestly, it was hard to see Skylar Naples as a solid, upstanding member of the community.... Skylar Gibson, he reminded himself. She’d made so much trouble as a teenager, even his grandparents had been aware of her, partly because she’d get drunk and do insane things like balancing on the roof of a moving car and flashing her breasts at city hall as one of her hoodlum buddies sped past.

      She’ll end up dead. Or in prison, Sarah Cooper had grimly pronounced on more than one occasion. Then she’d shaken her finger at Aaron, We’re not letting it happen to you.

      Honestly, they had acted as if he was the devil’s spawn. He understood they’d wanted him to turn out like them, rather than their flighty daughter, but why treat him as if he was one step away from reform school?

      “Boyfriends?” Peggy sniffed, dragging Aaron’s attention back to the present. “Skylar had quite a reputation once, but I wouldn’t know about it now. I don’t gossip about my neighbors.”

      “Of course.” It wasn’t the definitive answer Aaron would have preferred. “Your email said the city council is meeting on Thursday. Do you know how I get on their agenda?”

      She shrugged. “Call city hall and ask, probably.”

      Plainly, she wasn’t in a helpful mood. He hadn’t confided in her—it might be different if he’d hired Peggy himself, but he hadn’t; she had started in potato chips and moved up from there. Ironically, she could have been a valuable resource for him; instead she was a pain in the ass.

      “Thank you,” Aaron muttered, returning to his office.

      He found the listing for city hall in the small Cooperton phone book and dialed it.

      “Mayor’s office,” a woman answered. “Micki Jo speaking.”

      “This is Aaron Hollister, of Cooper Industries. I want to get on the agenda for the next city council meeting.”

      “Oh. Mr. Hollister.” Micki Jo’s youthful voice suddenly went ten degrees south of freezing. “What is this regarding?”

      Aaron hesitated. He didn’t want to discuss the matter with a secretary, especially since no one in Cooperton knew about his expansion plans yet. It would be best if he could speak to the council without them having any preconceptions.

      “I’d like to make a presentation about Cooper Industries.”

      “With that and four bucks I can get a macchiato latte,” she said drily. “The council has a full agenda this month, Mr. Hollister. I’ll need more details before adjustments can be made to the schedule.”

      “I...uh, have some plans to discuss.”

      “What kind of plans?”

      Aaron kept his temper with an effort. “For modifications at the company.”

      “What type of modifications?”

      Great. He’d have to tell her—sounding too secretive would just make things worse. “Expansion plans. And there’s a property-use rezoning issue that needs approval.”

      “Very well, I’ll let the mayor know. You’ll be notified if you’ve been added to the agenda.”

      If he’d been added?

      “But I—”

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