LITMIR.BIZ

      Michael finished the last bite of his sandwich and had to admit the chicken was tender and spiced to perfection. However, after the exhausting day he’d spent driving without stopping to eat, anything would have tasted good.

      The waitress with Josie printed on her name tag jangled as she hurried toward his table, waving a slip of paper. “I’ve got your check right here.”

      She certainly was trying to rush him out the door.

      He wasn’t budging. “I think I’d like some dessert. What’s the chef making today?”

      The woman snorted a laugh. “Chef? If Bud over there is a chef, I’ll eat my orthopedic shoes.”

      He glanced down at the old-lady shoes, which suited her personality about as well as a tiara on her head would. “Believe me, Josie, I had already deduced he wasn’t trained at Le Cordon Bleu.”

      She smiled, but the tilt of her brows made her seem confused. She touched her name tag. “You know my name. What’s yours?”

      “Michael Throckmorton.”

      “Well, you’re a funny man, Mike.”

      “It’s Michael. I’ve never been called Mike.”

      “But Michael sounds so stuffy.”

      “Maybe I am stuffy. Now, what’s on the dessert menu today?”

      With a mischievous gleam in her eye, she parked one hip on the edge of his table, leg swinging, and pointed to the far wall. “The dessert menu’s on that chalkboard. Same today as yesterday and every day for the past year or so. Pecan pie, apple pie or chocolate cake?”

      “Make it apple, with black coffee.”

      “I figured you for an apple-pie man. Coming right up.”

      Now what was that supposed to mean? “Would you please ask Bud to come take a look at this picture of Lisa when he gets a moment?”

      “He’s real busy. But I’ll try.” She shoved her pencil, not behind her ear this time, but into her bird’s nest of a hairdo, then moved to wait on another table where she flirted with two men in dirty work clothes.

      In observing her at a distance, he decided that somehow, miraculously, she equaled a whole lot more than the sum of her parts. Extreme jewelry, plus funky hair and rubber-soled shoes equaled…attractive waitress.

      How could that possibly be?

      When Josie returned with Michael’s pie and coffee, she slid into the booth across from him. She blew a pink bubble, then popped it with a loud snap. “So, tell me about you and your niece. Are you helping her parents search for her?”

      He lifted Lisa’s photograph and stared at the innocent, trusting smile. A smile that used to come so easily before her mother’s drinking had gotten out of hand.

      “My sister, Patricia, was a single mom. She died in a car accident a year ago.”

      “Oh, no. Don’t tell me it was a drunk driver.”

      “Yes. Her.” Way to go, Throckmorton. Tell her your life history, why don’t you?

      His unintentional revelation was greeted with silence. And a pitying look—which he detested.

      “Anyway, she specified in her will that I be named guardian,” he added.

      “Why’d she pick you?”

      He bristled. “Why not me?”

      “Well, you appear to be single.” She waggled her left ring finger. “No ring.”

      Yes, he was single. Definitely single since Gloria had dumped him. “An unmarried man can be a suitable guardian.”

      “I didn’t say you were unsuitable. I’m just wondering why she chose you.”

      Josie was acting a little too interested. As if she was stalling.

      The longer this woman gave him the runaround, the more likely it was he would be stuck in Gatlinburg, missing his appointment with Tom Mason. And Throckmorton’s Bank needed Mason’s company to take out that construction loan.

      He checked his watch. “You know, I really want to find her and get back to Charleston. I have an important meeting tomorrow. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

      “So this is all about getting back to your important meeting, huh?”

      He sighed. This woman was impossible. Since when was it a crime to work hard? “No. It’s about making sure my niece is safe. About getting her back to school—and round-the-clock supervision—where she belongs before she makes a stupid mistake.” Like her mother made sixteen years ago.

      “What kind of mistake?”

      “Some of her friends thought she might have left with an older boy. A troublemaker.”

      Josie thought about her one encounter with the troublemaker boyfriend and said a quick prayer of thanks that the creep had ditched Lisa and hit the road—even if he had “borrowed” her car.

      She figured another prayer for guidance wouldn’t be a bad idea either since Michael Throckmorton didn’t seem as awful as Lisa had made him out to be. In fact, he seemed downright concerned. Except for wanting to get back for a meeting. That bothered her.

      But maybe she should at least let him know Lisa was safe.

      But then Lisa would feel betrayed and might run again.

      What a mess.

      “You know, Mike, if you’ll hang around until I’m off tonight, I might be able to help you.”

      His all-business, I’m-in-a-hurry-to-get-out-of-here scowl lit with a hint of hope. “I knew it. You do know where Lisa is.”

      “Order’s up,” Bud called.

      What should she do? Mike obviously cared for his niece. Maybe he just didn’t know how to show it. “Okay, I admit I’ve met her, and I can tell you she’s safe. But she doesn’t want to see you.”

      He winced at the truth. “She’s made that fairly clear.”

      Bud impatiently clanged the little service bell and nodded toward a customer. “Hamburger’s getting cold.”

      “Look, I need to get back to work. I’m pulling a double, so I don’t get off till ten.”

      She hopped up and went to pick up the order, but when she turned to take it to the table, she glimpsed the back of Mike’s broad back as he disappeared through the swinging door into the kitchen.

      By the time she caught up to him, he stood alone in the middle of the spick-and-span room. Lisa was nowhere in sight.

      “She’s not here.” He sounded deflated.

      “No. But like I said, she’s safe.”

      He zeroed in on the exit leading to the alley. “If I don’t find her, I’ll meet you outside at ten. But I expect some answers.” In four strides of his long legs, he was out the door, his head snapping left and right to search the darkening alley.

      Bud stuck his head into the kitchen, saw the intruder was gone and said, “She left with Brian after he delivered the bread.”

      “Do you have any idea where they went?”

      “No.”

      A flutter of panic beat against Josie’s chest. “What if she ran again?”

      A

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