Explosive Secrets. Valerie Hansen
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that’s all it is. Big Lou is already complaining because she’s late again. He’s gonna have a cow if she can’t work tonight.”
Jackson turned his attention back to Nicolette as the waitress left. He bent and held out the glass of water. “Here. Drink this.”
“I’m not thirsty.” She tried to rise, getting only partway to her feet before she plopped back down on the spongy green seat. “Uh-oh. Still dizzy.”
“Let me take you to the E.R. for a checkup. You may be feeling the effects of the blast.”
“No way. If I don’t work, I don’t eat. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” She grimaced. “Sure wish I didn’t have to deal with all the strong odors in that kitchen, though. Seems like everything makes me queasy these days.”
“That’s normal, isn’t it?”
“So they say. It’s just a bummer to work around food when even the thought of it makes you sick.”
Jackson had to smile at her wry expression and the way she accepted her new limitations. “I can see where that might be a drawback.”
A hard tap on his shoulder diverted his attention. He straightened, instinctively resting his palm on the butt of his holstered gun as he faced the burly, stubble-chinned man who had joined them. “Yes?”
The man cocked his head toward Nicolette. “She gonna work or not?”
Nicki was quick to reply, “Of course I am, Lou.”
“Then get into the kitchen. I don’t pay you to sit around entertaining cops.”
Jackson wanted to defend the young woman by explaining what had happened to her earlier, but figured she didn’t want or need his help. It was clear from her demeanor that she was used to facing down her taciturn boss. If she wanted this Lou character to know about the threats and the explosion, she’d tell him.
“I’m going to go have a look around the parking lot,” Jackson explained, “and see if I notice anything out of the ordinary. You couldn’t tell what startled you?”
“No. I thought there was a funny shadow back by the trash bins. I assumed it was a man. Since you didn’t see anybody, maybe there was nothing there. I have been awfully jumpy lately.”
“That’s understandable.” He took a slow step backward. “Will you be okay or do you want me to hang around for a while longer?”
“I’m fine.” Pushing away from the worn, Formica-topped table, she swiveled and stood next to the booth. A relieved smile spread across her face and she held out her arms. “See? Perfect. Not dizzy at all.”
“Good. I’ll be in the neighborhood. Just call if you need help again and be sure to let us know when you’re ready to go home. We’ll have an officer stop by to escort you.” Jackson eyed the portly man in the stained apron, bid him a terse “Good day” and turned to go.
He was halfway to the exit before he glanced back. The man called Lou was in the lead.
Head held high, back straight, Nicolette followed him through a swinging, half door into the busy, steamy kitchen.
Jackson paused. Found himself wishing he could help her more. But how? As things stood, it was highly likely that she was embroiled in her cousin’s confusing transgressions whether she knew it or not. Therefore, unless she could prove that she and Arianna had had no contact at all, she was going to continue to be of interest to many folks.
On both sides of the law.
If she’d thought her life was complicated before, she was probably going to discover that her ordeal was just beginning.
THREE
Nicolette tried to breathe shallowly as she entered the crowded, overheated kitchen. Steam rose from stainless-steel pots simmering on the stove, and filled the air with pungent odors.
A tall, thin guy she didn’t recognize was standing at the grill, flipping burgers. Judging by how stained his apron was, he’d been there for some time.
Grabbing a clean, white apron from a waiting stack, she slipped the top loop over her head, crossed the strings in the back and tied them in front at her waist.
Her eyes met Lou’s. She nodded toward the man at the grill. “Who’s that?”
“My sister’s boy.” His graying eyebrows arched as he gave her the once-over through rheumy eyes. “Had to get him to fill in for you a couple of nights ago and he worked out real good. What’s wrong with you, anyways? You look kinda peaked.”
“I’m fine,” Nicki insisted. “Just had a really rough morning.” She swallowed hard, fighting the stomach upset that kept sneaking up on her. Pregnancy wasn’t predictable the way she’d assumed it would be. There seemed to be no way to avoid occasional waves of nausea, yet at other times her mood might soar for no apparent reason.
“Life ain’t easy for any of us, missy. You man the grill while my nephew takes his break,” Lou ordered.
“Okay. No problem.” Nicki said it automatically. Only she was not okay. Not even close. Her stomach was roiling, and she wondered how long she was going to be able to control herself.
The new cook started to pass her the spatula.
Nicki reached for it, noticed it was dripping with yellowed, half-congealed grease. Uh-oh.
Spinning, she raced for the ladies’ room.
Lou was waiting in the hallway when she finally emerged. His hairy, tattooed forearms were folded across his chest and he was glaring at her. “Well?”
“I just needed a quick break, myself, that’s all.”
“Tell you what,” he drawled. “You can have a long break. A permanent one, starting now. You’re fired.”
“But...”
The man already had his back to her.
“Wait, please, Lou. I need this job.”
He turned and gave her a once-over. “Yeah? So why were you late again today?”
“There was trouble in my neighborhood this morning. I had to stay until the cops said I could leave.”
“Okay...suppose I buy that. How come you keep complaining you’re sick all the time?”
“Not all the time. Honest. I just can’t help it.” Hoping the truth about her pregnancy would soften his heart she blurted out, “I’m going to have a baby.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I figured. Like I said, you’re done here. Pick up your final check on Friday.”
“No, please. How am I going to survive?”
“Should of thought of that before you messed around and got caught.”
Left alone in the dingy hallway, Nicki leaned against the wall. She felt as drained as if she’d just run a marathon. What was she going to do now? Her bills were already steep, thanks to her conniving former fiancé, Bobby Lee Crawford, and his liberal use of her credit cards without her knowledge. She was behind in the rent, too. Not to mention how expensive it was going to be to repair the damage she imagined had been done to her apartment and her furniture. Those repairs were likely to cost a lot more than she had in the bank, which was pretty much nothing.
Untying the apron, she wadded it into a ball and threw it onto a chair as she stomped out of the truck stop. What a day this had already been. She could hardly wait to see what other disheartening surprises awaited her.
This was not how life was supposed to be when a person became a Christian, was it? She had no idea but she was certainly going to ask Pastor Eaton the next time she saw him. Instead of life getting easier, it seemed as if her problems had become a lot more complicated since she’d turned to Jesus for help, asked for