Someday Never Comes

Chapter Fourteen

For a guy who didn't have time for coffee, Jamie was amazingly quick to go home and make coffee. From a safe vantage point at the table I watched him slam around the hotel's tiny kitchen; pouring water and measuring grounds like they'd offended some tenet of his religion. By then he'd been chain smoking for a solid twenty minutes.

I was distracted, only half paying attention, had been since we got back. My brain kept zigzagging back to my first night spent in the hotel. The mess in the alley. The boot tracks in the dirt. It was a long, pessimistic stretch, but what can I say? I'm just cynical like that.

The crack of the coffee pot's lid slamming shut snapped me out of my musings.

"You're going to break that thing," I told him.

He gave me a huff, literally fuming; trails of smoke filtering through his teeth as he exhaled.

Dana, laying in her usual spot in front of the stove, flattened her ears in back in alarm. I think if I hadn't been so morbidly fascinated by seeing a genuine strong emotion on Jamie's features, I'd have shared her sentiment.

I wanted to ask him what his deal was; why he'd gone rushing off to the cafe owner's rescue only to wig out at the end. Not that being a good samaritan needed questioning, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he'd exceeded normal neighborly concern levels in the heat of the moment.

Instead of asking any of that, I said, trying for levity, "You and Iron Chef know each other?"

"It's a small town," he said and didn't elaborate. The muscles in his jaw were so tight, I half expected to hear the grind of teeth.

"She seemed nice. Hard to believe she spawned you know who."

That at least got him to stop scowling.

"I don't get Katie," he unbent enough to say. "Back in the day she seemed," he paused, searching for the right words. "Normal? Well adjusted? But then we were, well-"

"Teenagers?"

"Yeah."

"So in relatives terms then."

Finally a smile. A thin, twitchy one, but still. "I guess so," he said.

"I didn't realize you'd known each other that long," I said. That was a lie. I'd sensed a personal undercurrent in the way they'd argued that day in the lobby.

Jamie jerkily stubbed out his cigarette in the sink, lit yet another. "We were actually friends. Hard to picture that now."

"Not really," I said. "You've got that same wild child vibe she does. The difference is you've got a handle on it."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Me, wild. Hah."

"Oh come on, Worth. Like you took two days off to going antiquing."

He couldn't argue with that.

"What if this has something to do with her?" he said, clamping down on the sheepish smile that had started curling his lip. He wanted to be keep being angry, but I knew I was winning. "The fire, I mean," he added, turning thoughtful.

"What, like, Katie has a run-in with somebody and they try to torch her mother's restaurant as payback?"

I didn't buy it, and told him so.

"Not saying it couldn't happen," I amended. "But it seems like a lot of effort. Most people, they throw a rock through a window, they spray paint something on a wall. Setting a fire is..."

"Too extreme for Joe Average?"

"Exactly. Just for starters, it looks like they knew the building was ocupado, agreed?"