***
Logan sat outside Tess’ café for over half an hour. He knew she lived in the apartment above her café. He’d overheard her telling one of her friends about the color she’d painted her living room. He also knew she liked hot chocolate, raspberry muffins and going to the movies. What she didn’t like were reporters. Or more specifically, reporters with runaway mouths and limited amounts of common sense.
His sister and niece had gone back to Seattle. He felt like an idiot, making Tess out to be something she wasn’t. It had started out as fun, but soon fell into bad joke status.
He should have known better.
Sitting in his truck wasn’t going to change what he needed to do. It was getting late and he didn’t even know if she was home. He opened his door and walked across the sidewalk. He looked at the wall beside the front door and frowned. No bell.
He stepped off the sidewalk and walked toward his truck; staring at the windows above the café. He might have to find a stone, throw it at one of the glass panes and hope like crazy he didn’t break it. But before he did that, he’d try to find another entrance.
Angel Wings Café shared its Main Street location with a craft store, a florist, a bookstore and a women’s fashion boutique. Each of the buildings were old, maybe over a hundred years old. They were connected by a pale blue porch and matching hanging baskets full of flowers.
He walked past the fashion boutique and turned right down a narrow driveway. He guessed the owners of the stores used the area behind their businesses for parking, but right now no one was coming and going. There was enough room for about ten vehicles, a delivery truck if they were lucky. But parking space wasn’t why he was here.
Along the back wall of each building was a fire escape. Tess’ building had a permanent metal staircase going all the way from ground level to the second floor.
He took a deep breath and headed up the stairs.
Tess answered the door on his second knock. She had her cell phone against her ear, talking to someone on the phone. When she saw him, her cheeks turned red and she frowned.
Yeah, he thought. She wanted him standing at her back door about as much as he wanted to be there.
“I’ll call you back soon.” She disconnected the call and stared at him.
“I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have given my sister the impression you were my girlfriend.”
The frown on Tess’ face didn’t disappear and he couldn’t blame her. She probably had men dropping at her feet every day. At six foot tall, she wasn’t the type of person you easily overlooked. And with a pretty face, shoulder length blonde hair and cornflower-blue eyes, she was a knockout.
She started to say something, then thought better of it. “Apology accepted. I hope you told your sister the truth when you got to the airport.”
“I told her we’re friends.”
Tess’ frown deepened. “You know what she’s going to think, don’t you?”
“That we’re friends?” he said hopefully.
“Only if she doesn’t care one way or the other, and I didn’t get the feeling she was that type of person.”
Tess didn’t know how right she was. Jacqui cared about everyone in their family. Deeply. Sometimes his sister and mom were the only two people who kept him sane.
“If you get a call from your mom, I refuse to wear a tulle wedding dress. It makes my hips look as wide as a bus.”
He looked down at Tess’ hips. He could imagine a lot of things her hips could look like, but a bus didn’t come close. Then his brain caught up with his hormones. “Wedding?”
Tess crossed her arms in front of her chest. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Have you had a serious girlfriend in the last three years?”
He shook his head and tried to figure out where she was going. “I’ve been busy working. But if you think mom’s desperate for me to get married, you’re wrong.”
“You could be right. But don’t be surprised if you get a call from her tonight.”
His mom would call tonight, anyway. But she wouldn’t leap on what his sister might or might not say. He wasn’t ready to share his life with anyone and his mom knew that better than most.
He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping. “This was sitting with the muffins you dropped off. Has it got anything to do with why you came to see me?”
Tess looked at the clipping and nodded. “I wanted to ask you some questions about the couple in the article. Do you want to come inside?”
He followed Tess into her apartment. It was bigger than he’d imagined it would be. With a high ceiling and peach colored walls, it made the most of the natural light coming in the windows. He sat on a sofa and looked at the kitchen. It was a throwback to the nineteen fifties.
If the red Formica counter and old-fashioned fridge didn’t make him think he’d stepped back in time, the posters would have done it. A framed collection of vintage ice cream posters hung on the wall behind the kitchen.
Tess must have noticed his interest.
“My grandparents owned this building. They had an ice cream parlor here for twenty years.” She sat down opposite him. “Do you want a drink? I could make you a cup of coffee.”
He shook his head. “I’m okay.”
Tess wiped her hands down the legs of her jeans. “Annie read the Bozeman Chronicle today. She saw the article you wrote about the young couple who had all of their belongings stolen.”
Logan had interviewed them last week. It was the kind of story his editor called a human interest story. But there was nothing interesting about the empty house they’d come home to. They hadn’t had much to start with and this had been another blow they didn’t need.
“The police still haven’t caught the thieves,” he said.
“They’re getting married in two weeks’ time. We thought we could help.”
“We?”
“Annie, Molly, Sally, and me. We’ve got lots of bridesmaids’ dresses between us. We could give the bride four dresses for her wedding.”
He didn’t know what to say. “Why would you do that?”
“Because she needs our help. But we don’t know who she is or where she lives. I was hoping you’d be able to…”
“I can’t.” Logan sat back in his chair. “They asked me not to tell anyone their real names.”
Tess’ mouth dropped open. “So they aren’t Estelle and Darren?”
He shook his head. “Not even close. I wish I could help you, but they didn’t want anyone knowing who they were. I guess they were embarrassed.”
“If we don’t find them soon it will be too late to give them the dresses.”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Can you tell us where they live or where they work?”
“I can’t, I’m sorry. They didn’t want me to disclose their personal information.”
Tess crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Do you know how annoying you are?”
Logan held back his laughter. “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me. But I still can’t tell you anything about them.”
“There must be something you could tell me. We’ve only got two weeks before their wedding. It was two weeks, right?”
Logan ran his hand across his mouth. “I supposed I could say yes. But I can’t answer any more questions.”
Tess stood up and grabbed her bag. “What if you don’t say anything? I could ask you some questions and you could say yes or no.” She flipped open her notebook and waited for his answer.
With her blue eyes staring at him, he was having trouble saying anything. “Fine. But I’m not answering any questions that are marginal.”
Tess took a deep breath. “Okay, that’s good. I can work with that.” She looked in her notebook. “Question one. Do the bride and groom-to-be live in Bozeman?”
“Yes.”
“Are they between twenty and twenty-five years old?”
> “Yes.”
Tess scribbled down something, then kept going. “Are they getting married in a church?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know?”
“I was there to interview them about the burglary, not their wedding.”
Tess looked disappointed. “So you’ve got no idea where they’re getting married?”
“No idea.”
“Do you know what time they’re getting married?”
“No.”
“What kind of reporter are you?”
“A good one.” He laughed at the growl coming from her throat.
“Can you tell me the mother of the bride’s name?”
“Good try, but I’m not telling.”
Tess closed her notebook. “This is ridiculous. Is there anything you can say to help us find the couple?”
“Not unless you’ve got more questions for me?” He watched Tess skim through the other notes she’d made.
“There’s nothing here that you’ll be able to answer. I need a milkshake.”
She went to the kitchen and pulled a tub of ice cream out of the freezer. “Do you want one?”
“No, thanks.” Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a milkshake. He walked to the kitchen and watched Tess. She poured milk into a metal cup, dropped in a couple of scoops of ice cream, then squirted some kind of flavoring on the top.
She looked up and grinned. “I’m a vanilla girl. Grandpa’s favorite was lime and grandma liked peppermint. What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Caramel.”
“A sweet tooth.” She clipped the metal cylinder under the milkshake machine. “This is an original 1950’s Hamilton Beach triple-head blender.”
She grinned as she increased the speed on the machine. It was like watching a little girl open her Christmas presents from Santa. She was totally smitten with the machine.
“Okay. I’ll have a milkshake,” he yelled over the noise of the blender.
Tess nodded and put another cup under the beaters. Within minutes she had both cups sitting on the counter. She dropped a straw into each one and smiled. “When I got home from school I used to work in the ice cream parlor with grandpa. He always had a thick vanilla milkshake waiting for me.”
“Sounds like a great grandpa.” Logan watched Tess’ face soften.
“He was. He always said he could judge a person by the flavor of the milkshake they ordered.”
“What did he say about people who like caramel?”
Tess smiled. “That would be giving away his secrets. Let’s just say I take grandpa’s personality test very seriously.” She sucked a mouthful of milkshake through the straw. “Tell me if you like it.”
Logan drunk some of his milkshake. It was cold, thick and sweet. Everything a good milkshake should be. “It’s great. You should sell them in your café.”
“I’ve got another machine in the kitchen downstairs, but not many people drink milkshakes.”
“You could advertise them, start a revival. An old fashioned milkshake in a heritage building.”
Tess shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll think about it. So how am I going to find Ms. Bride and Mr. Groom?”
Logan pulled a red vinyl stool out from the counter and sat down. “I could go for a drive.”
“How’s that going to help me?”
He kept drinking his milkshake. “I’ve always enjoyed going for a Sunday morning drive.”
“You’re not making much sense. Unless…”
A smile worked its way across her face. He had a feeling the sugar in her milkshake might have contributed to her state of bliss more than his words, but he’d take it anyway.
“If someone followed you, on your Sunday morning drive, it wouldn’t break any confidentiality issues.”
Logan shrugged. “I’m going for a drive. Anyone can follow me.”
“And how many times would you stop?”
“Just once.”
Tess sat beside him and rested her chin on her hand. “What time do you like leaving on your Sunday morning drives?”
“I could drive past the café at about ten o’clock.”
“Ten would work. But don’t get any ideas about where this might be going. I’m using you for information.”
“Nice to know you’re honest,” Logan muttered. “You’ve got to promise me that the drive will be low key. You can’t do anything that will make the bride go running to my editor.”
“Of course I won’t,” Tess said. “I’ll be so discreet that no one will ever know I’ve been near her home.”
Logan had a feeling she might be over-exaggerating her super sleuth abilities, but he couldn’t do much about it now. He pushed his empty milkshake cup away and stood up. “Tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock.”
“Yes, sir.” Tess followed him to her back door and held it open. “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate your help.”
“Once you know where they live you can do the rest on your own.”
“That’s all I need.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow in my rearview mirror.” He left Tess’ apartment feeling happy. It was so different to how he normally felt that he almost didn’t recognize it. But it was there all the same.
Tess Williams, the woman most likely to annoy him, had made him happy. And he was damned if he knew why.