Forgive and Forget

“Yes? How can I help you, gentlemen?”

“Could we step outside for a moment?” The taller of the two men looked around the shop before returning his smile to Joe. He leaned in to speak quietly. “We don’t want to alarm your customers.”

“Um, sure.” Joe gave Bea’s arm a reassuring squeeze and followed the men out the front door onto the busy sidewalk. They stepped to one side, away from the shop window, and showed Joe their badges.

“Mr. Applin, I’m Detective Romero, and this is my partner, Detective McCrea, NYPD. We’re looking for a man we believe is in the area. He’s about six foot four, two hundred and ten pounds, black hair, gray eyes, and was last seen wearing dark jeans, black shirt, boots, and a leather jacket. Have you seen him?”

“A lot of folks come into my shop,” Joe replied, pretending to give the question real thought. What should he do? Maybe these men could help Tom. Or maybe they were here to arrest him. “Is this man in some kind of trouble?”

“I’m afraid we can’t disclose any information at this time, but he’s wanted for questioning. We just want to talk to him.”

Joe opened his mouth, but instead of the truth, he went with his gut. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen him. I would have remembered someone like that.” He gave them an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help, but if I see him I’ll certainly let you know. Do you have a card or number where I could reach you?”

The taller man smiled again. “No problem, Mr. Applin. We’ll be in touch. Thank you for your time.”

With a nod, the two walked off, murmuring to each other quietly. Something wasn’t sitting right with Joe. He casually went back inside and to the counter, where he finished ringing up a customer.

“Who were they?” Bea asked. “Looked like thugs to me.”

“They were asking for Tom,” Joe replied quietly as he removed his apron. “Would you and the kids close up for me, Bea? I need to have a word with Tom.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That I hadn’t seen him. I don’t trust those men.”

“Joe….”

It wasn’t like Bea to look so worried. He’d brought her enough worry over the years. He gave her cheek a kiss. “Don’t you worry, Bea. I’ll take care of it. It’ll be fine.”

Bea didn’t look happy about it, but she nodded and went back to work. Joe went into the kitchen where he found Tom and Donnie huddled together, smiling like a couple of kids.

“What are you two up to?”

Donnie glanced up with a huge grin. “Tom’s showing me how to do something.”

“Oh?”

Tom turned to Joe and held out his hand. “For you.”

Joe blinked down at the apple in Tom’s hand. Except it wasn’t just an apple. It had been carved into a rose.

“I don’t know what to say.” Joe took the apple and inspected it. Each petal had been sliced to perfection. “It’s… beautiful.” He felt like a bit of a jerk now. Tom looked happy and Joe was about to take that smile away. He had no choice. He had to let Tom know. “Thanks, Tom.” Joe couldn’t help the way his stomach filled with butterflies when Tom winked. “Could we go upstairs? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” Tom gave Donnie a gentle pat on the back. “Keep practicing. Elsie will love it.”

“Thanks, Tom.” Donnie beamed at him and went back to carving his apple.

Tom followed Joe upstairs to the apartment and into the kitchen. It was Joe’s favorite room and made him feel relaxed. He placed the apple in the center of his table and took a seat at the breakfast nook. Tom followed suit.

“Donnie’s a great kid. He’s crazy about Elsie. I told him he needs to take a shot at it or he’ll never know what could be.” Tom cocked his head to one side, his smile fading. “Everything okay, Joe?”

“Yeah, um, I don’t know. Two men came into the shop looking for you.”

Tom leaned in, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “What? Who?”

“They said they were detectives, showed me their badges. They described you, said you might be in the area, and asked if I’d seen you?”

Tom sat up. “What did you say?”

“That a lot of folks come into my shop. I asked if the man they were looking for was in trouble, and they said they couldn’t disclose that information. When I asked if they had a card or a number where I could contact them, they said it wasn’t a problem and they’d be in touch.”

“Did you ask them anything else?”

Joe frowned. “What else was I supposed to ask them?”

“Jesus, Joe. Anything. Something that might have helped me remember something.” Tom got to his feet and started pacing. “You could have asked them if they had a name. I could have had a name.”

“Oh.” The thought hadn’t occurred to Joe. “They seemed reluctant to give me any information about you other than your physical description. There’s a chance they might not have told me.”

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