Megan eyed her doubtfully. “So you’re okay? You’re not going to quit and leave me?”
Now that Jules’s heart had a chance to slow down, her fear seemed a little extreme for the basic questions the cop had been asking. She replayed their conversation in her mind and felt a little sheepish. There’d been nothing strange about his questions, considering she was new to town. Theo’s manner had been abrupt, but, from what Megan had said, that was his standard behavior. He doesn’t know, she tried to reassure herself. He doesn’t know, or you’d already be in handcuffs in the back of his car.
“Jules?” Megan’s voice rose. “Are you staying?”
Yanking herself out of her warring paranoia and common sense, she sent her boss a smile. “No. I mean, yes, I’m staying, and no, I’m not quitting. Shouldn’t we get back to the front now?”
“Yes,” Vicki’s testy voice answered from the grill. “Get out of my kitchen before I chop up your bony asses and add you to today’s chowder.”
Megan widened her eyes at Jules in a mock-terrified way, and Jules had to smother a laugh.
“We’re going,” Megan said, shooing Jules toward the front and following close behind. “Sorry, Vicki!” There was an only slightly mollified grunt behind them.
As soon as they emerged into the dining area, Jules shot a nervous glance toward Theo’s table and swallowed a groan. Now there were three cops waiting for her. Her shoulders drooped for a second before she stiffened her spine. There were four more occupied tables in her section, and Jules needed to get to work. Giving Megan a final tiny wave, Jules headed toward the new customers, grabbing a fresh coffeepot on the way.
Deciding to get the scariest table over with first, Jules forced herself not to slow as she approached the cops’ table. “’Morning.” She busied herself pouring coffee into the two new guys’ mugs. “What can I get you?” Proud that her voice had wobbled only slightly, she topped off Theo’s cup and then dared to look at the men.
That was a mistake.
They were all staring at her. Only the one Megan had called Hugh was smiling, but all three were watching her with assessing gazes. Jules gripped the handle of the coffeepot tighter. Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run, she repeated in her head. They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve done. Quit acting like an idiot.
She couldn’t help it. Panic was rising, threatening to blow off the top of her head. If her fingers squeezed the handle any harder, it was going to crumble to dust in her fist. “Sorry!” she blurted, knowing she was talking too fast but unable to stop. “Let me run and put the coffee back. I need two hands for my notebook and pen, since I’m still writing down orders. I’m sure I’ll be memorizing them soon, and I’ll know what you guys get without having to ask, but everything is new right now, since this is only my fourth day working here, so if you could just give me a minute…”
Sucking in a quick breath when she finally managed to pause, she took advantage of the cops’ startled reactions and darted toward her next table.
“Wait!” Hugh called after her, but she pretended not to hear as she smiled at the man sitting three booths down from the officers.
She started to raise the coffeepot to fill his mug, but she hesitated when she saw how hard it was vibrating. As she tried to calm her wild nerves, she focused on the man at the table. The best word to describe him was “nondescript.” Jules got the feeling that she could stare at him for hours, but even then she’d only be able to give the vaguest description of his features. Average height, average weight, washed-out hair and eyes that weren’t really any color at all, even features, and bland clothes. Forgettable. A study in beige. Looking at the man was almost soothing after the dramatic smack in the face that was Theo, with his flashing dark eyes, demanding questions, and muscular form. Shaking off the urge to peek over her shoulder, she forced a smile for the bland man. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” He gave his mug a small nudge in her direction. The beige stranger had a voice as unremarkable as the rest of him. “I’m Norman Rounds.”
“Jules,” she replied automatically as she poured his coffee. Although she hadn’t blurted out her last name, she still mentally reprimanded herself. Julie Jackson. Julie Jackson. Julie Jackson. Juliet Young was no more, and her family’s safety depended on her remembering that.
Norman’s voice brought her out of her head. “I’m visiting Monroe for the first time. Is there anything in particular I should see while I’m here?”
“Sorry.” With an apologetic grimace, she held her arms out in an I’ve-got-nothing gesture. “I just moved here, so I’m not much help. You could ask them.” Without actually looking at the cops, she tilted her head toward their table.