“Oh! I’m sorry . . .” Trailing off, I slid a sideways glance in Miranda’s direction. She was studiously sipping her wine. That would’ve been great information to have on hand. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay.” Jason shrugged it off, but I wondered if that was true. He’d been a quiet and kind boy in college. Not overly sensitive, but he was someone who I pictured was in it for the long haul when he got married. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “What about you? Was there anyone you left behind in Atlanta?”
“No.” I picked up my wine. “No one I was serious with.”
“Cole stopped by and visited her Saturday night,” Miranda announced.
“Miranda,” I sighed, flipping my gaze to her.
Surprise flickered across Jason’s face. “Really?”
“Yep. He invited her out to dinner. She said no.” Miranda raised her wine glass at me. “I told her she should reevaluate that decision.”
What happened to her understanding if I didn’t want to go out with Cole? I guessed that hadn’t lasted beyond her first sip of wine.
“Huh.” Jason sat back, folding his arms loosely. “I had no idea Cole was still around here. Haven’t seen him in ages.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“He was a good guy, right?” Jason set his glass down. “And you seemed to really like him back then. Might be good to catch up with him. Not like it could hurt anything.”
I opened my mouth, but what could I say to that? He was right. Having dinner with Cole couldn’t hurt anything. I’d just needed to check the irrational fear, which was easier said than done.
A shadow fell over our table, and I looked up. The man from the other table, the one with the red tie, stood there. Up close, I pegged his age as midfifties. His face was losing its definition, softening at the jowls, and his brown hair thinning at the peak. His gaze, slightly beady, darted around our table and he nodded at Jason. “Hello, Mr. King and Ms. Locke.” His stare landed on me. “Miss Keeton?” he asked, his tone pitching high on my last name.
Who was this man?
I glanced over at Miranda, who eyed me over the rim of her wine glass. No help there. “Yes?”
He smiled tightly. “You don’t recognize me, do you? Understandable. It’s been a long time.”
My helpless gaze swung to Jason. He shifted to the side, away from the man. “This is Mark Hughes—Mayor Mark Hughes,” Jason explained.
“Hello.” I had no idea who Mark Hughes was, but he was the mayor, so I figured I should smile, and I did.
Mayor Hughes buttoned his blazer. “When you lived here, I owned the hardware shop in town. Still do, but a little busy these days to actually be running it.”
I did vaguely remember the hardware shop, but his face was pretty much still pulling up a blank, so I continued to smile as I nodded, and hoped my rib eye arrived soon.
“Such a surprise to hear that you were coming back to town. Your mother mentioned it when she was at the chamber of commerce meeting last week,” he explained, and I couldn’t fathom how or why that would’ve come up during a conversation with the mayor, but I guessed Mom had just been excited. “I’m hoping there won’t be any . . . issues with your return.”
“Issues?” I repeated, glancing around the table. “I’m not sure what kind of issues you’re referencing.”
“Well, you’re kind of a celebrity around these parts. At least to the media you are.” Mayor Hughes’ shoulders squared while I replayed what he’d just said to make sure I’d heard him correctly. “After all, you are this sensational real-life survivor story and I’m sure once some realize you’re here, they’d like to capitalize on that.” There was a pause. “Maybe you’d like to capitalize on that.”
Miranda cocked her head to the side, lowering her glass; it looked like she’d almost dropped it.
“Excuse me?” I said with a shocked laugh. The back of my neck tingled again, but it was a different feeling than nervousness. It was a wave of irritation.
“Mayor Hughes,” Jason started, placing one hand on the table. “Sasha isn’t—”
Raising a hand, I cut Jason off even though I appreciated his attempt to step in. I didn’t need someone speaking for me. “Nothing about what I experienced is what I’d consider sensational nor something I would want to relive, even if I were to profit from it.”
Mayor Hughes’ hollow cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”
I met his stare, because yes, he had offended me, and I wasn’t feeling very forgiving at the moment. Not when my stomach was grumbling.
He lowered his voice as he looked around. “I just don’t want the past being dragged back up, Miss Keeton. I think you’d appreciate that.”
“You’re doing a fine job at not dragging the past up yourself,” Miranda pointed out with a sarcastic smile. “Just want to throw that out there.”
Mayor Hughes ignored her comment. “Our town suffered greatly with the whole Groom business—”
“The town suffered?” Another weird laugh was bubbling up my throat.
“And it took years to erase the stigma and fear,” he continued. “I don’t want to see us losing ground because of one wrong well-meaning conversation with the wrong person.”
My mouth dropped open. Did he honestly believe that I’d speak to anyone in the press about what happened when I hadn’t given one interview in my entire life?
“I’ll leave you all to your dinner,” Mayor Hughes said, backing away. “Have a nice evening.”
Miranda raised her middle finger when he turned his back but chirped happily, “You too!”
“Jesus,” I muttered, picking up my glass. I downed half the wine in a nanosecond. “That guy’s a dick.”
“He’s normally pretty laid-back, but I think he’s a little overstressed right now,” Jason commented. “Especially after what happened this morning.”
“Jason,” Miranda warned in a low voice.
I frowned as I glanced between them. “What?”
“Nothing.” He cast his gaze to his wine glass.
“What happened this morning?” Sitting forward, I plopped my elbows on the table. “Come on. You have to finish what you’re saying.”
“I don’t know.” Jason arched his brows as he ran his finger down the stem of his glass. “Miranda might smack me.”
“I might smack you anyway,” she shot back with a shake of her head.
“What, Jason?” I persisted, ignoring the familiar teasing tone between them.
Sighing, he looked up at her as she pursed her lips. “She’s going to hear about it anyway,” he said. “You know that.”
“But it doesn’t mean she needs to hear about it right now.” Miranda picked up her glass and downed the contents. Placing the glass on the table, she met my stare. Dread crept down my spine. “Especially after all of that.”
“Actually,” I said slowly, getting more irritated, “I want to hear about it right now.”
“A woman went missing out of Frederick at the beginning of the month,” he explained, repeating what I’d already heard on the radio. “Did you know about that?”