"You're welcome, sweetheart. Your mom deserved the best." Molly straightened the edge of the tablecloth thoughtfully before turning toward Lexie. "I know this is not the place for business talk but soon we need to discuss the fact that this..." Molly waved around the diner, "...is yours now. I have to admit that for the mean time we have this place covered, but none of us are qualified to run this place like she did."

Lexie hadn't even thought of it until now. She had been too distracted with the loss of her mother to consider what it meant. "Yes, of course."

Molly smiled and took her hands in hers. "She loved this place, didn't she?" Molly said.

"Yes, she did."

"We're all here for you, Lexie," Molly said.

"Thank you, Molly, I really appreciate it."

"It's good to see Stephanie and Evan looking well. The three of you have seen so much pain."

Lexie placed her hand on Molly's arm. "We find strength in each other."

"Yes, you always have, haven't you," Molly said thoughtfully. "You have very interesting additions to your group, if you don't mind me saying."

Lexie looked over at Jackson, who was watching her from across the room, next to the rest of them. They really stood out in the crowd.

"Interesting is a good way to describe them." Lexie grinned. "They've become very close to my heart."

"Let's get you all fed before everyone starts to talk your ear off."

Molly served them up a piece of warm apple pie with a large helping of ice cream. Once Teddy took a bite, he was asking Molly to marry him. Molly turned as red as her hair and absolutely loved the attention.

Lexie lost track of how many people she had spoken to. There were so many people in the small town that stopped in to offer their condolences over the course of the afternoon. It wasn't long before she was emotionally exhausted from the ups and downs of revisiting old memories.

When the kitchen staff became overwhelmed, Cherry grabbed an ap.r.o.n and stepped in. No one knew quite what to make of her at first as she began directing people around the kitchen to better utilize the s.p.a.ce and their efforts. Before long, the kitchen was running smoothly and everyone was warming up to Cherry. Lexie soon learned that Cherry's talent for cooking extended toward managing a kitchen as well. She was a natural as she worked her way around the s.p.a.ce. Molly was grateful for the help with the extra rush of customers. Her big personality seemed very compatible with the other staff and she quickly earned their respect. There were a few ignorant customers that mumbled under their breath, but Lexie knew their small town had its backwards people who would never change.

Lexie shook her head and smiled when a few of the local single girls moved in on the fresh meat. Poor Dane, Teddy, and Jackson didn't know what they were in for when the women came with their claws sharpened. The small town options were slim and they didn't realize that these women didn't waste any time before they were about ready to brawl each other for the front of the line.

Though she had to give the guys credit, they certainly knew how to handle themselves around women. Jackson had the alpha-male persona, Teddy was the charmer, Dane was the tortured soul, and Nate had a boy-next-door thing going on. They were like a romance novel come to life.

Lexie spun around in her chair when the front door swung open and rattled on its hinges from the force. Mike came sauntering in with his shirt mis-b.u.t.toned and his tie hanging from his neck. His bloodshot eyes narrowed when they fell on Stephanie sitting beside Nate on the bar stools.

"Oh s.h.i.t," Stephanie mumbled under her breath. "This won't be good."

Lexie hopped off her stool and approached Mike. Most people noticed his entrance and the sight of him brought most conversations to a standstill.

"Mike," Lexie acknowledged when she came to stand a few feet from him. She could smell the liquor on his breath.

"Lexie." He tilted his head and raked his eyes over her. "You look f.u.c.kable. What do you say?"

Jackson tried to step around Lexie but she held her hand up. Jackson looked ready to start swinging and this was the last place she was going to let a fight break out.

"It's best if you leave, Mike," Lexie demanded.

"I got this, honey." Molly swooped in and grabbed Mike by the arm. "Let's go outside to talk," she said before waving to one of the other waitresses. "Package up a piece of pie for Mikey, will you, dear?"

Mike didn't put up much of a fight as Molly led him outside. He looked like he was barely able to walk in a straight line. Lexie watched through the window as Molly spoke to him. She had a way with people that made them put their guard down. Lexie was grateful she stepped in because she had no patience for Mike right now.

Luckily he didn't return inside the diner. One of the men attending offered to take him home and he went without a scene. Lexie watched him stumble into the truck and then drive away. She felt her shoulders drop with relief. Mike always had a temper on him that got him into trouble. He was unpredictable, especially when alcohol was in the mix. He obviously wasn't taking the break up with Stephanie very well. She had a sinking suspicion that this was not the end of it.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

John "It's healing nicely," Dr. Collins said as he removed the bandage on John's side.

"Good." John was sitting on the edge of the bed; a cigar in one hand and a drink in the other. He placed the cigar in his mouth and paid no mind to the fact that the smoke seemed to bother the doctor. Dr. Collins waved the cloud from his face before tossing the soiled bandages into the garbage can.

"How's the pain?" the doctor asked, pushing his gla.s.ses up his nose with his forearm.

"Don't notice much, to be honest," John answered with a casual frown.

"Well, I suppose the liquor helps with the pain management," the doctor said with a raised brow.

"I suppose it does," John said defiantly as he tipped the gla.s.s to his lips. The doctor had recommended he not drink while in recovery but John never did pay attention to things that did not suit his desires.

Dr. Collins had been John's personal physician for years and John knew he appreciated his paycheck and would not risk falling on John's bad side. Everyone close to John knew that they didn't want to cross into such waters or bad fortune would find them.

A knock on the door captured their attention. Rayner walked in, his expression subdued. "Rosh is here to see you, boss," he said.

"Good." John drained his gla.s.s before setting it down. He stood up and grabbed his shirt from the back of a chair.

"I'm not done with your new dressings," Dr. Collins complained, throwing his hands up in frustration.

John ignored the doctor and stalked out of the room, following Rayner. He was anxious for word on Mary and Lexie. Having to lay low meant he was cut off from most of his sources of information for the time being. He hated being confined and unable to conduct business as usual.

The club was coming along nicely. The construction had a few setbacks, but now the finishing touches were near completion. The smell of paint filled the interior as the workers were finishing the black trim in the hallways that led to the private rooms. Most of the furniture had been delivered and the bar was being stocked for the soft opening for the preferred customers.

Rayner led him down the hallway toward the offices, tucked away from the main area. Rosh was seated in one of the armchairs when he walked into the room. He looked a bit unraveled, indicating that Rosh was about to deliver unwanted news. John nodded for Rayner to leave them in privacy before he swung the door shut.

"Let's have it," John demanded without offering any pleasantries.

"Wherever Mary had stashed the information, I know for certain it hasn't fallen into the wrong hands. Maybe she had gotten rid of it. If either departments Belhaven or Westford had a lead about the information, I would know about it."

John narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What of Mary?" John had been angry with himself for injuring her. Shooting her had merely been a reflex, one he wished he had not been forced to do.

Rosh loosened his tie around his neck. "She didn't make it," Rosh confessed, clearly uncomfortable with delivering the news.

John could feel every muscle in his body tighten. "What do you mean she didn't make it?"

"Complications," Rosh said, unb.u.t.toning the top of his shirt to loosen his collar. "I'm sorry, John. As soon as I found out where she had been taken, I went to find out her condition. She was already gone when I arrived."

"Leave me," John demanded.

"We need to talk about Masten. How do we know he won't say anything? It's only a matter of time before the connection is made."

"Leave!" John withdrew his gun and shoved it in Rosh's face. He watched the sheen of sweat break out across the man's forehead as he pressed it into Rosh's cheek. "I said to f.u.c.king leave me."

Rosh stumbled backwards and knocked a chair over before he grabbed the door handle. He left without another word, leaving John in much needed solitude.

John had convinced himself that the wound had not been fatal. He had shot countless people over the years and knew a fatal shot when he took one, but this completely blindsided him. He wasn't expecting Rosh to deliver the news his Mary was dead. Rage boiled hot in his stomach. He had only just gotten her back. She was supposed to be here with him. She wasn't supposed to leave his side again. He had killed her.

John hit a box off the desk that was sitting in the middle of the room. The contents scattered over the floor. A vase shattered, spraying gla.s.s amongst the litter of paper and picture frames.

It wasn't enough to satisfy his need to destroy something. He wanted to leave nothing untouched. John grabbed the desk chair and swung it at the desk. The large piece of furniture sc.r.a.ped along the floor with the impact. Over and over he swung until the chair was destroyed and fell apart in his hands.

John looked down at the blood coating his fingers, his outburst had torn his flesh and left his hands bleeding but he felt no pain. He had opened the wound on his stomach. The blood began to soak through his white shirt and yet he felt nothing but a deep, dark anger that consumed him from the inside out.

John opened the door and noticed Rayner on the other side. He stepped back as John exited the room. "Send someone in to clean up the mess," John said as he walked past.

"Yes, boss."

John headed back to his room. The doctor had left while he was gone and the room was now empty. John needed to be alone. He loosened his tie and pulled it free before he opened the closet and hung it up with his other ties, making sure it was hanging properly before he closed the doors. John glanced at the full length mirror and untucked his shirt. Lifting it up, he took a look at his wound. The bleeding looked like it had stopped.

The sound of a phone ringing in the bathroom reminded him that Rebecca was here. He heard her answer her phone and her shrill laughter following as she conversed with whoever was on the other end of the line.

John opened the bathroom door, letting it swing until it hit the wall. He stood in the doorframe and looked at Rebecca in the tub filled with bubbles. The entire room smelled like a mixture of flowers from whatever scented product she had filled the tub with.

"I'm gonna have to call ya back," Rebecca said to whoever she was talking to. She hit end and set the phone down on the edge of the tub. "Do you need me?" Rebecca asked slowly. She wrapped her arms around herself as she waited for his answer. She had grown to fear him as of late. The only thing he sought her for was to relieve his frustrations, and this proved to be beyond her limits. Her skin showed his handiwork as she clung to herself. He could see the fear in her eyes.

John didn't respond as he walked into the washroom, his eyes never leaving hers. Everything about her now reminded him that he had put up with her because she had been the closest thing he had to Mary. Then for a brief moment in time he had Mary back, and Rebecca faded into the background. Now he saw her again. Now she was all he could see, and she was a sad subst.i.tute for what he really wanted.

John sat down on the edge of the tub and gently ran his fingers along the skin of her arm.

"What happened to your hands?" she asked hesitantly.

"Shhh..." John said as he dipped his hand under the surface of the water. He welcomed the sting as his blood mixed with the water and swirled on the surface. He continued to gently stroke her tense body until her nervousness began to melt away as she leaned back and allowed him to caress her wet skin, opening herself to him. She closed her eyes and began to pant under his touch.

John curled his fingers around her neck with his other hand. He applied gentle pressure as she continued to enjoy his caress until her eyes opened in panic. His fingers tightened until they burned.

She tried to gasp for breath as she clawed at his hand, struggling against him. Water splashed wildly from the tub as she frantically tried to gain leverage to resist him. John slowly pushed her down under the water, watching her eyes saturate with fear. She realized this was her last moment and he watched her face twist in panic.

He could feel the water soak his clothing. The hot water immediately began to cool against his skin as his clothes clung to him. Rebecca's thrashing began to wane as he thought about what suit he would wear. When her body grew still he released her and watched her body float lifelessly in the frothy water.

John stood up and unb.u.t.toned his shirt. He slid it off his arms and threw it in the garbage can. He whistled a tune that suddenly came to mind as he dried his hands and face off on a towel. He was trying to remember where he had heard the song. The name of it eluded him.

John opened his closet and selected a new shirt and dark grey suit. Once he was dressed in clean, dry clothes, he straightened his tie in the mirror and picked up his phone.

He dialed a number and waited as the phone began to ring.

"h.e.l.lo?" a familiar voice answered.

"I need some help on the inside." John didn't waste time getting into the thick of it.

"John, I was wondering when I'd hear from you. What do you need?"

"I have a problem I need taken care of," John said bluntly. "I want to make sure Terence Masten doesn't decide to open his mouth."

"I'll let you know when it's done."

"Good," John said before hitting end and tucking his phone into his pocket. Running his hands down the front of his suit, he double checked his appearance in the mirror. He straightened a stray hair on his head before leaving the room with the mysterious tune still on his lips.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Lexie "You're going back?" Lexie asked.

Stephanie stared at her hands that were clenched tightly on the table. "I know it seems strange, but if there's a possibility that something good can come of this whole situation, I need to," Stephanie confessed.

Lexie placed her hand on top of Stephanie's. "What do you think you'll find by going back to Belhaven?"

Stephanie's gaze flickered up toward Nate. He looked a bit uncomfortable as he leaned against the counter, seemingly unsure how this conversation was going to play out.

"Nate was contacted this morning by the managing officer of the case, Jordon Carlton. It was confirmed that his mother was one of the victims," Stephanie said sadly as she glanced at Nate.

Lexie swung around to look at Nate. "What?"

Jackson looked over his coffee cup as he sipped the hot liquid and Evan leaned against the table looking ready to fall asleep. "Why do I seem to be the only one surprised by this?" Lexie asked in disbelief.

"I didn't know. I'm just too tired to show any emotion right now," Evan admitted. He sat at the end of the table nursing his coffee and a box of cookies. "Sorry to hear, man."

"Thanks." Nate nodded.

"Nate's coming with me," Stephanie continued.

"So am I," Lexie insisted.

Jackson stepped forward and set his mug on the table. "Bad idea, Lexie. You would be making it too easy for Stodden if you go waltzing back to Belhaven."

"I can't let her go back without me. I'm the reason she got caught up in this in the first place," Lexie said defensively.

"It's not your fault..." Stephanie started.

"Yes, it is," Lexie jumped in. "It is my fault."

Stephanie grabbed Lexie's hand. "I watched you suffer since Alex died because you blamed yourself for his death. I'm not gonna let you do it again. Everything that happened was because of John Stodden. He's the one to blame for all of the s.h.i.t that happened to me, you, your mom...not you."