The Day Will Come by Judy Clemens Page B

team.”
    “I guess you haven’t heard any more about the bomb?”
    “Not a word. The cops came around to ask me about stuff, but didn’t tell me anything in return.”
    “Sounds familiar. So how’s Ma?”
    “Ready to pop. Vernice is over at her place now with Lavina, trying to get her mind off things.”
    If anybody could distract Ma, it would be Jermaine’s cute little girl, currently the youngest Granger grandchild.
    “Don’t suppose you know anything more about the office manager that disappeared, do you?”
    He shook his head. “Like I told you, the only time I talked with him was to sign my contract for the night. After that, I never saw him again. And nobody’s asked me about him. ’Cept you.”
    Three guys from our HOG club came up, greeting me. “You about ready for some chow, Granger? We’re going in.”
    He looked at me, and I waved. “I gotta get back to my gang, anyway. See you later.”
    He left and I found my three at the card table, where Tess’ poker hand was temporarily listed on the board in second place, after a flush.
    Tess skipped toward me. “The lady says if I stay in second I’ll get a prize!”
    “Cool beans. When will you know?”
    “Final rider has to be in in an hour,” Lucy said. “They said they’ll call if we’re not here anymore.”
    “You know,” the lady at the table said, winking at Tess, “I can’t imagine there will be anybody else beating you out. And even if they do you should get the prize for being the youngest rider. Why don’t you come on over here and pick a prize from the table?”
    Tess looked to Lucy for approval, which of course she gave. We followed her over to the selection.
    She took a few minutes looking through the stash, which included a couple of T-shirts, a mug that read When I die, I’m riding my HOG to heaven , a stuffed pig with a leather jacket, and a silver cigarette lighter. The prize that caught Tess’ eye, though, was a leather skull cap with Harley-Davidson embroidered on the front.
    “You’re sure, honey?” Lucy asked, apparently not quite sure herself.
    “Can I have it? Pleeeease?”
    Lucy studied her for a moment. “All right. If that’s what you want. Need some help putting it on?”
    So we rode home, Tess pleased as punch to have her new skull cap flattening her hair under her helmet, and the rest of us weary but pleased to have had such a nice ride. It had been a lovely day.
    We pulled into the driveway and rode around the white Chevy truck sitting in front of the house. We parked and turned off the bikes.
    “Who’s that?” Lucy asked.
    I watched the man sit up in the front seat of the truck, where he’d apparently been taking a nap.
    I took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank God. It’s Jordan.”

Chapter Eight
    Lenny took off in a roar, having promised Bart he’d check in at the shop before heading home, and Lucy herded Tess into the house, where she’d get her busy with something before figuring out our after-milking supper. I walked up to Jordan’s truck, where he leaned against the front bumper. Queenie snuffled around my feet, and I reached down to pet her.
    “Your family’s worried sick about you,” I said.
    Jordan made a face. “I know.”
    He looked like hell, his hair greasy, his eyes sunken above dark circles. His skin was pale almost to the color of his truck, and I wondered when he’d last eaten.
    I sat beside him, crossing my ankles on the gravel. “Where have you been?”
    He leaned forward, his hands pressed against the steel under him. “Here and there.”
    I waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. “I heard you hung out at the police station for a while on Friday night.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Saying Genna was your fiancée.”
    He kicked at a stone. “I guess.”
    “Is it true?”
    His eyes flicked up toward me, but didn’t stay. “Unofficially. But don’t tell Ma.”
    “She already knows.”
    He lurched off the bumper and took a few steps away, running his hands over his face