She made her way over to Gerald and introduced herself. She waved Duke back, signaling him to stay by the door. She didn’t want his presence to intimidate the sweet man in the brown sweater sitting by the window.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Karlson.” Zuri took the seat across from him at the small table.
“Call me Gerald. So, are you dating my grandson?”
Tom sputtered. “Grandpa!”
“Well, you should if you’re not. I don’t know why you’re still single. You should ask this beautiful woman out instead of sitting around with me.” Gerald sent Zuri a wink.
She liked this guy already. But she should probably put Tom out of his misery. “Actually, the man I came to see was you, Gerald.”
“What did you have in mind? I’m not as young as I once was, but I still have some moves if you get me out on the dance floor.”
Zuri laughed. “As great as that sounds, I was wondering about going for a ride. If you were going to drive me around, where would you take me?”
Gerald’s smile grew sad. “My Phyllis loved going for rides.”
That’s right. Keep talkin’. “In your Mustang?”
“Yes. With the top down.”
“Did you go for a ride yesterday in the Mustang?” Zuri gently pressed.
He stared out the window again, confused. “I…I stopped to get ice cream. Phyllis and I always split the banana split.”
Duke turned to Tom. “Where would he go for ice cream?”
“There’s an ice-cream shop right in town. Licks and Stuff. He must’ve gone there.”
“That’s right. I remember driving by it yesterday,” Zuri said. “But we didn’t see the car in the parking lot. We checked.”
Tom sat next to his grandfather by the window. “Where did you drive the Mustang after Licks and Stuff, Grandpa?”
He didn’t respond. They were losing him.
Zuri laid her hand on Gerald’s. “It sounds like you really miss your wife. She must’ve been quite the lady, huh?”
“Yes, my Phyllis was a looker. Fell for her the first time we met at the high school winter formal. We both came with friends and left with each other.”
“And you took Phyllis for a ride?”
He nodded. “She liked to go fast.”
“Did you take her for ice cream in the Mustang yesterday? Do you remember?”
“Maybe.” The older man’s raspy voice grew strong, confident. “Wait. I did. But we liked to eat our ice cream by the water. I drove to Artist Point and…” He frowned. “But she wasn’t there. So I drove to our favorite lookout on the highway. It’s where I proposed.”
“A lookout?”
Tom pulled out his phone. “I can show you on the map here. It’s a small parking lot on the side of Highway 61 where you can pull over and see the lake. He must’ve left the car there, because the deputy found him not too far from that spot.”
“Wouldn’t we have seen it on our way into town?” Zuri asked Duke.
Duke looked at the map. “No, it was in the opposite direction.” He came over to Gerald. “Thank you, Mr. Karlson. You were a big help.”
“Did I take your car?” His countenance fell. “I’m sorry.”
“The important thing is you remembered and are helping us find it.” Duke shook Gerald’s and Tom’s hands.
Well, look at Duke Lowry making friends with the criminal. He was definitely coming around. Zuri’s heart swelled.
“Sometimes…I get lost in the memories. She was the love of my life. I miss her.” Gerald’s voice shook.
“She was one lucky woman to have you, sir.” Zuri bent over and kissed his wrinkled cheek. “I hope you can still have a merry Christmas with your grandson here.”
Gerald’s eyes cleared and he looked up at Tom. “I think we will. What do you say, Tom? Are you up to some ice cream? I’m in the mood and I’m buying.”
“Sure, Grandpa. Let me see these two out, and we’ll go get that banana split.”
Duke and Zuri assured Tom they weren’t going to press charges and left.
And by the spring in his step, Duke had caught the scent of the trail once more and was on a mission.
When they got in his truck, he nodded toward the dashboard screen. “Go ahead. I know you want to.”
Zuri laughed as she found a Christmas song on the radio and cranked the volume up. Yes, Duke Lowry was thawing, and that was something worth celebrating.
CHAPTER 7
THURSDAY, 12:26 P.M.
Duke glanced over at Zuri snapping her fingers and singing “Jingle Bell Rock” in his truck. He had to admit, after watching her with Gerald, that she wasn’t the pretentious, shallow woman he’d first taken her for.
And yes, she needed that makeup case, but he could read people. Zuri really cared about that old guy. A guy she’d probably never see again. Her gentleness and compassion with Gerald had gotten them a lot further than his intimidation tactics.
And she’d certainly handled his admission about losing the ring with more grace than he’d given himself.
Duke had trusted Boone when they were partners. Maybe Zuri was worth trusting too. It wasn’t so bad working with someone again.
They soon hit the highway and turned left. Not too far down, Duke slowed the truck. “It’s near here.”
He strained to see anything among all the white snow. The lake was white, the trees were white, even the road before them had another layer of snow from last night, making it hard to tell where it ended.
“Look!” Zuri pointed to a flash of something red glinting in the sunlight up ahead.
Sure enough, there was a small pullover spot by the lake. A car buried in snow—probably from the plow truck clearing the highway—with a corner of red showing through on the hood was the only thing in the tiny lot.
Duke grabbed his trusty ice scraper with the long-handled brush. “You can wait here in the truck and stay warm. I don’t want to use the shovel on this and risk scratching the car.”
“Stay here and let you get all the glory? No way. Didn’t you learn your lesson with the tires?”
“Right. You don’t want to sit on your…what did you call it? Some New York City slang.”
“Tuchus.” She grinned at him and held his gaze, a quiet passing between them. “We did it.”
Yeah. They’d done it. The pinch in his neck started to ease. They’d found the car. Now they just had to dig it out.
They both hopped out of the warm cab into the frigid breeze.
Duke used the ice scraper to clear the thick coating of snow off the hood of the car.
Wait. This wasn’t a convertible. He brushed more snow off. “This isn’t right. It’s not a Mustang.”
“What? It has to be.” Zuri started clearing the snow on the window with her mittened hand.
Duke cleared the roof and then moved to the back. A Toyota logo on the trunk was chipped, and the bumper had more than a few dings. This wasn’t the meticulously restored Mustang. Just an old red Corolla.
His heart sank.
“Would Gerald have taken this car accidentally?” Zuri asked.