Free At Risk by REBECCA YORK Page A

she thought the segment was over, the report went on to give a rehashing of the mugging incidents.
    “That’s just what I need,” she muttered as she sensed Rafe standing in back of her. “I guess I don’t have to worry about Cumberland closing me,” she added. “Nobody will be coming, anyway.”
    Rafe moved up behind her and slid a comforting arm around her waist. “They’ll come. First because they’re curious. You’ll get the same kind of tourists who attended the voodoo ceremony—looking for zombies.
    She snorted.
    “And you’ll get the people who have liked your food all along. And then everybody will end up talking about your fabulous cuisine and forget about last night.”
    “You aren’t just saying that?”
    “It’s the truth.”
    “Let’s hope so.”
    She sighed, going back to the previous thought. “It looks like the dumbest thing I ever did was to let Calista talk me into using the restaurant.”
    “We don’t always know the consequences of our choices.”
    Was there some hidden message in the words? Or should she simply stop second-guessing every exchange they had.
    “I want to ask her some questions this morning,” he said, his voice hard-edged. She flicked her gaze toward him. It sounded like he cared about helping her—not just because she’d hired Decorah Security to investigate the muggings. But there was no way to know for sure—not unless he was willing to open up about why he’d failed to keep his promise to her eight years ago.
    When the phone rang, she snatched up the instrument.
    “Eugenia, are you all right?”
    She tightened her hand on the receiver. It was her mother, pretending to be worried about her.
    “I’m fine.”
    “I just saw on TV that you were holding a voodoo ceremony at your restaurant last night, and someone died.”
    “Yes.”
    “I didn’t know about anything like that. How long has this been going on?”
    “This is the first death,” she answered.
    “Don’t be smart with me, how long have you been exposing yourself to a dangerous element?”
    “Nine months.”
    Her mother made a clucking sound. “Why didn’t you call me last night so I wouldn’t have to find out about it from the television?”
    “It was late when I got back from the police station, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” she lied. Really, she hadn’t even thought about her mother. She’d gotten herself out of the habit because a conversation with Mom was likely to end up being unpleasant—like now. Her mother hadn’t understood why she hadn’t wanted to get a normal college degree like all her friends and then settle down as the wife of a man who would make the rules for her. The way Richard Delaney had done, as it turned out. He’d seemed like he loved her. Then he’d put obstacles in the way of her having a career. Looking back, she should have known that would happen.
    “I’m disturbed now,” her mother was saying. She huffed out an exasperated breath. “You knew you were doing something very foolish by letting that voodoo woman use your premises.”
    Right. And she hadn’t had the courtesy to run the idea by Mom and get a vote of no confidence. All she said was, “I’m sorry you think so.”
    “You shouldn’t let that element anywhere near your place of business.”
    “Right, Mom,” she answered, because she’d learned long ago that the best way to deal with her mother was to go along with what she was saying—at least while she was saying it. “I’ll take care of it.”
    “Eugenia . . .”
    “Yes?”
    “I’m only trying to help. You know I always have your best interests in mind.”
    “Of course,” she answered remembering all the times when Mom thought her best interests and her own ideas about that were in strong conflict.
    “Have the police found out what killed that poor man?”
    “If they have, they haven’t shared it with me.”
    When she finally hung up, she found Rafe watching her.
    “Your mom?”
    “Yes.”
    “She always was . .