The Stranger In Room 205 (Hot off the Press! 1)

“Tulsa. Would you pass the salt, please, Serena?”

Serena’s fingers brushed Sam’s when she handed him the salt shaker. His felt cold. She wondered if he was still in pain. If so, he covered it well.

Dan kept his gaze on the other man. “And before Tulsa? Where did you grow up?”

“I moved around a lot. There isn’t any particular place I call home. Mrs. Schaffer, this meal is delicious. The best I’ve had in longer than I can remember.”

Marjorie beamed in response to Sam’s compliment. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Dan wasn’t so easily distracted. “So, Sam—what types of jobs have you held? You’re—what—thirty-two? Thirty-three?”

“Thirty-one.”

“You must have had some interesting experiences in all those years on the road. Maybe you’d like to share some of them with us?”

“Dan—” Marjorie’s voice held a note of warning.

He gave her a blandly innocent smile. “Just making lunch conversation, ma’am.”

“I wouldn’t want to bore everyone by droning on about my life,” Sam remarked, his expression every bit as insouciant as Dan’s. “Yours sounds more interesting. I’ve heard you’ve had a rash of break-ins around town lately. Have you made any headway in solving them?”

Serena couldn’t help but be amused by the expression that crossed Dan’s face. Sam’s verbal arrow had hit the police chief directly in his professional ego. He replied stiffly. “No. We haven’t made much progress yet. All I can do for now is follow the few leads I have and keep a close eye on anyone around here who seems suspicious.”

“Don’t you start again, Dan,” Marjorie warned.

He flashed her a crooked grin, but made no promises.

As if to make sure the conversation stayed pleasant, Marjorie took charge of it. They spent the remainder of the meal talking about local current events. Sam didn’t have much to contribute on that subject, of course, but Marjorie made sure he wasn’t left out. By the time they’d finished the main course, Serena imagined that Sam could probably pass a pop quiz on Edstown trivia.

She was aware that she hadn’t said much during lunch, offering only enough comments to keep her mother appeased. She had been unable to stop herself from watching Sam during the meal, studying his expressions and wondering about him. She tried to be subtle about it, examining him through her eyelashes while ostensibly concentrating on her food, but she couldn’t seem to look away from him completely.

This absorption with him was beginning to worry her. She’d tried to rationalize it by telling herself that anyone would be intrigued by a man like Sam—so anonymous and mysterious. She’d never met anyone quite like him before; it was only natural that she was curious. But that didn’t seem to fully explain her fascination with him.

Maybe it was because she had always found puzzles challenging—and Sam was definitely a puzzle. Everything she observed about him seemed to be at odds with what he’d told them. Young, handsome, obviously well educated, Sam Wallace, with his neatly manicured hands and lost, intelligent eyes, hardly fit her preconceptions of a rootless drifter.

She couldn’t really blame Dan for his suspicions. It was obvious that there was a great deal Sam hadn’t told them. She would like to know more about him. And while she told herself she merely wanted reassurance that he was trustworthy, she knew there was much more to her curiosity than that.

He looked up from his plate, and their gazes met across the table. She had the sudden uncomfortable feeling that he could read her thoughts on her face. His thoughts were still a complete mystery to her.

“Is everyone ready for dessert?” Marjorie’s question broke the moment, drawing Sam’s attention away. Serena sank back in her seat, oddly disconcerted.

There was definitely something unsettling about this man Sam Wallace.

Sam was fully aware that Serena watched him all through lunch. She was trying to be subtle about it, but it was obvious to him, anyway. Dan Meadows kept him under close scrutiny, as well. Marjorie was the only one not watching him as if in concern that he might pocket the silverware if no one was looking.

He couldn’t say it was a comfortable experience. But it was definitely interesting. And the food was either the best he’d ever eaten or just tasted that way in comparison to the hospital fare. After all, he couldn’t remember any meals prior to waking up in the hospital.

He’d found himself wondering as the meal began whether there was something going on between Serena and the police chief. They certainly seemed to know each other well, interacting with the ease of familiarity. It didn’t take him long to decide that they were friends, not lovers. He sensed affection between them, but little chemistry.

Some people might have found it rather amusing that a guy with a serious mental problem was analyzing other people’s psyches, he thought with a wry, private smile. He doubted that either Serena or Dan would share the humor if they knew the truth.

His grim amusement faded quickly when Marjorie entered the dining room with a big chocolate cake festooned with small burning candles. “Serena told me that today is your birthday,” she said as she set the cake in front of Sam. “I hope you like chocolate cake.”

Embarrassed, Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, I love chocolate cake. But you really didn’t have to go to this

much trouble.”

She laughed, apparently amused that she’d rattled him. “Nonsense. Everyone deserves a birthday cake. Now make a wish and blow out the candles.”