Phoenix Legacy

by Corrina Lawson

  It wasn’t paranoia. She knew that now. Her instincts were usually good, and she needed to listen to them. Genet was all wrong. Tomorrow, she was calling the clinic to let them know she didn’t approve of their recommendation.

  She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, thought about fiddling with her clothing or make-up to wow the stranger and shook her head. It wasn’t like she expected to catch him, and it would probably be good if she didn’t. Her life was complicated enough right now.

  Del walked down the narrow steps to the bar, holding tight to the handrail. Pregnancy, she found, affected her balance. These rickety stairs had to be repaired before the baby was born. She should put that item at the top of a new to-do list.

  Tammy would probably love to throw a baby shower. Maybe she should let the older woman do it. She could use all the help anyone would give her.

  Loud voices and laughter from the bar were audible before she even entered the room. The car’s owner had lived up to his promise of buying a round.

  She turned the corner into the bar and stopped to take in the scene. Tammy was at the bar, pouring Irish whiskey for the barflies. That would cost the stranger. Jessica nursed a margarita, and a pint of the local microbrew they had on tap sat in front of Jake.

  A tough night on the stranger’s wallet, but a good night for the bar.

  The stranger sat at the corner of the bar, away from Jessica. Perhaps he wasn’t in a flirting mood. He’d chosen Del’s favorite seat. From that corner, you could see the entire front room plus the open windows that led to the bar’s deck. During the hot summer months, she opened up the deck for service, but she’d closed it down to customers early last week, before she became too pregnant and tired for such a big project.

  It wasn’t lost on Del that the stranger had picked the one seat in the bar where he could watch all the entrances and exits. That was also one of the reasons she liked it.

  He had to be a soldier of some sort.

  The stranger watched the room. No beer or alcohol for him. He was sipping a Coke.

  She slipped behind the bar, drew a draft and set it in front of him. “Drink all you like. If you get drunk, I’ll be happy to drive the Charger home for you.”

  He smiled and saluted her with his Coke. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Oh, nice eyes, she decided. Nice smile too. She put her hand out. “Del Sefton.”

  He shook it, quickly and firmly. No flirting there. Too bad. “Philip Drake.”

  As he drew his hand back, the rips in his jacket sleeve became visible. “Those stains look like dried blood,” she said. “What happened to you?”

  “The car happened.” He grimaced. “Radiator overheated and I was too eager to fix it.”

  “No permanent damage, I hope?”

  He smiled. “Never. But I decided I needed a drink to wash away the stink of the close call.”

  Now that she was close, Del decided Drake’s face matched the excellent body. His face was solid and distinctive, with high cheekbones that hinted at Native American ancestry. His deep, dark eyes confirmed that impression. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties but he spoke and moved with more self-assurance than that. She bet he was older than he looked.

  And damned if he somehow didn’t look familiar too. Something about his face nagged at her.

  Tammy called for help.

  “Be right back.”

  “I hope so,” Drake said.

  Del had to serve several drinks while Tammy went back to the kitchen to whip up some sandwiches. Jessica scowled at her and glanced in Drake’s direction, obviously put out by being shunted aside.

  “Whoa, Del, should you be behind the bar in your condition?” Jake asked.

  “I’m pregnant, not injured.” Jake had noticed the baby bump a few days ago. She didn’t have the heart to lie to him and besides, others had guessed. She thought his worry was sweet but wished he’d kept it to himself. By mentioning it tonight, he’d opened up yet another round of speculation about the kid’s father.

  She supposed it didn’t matter anymore, now that she planned to keep the kid. Tammy would be thrilled.

  “Going to give us a hint as to the dad tonight?” Jessica asked.

  “George Clooney showed up at my door one night and I treated him to a fabulous time.”

  “That’s dumb,” Mike said. “Everyone knows Clooney’s gay. He keeps picking up these young, unknown women as beards and then dumps them after a while.”

  That drew indignation from Jessica and sent them off on movie stars who might or might not be gay. Mike moved over to be closer to Jessica. Mike was just barely eighteen. He had a crush on Jessica, who was too old for him at twenty-six, but that didn’t seem to bother Mike.

  At least they wouldn’t be talking about her baby’s father anymore.

  Del walked back to Drake.

  He’d drunk the beer.

  Offering accepted, she thought. “I’m getting closer to driving that Charger.”

  “I need more than one beer to get drunk.”

  She poured another and set it in front of him. He drank down a few swallows and set the glass down very deliberately.

  “Could you handle the stick shift?” he asked.

  “I can handle whatever stick shift you have.” It was stupid that the flirting made her feel good, but it did. And Drake seemed willing to go along with a little harmless teasing. She gave him points for not mentioning her pregnancy.

  She did wonder if she was playing with fire. She was sure Drake wasn’t harmless in the least.

  He drank more beer. “I see.”

  “I grew up driving stick shifts. I miss them.” She put her elbow on the bar and braced her chin on her hand, putting them at eye level. “And you?”

  “The same. I prefer them.”

  She’d no idea how to parse the hidden meaning in that. Was he gay? Maybe he meant it exactly as he’d said. He liked cars with a manual clutch. Besides, it didn’t matter if he was gay. She didn’t intend to go beyond flirting.

  She straightened. “So no one to go out driving with, Mr. Drake?”

  “Call me Philip. And I usually go on drives by myself. I could be talked into making an exception, however.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He wasn’t quite staring at her, but she got the feeling he had memorized every single laugh line and freckle on her face. Don’t blush, she ordered herself. You’re not a teenager.

  “I understand congratulations are in order,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Damn, he’d brought up the baby. And this had been going so well. “What made you pull in our driveway, Philip? Plenty of bars in this area and we’re not exactly on the beaten path.”

  He paused, as if deciding what to say. The feeling that he was familiar, that she’d met him before nagged at her again.

  “I was out this way and, as I said, once I tested the repairs to the car, I needed a drink. I like trying new things.” He leaned forward. “Your bar turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Great beer and equally great company.”

  “We aim to please here at Bar & Grill.”

  Jessica slid into the bar stool next to them. “So, Philip, do you like to dance?”

  Without missing a beat, he said, “Not without music.”

  Jessica slapped a dollar bill on the bar. “Del, got change for the jukebox?”

  Del sighed. She wasn’t quite jealous but… “Sure, I’ll get change but I thought you didn’t like the songs on the jukebox. You were insulting them last week for being way out of date.”

  “There are a few good ones on there.”

  Del slipped the bill into the cash register and drew out four quarters. “Nothing too loud, all right? Last time you had Jake’s ears bleeding.”

  “It’ll liven this place up.” Jessica glanced at Drake before sauntering over to the jukebox.

  “I should’ve said that I don’t dance, shouldn’t I?” Drake asked.

  Del shrugged and leaned on the bar. “She’s not a bad dancer.”r />
  “She’s not the partner I was hoping for.” To emphasize his words, he closed his hand over hers.

  “Somebody’s gotta serve the drinks.” She cleared her throat and straightened. Flirting was one thing, but there was something intense about Drake that made her uneasy.

  Jon Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer began to reverberate through the bar. Del went to refill Jake’s drink. Jessica had made a decent choice this time. And her mood seemed infectious. Despite Drake’s protests, he seemed to be enjoying himself on the dance floor. Possibly not as much as Del was enjoying watching him shake his booty in those jeans, however, even with Jessica draping herself around him. No business of hers, really. Drake was probably closer to Jessica’s age than hers. Men in their twenties were not big on women over thirty. Let them have their fun.

  She wasn’t the only one staring at the pair. Mike’s gaze was fixed on Jessica. He certainly was jealous. Tammy should talk to her son about this. That powerful a crush could not be healthy. When the song was done, Mike put in more quarters for another song, claiming Jessica for this dance.

  Del wondered if Drake would protest, but he seemed happy enough to fade back. She turned to ring up the sandwich Tammy had made for Jake. When she turned back, Drake was across the bar from her.

  He said something, but the new song—something by the Ramones—made it too loud inside to hear very well. Drake shook his head, annoyed, and pointed at the deck. He took her hand.

  She snatched it back. “Got a bar to run.”

  “It’s important. Please.” He grinned. “C’mon. I’ll let you drive the Charger after.”

  “Okay.” The car was excellent incentive and the grin almost as much. Dammit all, she knew that expression. She knew Drake or had known someone who looked a lot like him. She wished she could place him. If she heard him talk more, it might just click.

  She unlocked the door to the deck and stepped outside. Drake shut the door behind them. She walked over to the railing and closed her eyes. Water lapped against the wood. Birds chirped overhead. Home, she thought.

  She loved that old jukebox but it wasn’t what she needed tonight.

  Drake stood next to her. “You dance well,” she told him.

  “It’s not that hard to learn. Do you dance?”

  “Not much lately,” she admitted. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Before she could protest, he had an arm around her waist and his hand closed over hers. “Dance with me, Del.”

  He led her in an old-fashioned box step. His moves were fluid and easy. And his body was rock solid.

  Her dancing wasn’t quite as fluid. Too much on her mind. “What do you really want?”

  “To keep you safe.”

  “That’s not the answer I was expecting.” Such a strange comment. She’d expected something sexual, the way they had been flirting.

  He hummed bars to a song. Del recognized It Had To Be You. Her parents hadn’t liked any modern music, but they had allowed her to listen to some of the classics. Why a young guy like Drake knew the tune, she had no idea.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s so important that you lured me out here to talk?”

  “As you may have noticed from the car, I like classic things.”

  “I’m older than you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He hummed the melody again. This time, she joined him, hearing the rest of the words in her head. They fell into step together.

  It felt good, moving with him, an unexpected moment of fun in the midst of all her upheaval. Joy and arousal, being so close to this man. Her face grew warm, and she wondered if the old adage that pregnant women get horny could be true.

  She could almost imagine she was having a romantic moment with an attractive man and at the beginnings of a relationship. A dream, a perfect dream.

  But she had a bar to run, she was pregnant, he was a stranger, and enough was enough. Magic moments didn’t happen. At least, they didn’t happen to her.

  “You’re stalling,” she said. “What’s so important?”

  “I’m not stalling. I’m enjoying myself. And it’s important that this seem normal to everyone.”

  “Just for your information, it’s not normal for me to dance with a customer while working.”

  “Then I’m honored. I don’t usually dance while working either but…” He sighed and stopped, holding her at arm’s length. “Your pregnancy has put you in serious danger. I’m here to help.”

  “What? Who are you?”

  “I’m investigating some circumstances that affect you.”

  Cop, she thought. Her first guess had been right. “That’s a mealy-mouthed sentence if I ever heard one. Get to the point.”

  He held out his hand. “Come with me if you want to live?”

  With his head tilted to the side and his half-smile, she was tempted to laugh, despite her annoyance. “My life is odd at times but not weird enough to include robots from the future after my unborn baby.”

  “Sarah Conner was also a waitress.”

  “In a family restaurant. This is a bar and I’m a cynical bartender fast losing patience. Just what is going on?”

  Drake stepped closer again. He glanced through the glass doors to the bar. Jessica and Mike had now gotten all the regulars up on their feet. They were all dancing or doing some approximation of it. Del recognized the song as Prince’s 1999.

  “The situation is complicated. It’ll take time explain, and I’d rather do it somewhere else. Somewhere less in the open. We need to leave here.”

  “You say it’s complicated, that you came looking for me, want me to leave and won’t tell me why. Fat chance that I’m going anywhere.”

  “You don’t trust me. I don’t blame you.” Drake paused again as if he was going to say something else and then stopped. “I’m here to help. And to tell you why you’re pregnant.”

  “If you’re here for that, you know I’m pregnant because some asshole raped me. Are you FBI? A cop?”

  “No, though I used to work for the CIA.”

  “That makes me feel so much better.” She took several steps back toward the glass doors. She didn’t want to be trapped out here with him. “So was the Charger some ploy to get everyone, including me, to like you, so you could come in here and ask questions?” The flirting too? Dammit, she had liked him. A lot. It had felt good to be in his arms. She had a good radar for liars. She usually didn’t make mistakes like this.

  “No, I’m usually much more subtle and effective when I’m working. I didn’t want deception with you. You’ve been deceived enough.” He sighed. “I’m doing this badly. The car’s mine. I rebuilt it, I like driving it and that’s all there is to that. It’s not a ruse.”

  “And the flirting?”

  “I wasn’t flirting. I meant everything.”

  “And the dance?”

  He looked out at the lake. “I wanted to dance with you. I couldn’t resist.”

  “I have to admit, as lines go, that’s a good one.”

  He put himself between her and the glass doors. “Ideally, I need to get you somewhere safe right now. I’ll settle for going somewhere we can talk privately but public enough so that you feel safe.”

  “I’m in one of those places right now. So talk.”

  “There are more listeners here than you know. How about meeting me at the Victoria Diner on Route 10 instead?”

  More listeners than she knew? Cryptic didn’t begin to describe this guy. “When did you have in mind?”

  “Now.”

  “I’m working.”

  “Del, it’s very important.”

  “Using my first name won’t work to convince me.” That was an old con’s trick, gaining familiarity by using the name of the mark.

  He ran his hand through his hair. Around them, she heard the chatter inside the bar. They were probably talking about why she was out on the deck with Drake. He moved out of her way, as if showing he meant her no harm.

  �
��I admit, I’m lousy at being this direct. But you must want to know more about how your child was conceived. And I know you want to keep the child safe.”

  “I can’t change the past. The kid’s mine now, end of story. I don’t need your help to protect what’s mine.”

  “Yes, you do.” He held up his burned sleeve. “I didn’t get this from the car, I got it from an incident in which someone died. The people who caused this will be here soon and after you. The sooner you know the full story, the safer you are. All I want is one hour at the diner. Hear me out.”

  The path was clear to the door. She walked back inside, Drake on her heels.

  She turned around. “Let me think about it, okay?”

  “Do you have any experience with someone named Edward Genet?”

  She froze. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m here to help. And if you tell me that you trust Genet more than you trust me, I’ll walk out of here right now.”

  “You’re a hell of a gambler, Philip Drake.” She went behind the bar and wiped it down, thinking. He said nothing more. Tammy called her over for help and Del fixed a cocktail for Jessica, who now had her arm around Mike. While she was shaking up the White Russian, Del glanced over at Drake. He couldn’t have sat more still if he were a statue.

  In less than thirty minutes, he’d gone from charm to flirting to soldier mode. Yet he’d bet right. She trusted him more than she trusted Genet.

  Del set the drink in front of Jessica.

  “He asking you out?” Jessica said.

  “Something like that.”

  “Maybe I never had a chance?” Jessica lowered her voice and leaned over the bar. Her blonde bangs fell in her face. “Oooh…you know him, right? Is he the kid’s father?”

  Del shook her head and smiled. “You people need to get a life.”

  “We have one. It’s in this bar.” Jessica smiled back.

  Del walked back over to Drake, still indecisive. She didn’t believe him, not fully. But he knew about Genet and that meant he knew something. She wanted to hear it.

  “Did you decide?” Drake asked.