“Rose, I need to go to the bathroom. Do you want to come with me?”
It would take a dead person not to realize she wanted me to come for some reason. “Sure.”
Ronnie turned to his wife, worry in his eyes. “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to go home?”
She gave him a smile, but it was forced. “I’m fine. We’ll be right back.”
Neely Kate and I were both sitting against the wall, so the men had to slide out of the booth to let us out. When we were in the hall, and out of their hearing, she grabbed my arm. “We’re not really goin’ to the little girls’ room,” she said, her voice giddy with excitement. “You’ll never guess who’s here!”
“Who?”
“Samantha Jo Wheaton’s ex.”
My eyes bugged out and I glanced around. “Where?”
Her fingers dug deeper into my forearm. “Sitting at the bar. I saw him walk through the dining room toward the bathroom. He might be able to give us some answers about whether she needed money.”
I cast a wistful look toward the bar. “I know they had an inside person, and Mr. Sullivan’s lookin’ pretty guilty, but I hate pinning it all on him with nothing but circumstantial evidence.” I was worried about Mason’s reaction if he found out what we were doing, but I wanted to investigate all angles. It was worth the risk. “We need to talk to him.”
“I. Know.” Her eyes widened and she enunciated the two words as though I was a small child. “Which is why I came up with an excuse for us to leave the table.”
“Is he still in the bathroom?”
“Nope,” she said smugly. “He’s back at the bar. Come on.” She led the way through the back entrance to the bar so the guys wouldn’t see where we were going. I wouldn’t know Samantha’s ex from any other men in the room, but Neely Kate headed straight over to one of the guys at the bar. He was trying to talk to a woman who clearly wasn’t interested. “Let me handle this one,” Neely Kate whispered when we were several feet away.
“Okay.”
Neely Kate slid into the empty barstool next to the guy. Now that we were closer, I had a better look at him. His longish dark blond hair was slightly greasy and his face was covered in dark stubble. The dark circles under his eyes hinted that he’d been drinking since the beginning of happy hour, not that Jasper’s had one. In fact, Jasper’s seemed much too upscale for him with his Alan Jackson concert T-shirt, dirty jeans, and cowboy boots.
“Hey there, stranger,” Neely Kate practically purred, leaning close to him. “You look like you’d be more at home at the Trading Post.” Obviously, we were on the same wavelength.
“Neely Kate!” he said, sounding happy to see her. “I’m just waitin’ for a friend.” He leaned back on his barstool and almost fell backward. Lucky for him, the body of the woman he’d just been trying to pick up stopped his downward momentum.
The woman spun around, her long, dark hair whipping him in the face, some of it landing in his open mouth. He coughed and sputtered, his tongue thrusting out of his mouth as he batted her hair away with both hands.
She jerked away and shot him a glare. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
“What?” he asked, holding out his hands and appearing genuinely confused.
Yep, it looked like he’d downed plenty of beers while waiting for his friend.
He shuddered, then turned to Neely Kate. “Long time no see.” He eyed her up and down, or at least I thought he did. His eyes were unfocused, and they were doing wonky things. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Her mouth twisted into a condescending smirk. “Not since your wedding to Samantha Jo a few years back.”
“Two-timing bitch,” he snarled, picking up a beer mug and taking a swig. When he drained it, he slammed it on the bar with more force than necessary, shouting at the bartender to get him another. He reached for his wallet in his back pocket, nearly falling off his stool again in the process. “Can I get you loverly ladies a drink?” His gaze shifted to me, as though seeing me for the first time. “Neely Kate, you didn’t introduce me to your friend.”
“Rose, this is Toby Wheaton. Toby, Rose. But she’s very taken, so hands off.” His grimy hand was reaching toward me, but she smacked it with her manicured fingers as if he were a misbehaving school boy.
Toby snatched his hand back. “Oww.”
I couldn’t help but compare his dirty fingernails and stained knuckles to her pristine ones. I’d seen hands like those before. When Joe was undercover as a mechanic.
Neely Kate plastered a cheesy smile on her face and returned to her interrogation. “That’s not how I heard it, Toby. The way I heard it, you were the cheater.”
His mouth puckered in disapproval. “Well, she cheated first. And even if I was unfaithful, she didn’t have to set my fishing boat on fire. Who does that?”
“Crazy bitches,” Neely Kate muttered. “Do you talk to Samantha Jo much since you two split? I heard she was working at the bank.”
“Why do I give a damn where she works? I still have to pay the bitch alimony.” He leaned forward, his face inches from Neely Kate’s. “Can you believe that?”
Neely Kate waved her hand in front of her nose, her face turning pale as she swallowed. His alcohol fumes seemed to be setting off her upchuck reflex.
Oh, crappy doodles.
Ever the trouper, Neely Kate pressed on. “Rumor has it that you haven’t been paying your alimony and Samantha Jo is hurtin’, especially after you racked up charges on all her credit cards before you did the naked shimmy with Lyla Dumont.”
His mouth opened like a fish’s and he started to say something, but nothing came out.
“I heard she’s pretty desperate, movin’ in with her cousin even. I’ve heard she’s lookin’ for part-time employment.” She winked. “If you know what I mean.”
He shook his head, frowning as he handed the bartender several bills in exchange for his refill. “Ain’t nobody in this town making part-time money since Crocker met up with the grim reaper.”
“I heard Skeeter Malcolm was taking over Crocker’s pot business.”
It was my turn to look surprised. She hadn’t told me that.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He shrugged, trying to look disinterested even though the smug look in his eyes proved otherwise.
I wondered what it all meant.
“So if Samantha Jo needed money and couldn’t find part-time employment, do you think she’d be capable of robbing the Henryetta Bank?”
Toby busted out laughing, guffawing and slapping his leg. “Samantha Jo?” he asked when he finally settled down. “She’s dumber than a cat drowning in a puddle. There ain’t no way she could plan a bank robbery.”
“But she’s really pretty,” I interjected.
Neely Kate cast me a curious glance.
“I bet she had dreams of bein’ an actress,” I added.
“Hey.” His eyes lit up. “How’d you know that?”
“I saw her in the Henryetta outdoor theater production of Romeo and Juliet two summers ago.” Momma had pitched a fit when I left her to go see the play with Violet. It had been a disaster from beginning to end. The sets looked like they’d been painted by preschoolers, and the acting was even worse, Samantha Jo’s included. But she seemed to take her part very seriously, oblivious to her lack of talent. Of course I’d paid my dues with Momma afterward, enduring her temper for two days for my disobedience—never mind the fact that I was a twenty-two-year-old.
“We were still together then.” A wistful, faraway look filled his eyes and he grabbed his beer and downed a good portion of it. “She would practice her lines with me. She kept telling me it was her big break. That she was going to be discovered and taken off to Hollywood.”
Judging from her performance as Juliet, Hollywood would have barricaded the doors before she showed up. Samantha Jo had a better chance of starting a new reality series, Trashy Housewives of Henryetta. “Do you think she’d take an acting job on the side?”
/> “What do ya mean?” His body weaved on the stool and his words were slurred.
“If someone offered her a part, say to play a prank on someone, would she take it?”
He grinned, nodding. “Yeah, she sure would.”
“Even if it was illegal?”
His eyes narrowed as he tried to study me. “Like sex stuff?”
“No, more like robbery.”
He nodded so vigorously he almost fell off his stool. “Yeah, if they paid her enough.”
Neely Kate’s face had a green tinge to it. “Thanks.” She stood, looking a little frantic. “I’ve got to be goin’. Good seein’ you, Toby.”
“Wait,” I said, hoping to get more answers. “Toby, are you a mechanic?”
“Yeah, at Ted’s Auto Service, close to Pickle Junction.”
“And have you seen any gold Chargers there lately?”
Surprise covered his face with worry quickly behind it. “Why are you asking?”
“Rose, I have to go now.”
My head tingled and everything faded to black with a vision. I found myself in a jail cell, hanging over a metal toilet. “Why didn’t that bastard show up?” I said in Toby’s voice.
Just as quickly, I was back in the bar, staring into Toby’s drunken face. “You’re gonna get arrested,” I blurted.
Toby’s head jutted back and his body swayed from the sudden movement. “What?”
“It was nice seeing you again,” Neely Kate said as she started to back up, but Toby grabbed for her and pulled her into a bear hug, burying her face in his greasy hair.
“It was good to see you too, Neely Kate. Don’t be such a stranger.”
She pushed on his shoulders, but he didn’t take the hint—he continued to hold on tight as he spoke, his words slurred. “We need to keep better track of our—”
I smelled it before I heard it. Neely Kate vomited down Toby’s back, some of it landing on the woman behind him. Toby dropped his hold and spun around to see what had struck him from behind.
The woman screamed as she peered over her shoulder and down her back, looking at the chunks of Neely Kate’s dinner mixed in with the pink and white polka dots of her dress. Then Toby lost it, adding his own apparently meager dinner to the mix.
Neely Kate had stumbled toward me after being sick, and I grabbed her arm as we both watched the horror we’d wrought unfold.
The aggrieved woman screamed again, shoving Toby off his stool. He landed on his behind hollering as she screamed, “I’m going kill you!” It was clear she blamed him for the whole mess, not thinking to accuse the two well-dressed women who were dashing to the bathroom.
We shut and locked the door to the single-stall room behind us, both of us silent as Neely Kate turned on the faucet. She rinsed her mouth out before glancing up at my reflection in the mirror, her eyes wide with horror. “I’m so sorry.”
“Remind me to invite you out to dinner again. You’re very entertaining.”
She held back a giggle. “The look on that poor woman’s face!”
I shook my head, trying not to grin. “She never suspected it was you, particularly not when he lost it seconds after you did.”
“Oh, my!” she murmured, trying not to smile. “We are terrible people.”
“Especially for letting Toby take the blame.”
We stared at each other, equally horrified and amused.
She took a deep breath. “Don’t you dare tell Ronnie he was right about wasting all that money on steak!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“We need to get back to our table. You know as soon as Ronnie and Mason hear the ruckus they’re gonna suspect our involvement.”
My mirth fell away. “You’re right.” Mason already suspected I was hiding something from him…what would he think now?
After a quick check to make sure Neely Kate had escaped any splatter, we hurried back to the table. Ronnie looked worried, but Mason had an ornery expression as he slipped out of the booth to let me in. “Did you girls have to dig your own latrine?”
“Very funny.” I tried to sound serious, but a small giggle slipped out.
“You know how it is,” Neely Kate said, arching her eyebrows. “Us girls have to primp for our men.”
“Rose doesn’t need to primp,” Mason said, giving me a grin that suggested he didn’t believe a word of our flimsy cover story. “She’s perfect the way she is.”
Neely Kate clasped a hand over her heart. “Awww…that is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. Why don’t you say things like that to me, Ronnie?”
“Maybe because you don’t let me get a word in edgewise,” Ronnie protested, and the two of them bantered good-naturedly while Mason’s hand took hold of my knee under the table, his fingers sliding several inches up the inside of my thigh. He leaned in to my ear, his breath and touch sending shivers down my back. “I know you’re up to something. I expect full disclosure when we get home.”
I turned to face him, about to say something seductive, but my heart jolted when I noticed the good-looking couple standing at the end of our table.
“Well, hello, Rose. Mason,” Joe said. “Fancy seeing you two here.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, but there was definitely an air of challenge there as well.
He’d changed out of his uniform into a gray suit and an ice blue tie, but the biggest shock of all was the woman standing next to him.
“Violet. I see you’re being neighborly,” I said in a saccharine-sweet voice.
She looped her arm over his, having the audacity to give me a condescending smile while wearing my peach-colored dress and matching heels that I’d loaned her several weeks ago.
Neely Kate decided to ignore Southern etiquette, the kind that says every insult must be layered beneath several bless your hearts. I suppose you could get away with that when you’d just barfed your expensive steak dinner down someone’s back. “Violet Beauregard. What in the Sam Hill are you doin’?”
Violet lifted her delicate eyebrows with a haughty glare. “What’s it look like? I’m on a date.”
Joe gasped and started coughing while Violet shot him a glare.
“With your sister’s ex-boyfriend?” Neely Kate practically shouted. “Have you no shame?”
“Neely Kate,” Ronnie muttered, grabbing her arm. “Stay out of it.”
“Is there something we can help you with, Deputy Simmons?” Mason asked, using his official voice. His body was as rigid as a steel rod.
Mason had officially had enough.
Oh, crap.
Joe got ahold of himself and grinned, beaming over the fire he was stoking. “Nope. Since Mike has the kids tonight and I was alone, I asked Violet if she wanted to go out to dinner since we have something important to discuss.”
“You’re out with my old boyfriend, Violet? Are you here discussing me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Contrary to what you think, Rose, the sun does not rise and set on your world. Not everything has to do with you.”
Joe pulled his arm out of her death-grip.
If Mason hadn’t been blocking me in, I would have jumped out of my seat to throttle her.
“Thanks for dropping by to say hello,” Mason said, his voice tight. “But we don’t want to keep you from your dinner any longer.”
Joe started to lead Violet away, but then he turned back, his eyes lighting up. “What were you doing in the bar a few minutes ago, Rose?”
My stomach seized. “What are you talking about?”
“There was quite a commotion in the bar when we first came in. As soon as I saw you here, I knew you must have had something to do with it.” He winked, leaning closer. “Taking care of you is a full-time job. I’m more than happy to take back the position.”
Mason clenched his hands into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. “Is there a point to this, Deputy?”
Mason’s controlled anger only encouraged Joe. It also made him act like an idiot.
“I just know how Rose li
kes to get into trouble.” His grin widened as he straightened. “In all kinds of ways.”
It was a vague innuendo, but it was enough. Mason burst out of his seat, leaving his cane behind as he lunged for Joe, swinging his fist at the same time.
From the look of surprise on Joe’s face, he was caught off guard. He stumbled backward when Mason’s knuckles connected with his cheek.
“Mason!” I shouted, scrambling out of the booth and grabbing his arm when it looked like he was about to hit him again.
Joe hunched over, his hands on his knees, and looked up at Mason with murderous eyes. “I could press charges for this, Deveraux. Assistant DA or not.”
I stepped in between the two men, my pulse pounding in my head. “If you even consider it, Joseph Simmons, I swear on my mother’s grave that I will never speak to you again. Do I make myself clear?”
Joe looked like he was about to lunge past me, but I stood my ground, staring him down.
“Do I make myself clear?” I repeated.
Joe shook his head, his cheek already bruising. “You’re taking his side over mine? He swung first and peace-loving Rose Gardner is taking his side?” He turned away. “Unbelievable.”
“Yes. I’ll choose his side every time, Joe. I’m with Mason now. You have to get that through your head.” My voice was calmer than I would have expected given the fact that my nerves were strung like an over-tightened fiddle string.
Every patron in the restaurant had their eyes glued on us in various expressions of disbelief and shock. I wanted to crawl under a rock and live there. But that wasn’t an option.
I turned to face Mason, whose expression bounced between rage and horror. “Mason, let’s go home.”
He nodded, obviously dazed.
The manager, who seemed completely shocked that Mason would be involved in this kind of drama, walked over to our booth. “Is everything all right, Mr. Deveraux?”
“Yes. We’ve straightened everything out. But we’ll need our check,” he said, regaining his composure as he spoke.
“We’ll be more than happy to comp your meal to make up for the inconvenience.” The manager obviously hadn’t seen what had happened.
Thirty-Two and a Half Complications Page 12