Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole

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Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole Page 15

by Marja McGraw


  Luis had mentioned that Nate was retired but bored. The new chef wasn’t very tall, and yet his self-confident demeanor gave one the feeling of being around a larger-than-life man. I took an instant liking to him.

  Wandering back out to the dining area, I stood behind the reservation desk, thinking. The whole situation didn’t make sense to me. With everything that had happened, I would think that Victor must have some idea of who might be after him. But thinking back to our conversations, I believed him. He may have stepped on the wrong toe and never realized it. Or, on the other hand, maybe he was a terrific actor. Maybe he really knew who was after him and why.

  Someone knocked on the front door of the restaurant, interrupting my thoughts. I’d have to explain that we’re only open in the evening for the time being. I knew it wouldn’t be a delivery, because they always come to the back door.

  “I’m sorry,” I began, opening the door, “but…” I stopped talking when I realized it was Janet Murphy. She didn’t look happy, and I had a feeling this wasn’t a social call.

  “Come on in,” I said. “It’s good to see you. Actually, I’d planned on calling you this afternoon.”

  “And what were you going to call me about? John Jackson maybe?”

  “John Jackson?” Could the goon’s surname be Jackson?

  “Yeah. The dead guy at the mall. I understand you and Chris were quite interested in him.”

  Now I knew why Janet didn’t look happy. She probably thought we’d been keeping things from her. We were, but not on purpose. There hadn’t been anything that we could tell her before.

  “Come on in and sit down,” I said, indicating one of the dining tables. “I’ll go find Chris. I really was going to call you this afternoon.”

  “Uh huh.”

  As I passed through the kitchen to find Chris, Luis stopped me. “Are you ready for a feast?” he asked.

  “Not now, Luis. Give us a few minutes.” I stopped, rethinking things. “On second thought, there’s a woman sitting at one of the tables in the restaurant. She’ll be joining us. You and Nate can begin serving right now.” Maybe I could soften Janet up with a tasty gourmet lunch.

  “Chris,” I said, walking into the office, “Janet is here.”

  He held his hand up, motioning for me to wait.

  “Okay, Wade, thanks. You’ve really been a big help.” He hung up.

  “Janet’s here, and she’s not a happy camper. Somehow she’s found out about us watching the dead guy. By the way, his name is John Jackson. Anyway, I’ve got her seated at one of the tables. Luis and Nate, the new lunch chef, are going to start serving samples of Nat’s dishes. I thought maybe it would soften her up if we talk over a tasty meal.”

  “Good idea. She knows about us because she saw us leaving the scene, and she asked Wade what we were doing there. He was afraid to lie to her, and I told him he did fine.”

  “Did he tell you anything about what happened?”

  “Let’s talk to Janet first, and then I’ll tell you what he said.”

  Walking back to the dining room, we found Janet standing next to the table, tapping her foot. Nate was placing a platter bearing appetizers on the table.

  “Thank you, Nate,” I said. “You can bring everything else out in a few minutes.”

  “Please,” Nate said rather haughtily, “when I’m in the restaurant I’m Nathaniel.”

  Chris and I both turned a wary eye on the potential new chef. Did we want someone with an attitude working at Bogey Nights? I saw that Janet was regarding him with a hesitant look, too. I was surprised because when I’d met him in the kitchen, he seemed so easygoing.

  Nate laughed. “However, when it’s social, I’m just plain Nate. I was just teasing you.”

  “Well, Nate,” Chris said, “let’s keep our conversations on a social level. When we speak to the patrons, we’ll refer to you as Nathaniel. Deal?”

  “But, of course,” Nate said. Smiling at Chris, he turned and headed back toward the kitchen. I had a feeling Nate might be somewhat of a character.

  Chris pulled a chair out for Janet. “Actually,” he said, “Nathaniel does sound more professional than Nate.”

  “If you think food is going to get you off the hook, you’re dead wrong. And speaking of dead…” She sat down, and taking a good long look at the platter, she began to fill her plate.

  Food is always a good ice breaker.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The three of us were quiet while we served ourselves portions of the appetizers. Nate had placed a sample of each item on the plate instead of the amount that would normally be served. I started with roasted eggplant served with roasted garlic dip, and quickly added some stuffed mushrooms. Before I could reach for the fried calamari rings, Janet and Chris dove into them. Nate had added shrimp cakes, and chicken and duck pâté served with onion chutney and Greek-style Petrou olives. Lastly, there was stuffed antipasto bread, and stuffed grape leaves. Who needed a main dish?

  Janet took a bite of a shrimp cake and groaned. “Oh, this is sooo good! But it’s not going to get you off the hook.”

  “Maybe this won’t, but wait until he serves the entrée.” I hoped it was something wonderful – food to soothe the angry beast, or copper as the case may be.

  “So tell me what you know about John Jackson, and don’t leave anything out.” Janet took a bite of the stuffed antipasto bread and closed her eyes while tilting her head back in appreciation.

  While we ate Chris and I told her about the Church Ladies, what Addie had overheard, and what we’d done so far. We told her about Victor, the intended victim, and that he didn’t seem to know why anyone would want to bump him off.

  She lifted her right eyebrow every so often while we talked.

  “So why didn’t you call me right away?” she asked.

  “Because we didn’t have anything concrete,” Chris replied. “What was I going to do? Call you and say, ‘Hey, we know some Church Ladies who have a friend who might have overheard a murder-for-hire conversation. Yeah, she hid out in the back of a camper being driven by a possible killer. And, by the way, the intended victim hasn’t got a clue about who might want him dead.’”

  “You really don’t have any more information than that?” Janet asked.

  “We’ve met with Victor, and he has some retired cop friend who’s watching out for him,” I said. “He asked us to do what we could, when we can. Have we told you anything that would have made you become involved in this case before now?”

  “Not really,” she replied, sounding reluctant to admit she wouldn’t have listened to us. “But now that Jackson is dead, I’ve got to look at all sides of this thing. Are you sure these Church Ladies, as you call them, are a reliable source of information?”

  “Who knows?” Chris replied. “They’re a bunch of little old ladies who pray at the drop of a hat. But so far they’ve been mostly reliable, even if they are a nightmare to me.”

  “I knew it!” I said. “I knew you felt that way. Why, these are some of the nicest ladies I’ve ever known, Christopher Cross!”

  “Don’t get mad at me, babe. You know they’ve been under our feet through this whole thing. I like them, too. But you have to admit, they can be as cockamamie as anyone we’ve ever met. And they can be downright intimidating sometimes.”

  Before anyone could say anything else, Nate arrived with a cart and more food.

  “Saved by the chef,” Chris mumbled.

  Nate cleared off the appetizer platters and began placing serving plates and bowls on the table. “Here we have our salads,” he said, setting the scene. “We have Grilled Chicken Summer Salad, the standard Caesar Salad, and a fresh fruit plate. Of course, I will be providing other salads, too. And your soups. For today you have your choice of Vichyssoise, Lobster Bisque, Creamy Sauerkraut or Tomato Florentine. Bon appétit!” He left to return to the kitchen to work on his presentation of the entrees.

  “You’d better snatch this guy up in a hurry,” Janet said. �
��If you have Chef Nathaniel preparing lunches, and Chef Luis here in the evening, you’re going to have to beat off the crowd with sticks. Hey, wait a minute. You’re not open for lunch.”

  “We will be starting soon,” I said. “Nate is a retired chef who’s bored and said he’d take the lunch crowd for us.”

  “Okay,” Janet said, “back to our situation. I can’t do anything about Victor because I don’t have anything to tie him and the murder together. Nothing solid, that is. I want – ”

  “Can’t you have someone watch him?” I asked, interrupting.

  “Not enough manpower right now.”

  Chris smiled. “So we’re still in the game then.”

  “It’s not a game, and yes you are,” Janet said, grudgingly. “I want you to share anything and everything you find out with me. Understood? And you’re not to take unnecessary chances of any kind.”

  She turned to me. I knew that technically Janet could tell us to back off, but she knew we wouldn’t. A warning was the best she could do at the moment.

  “You do recall almost being murdered some months back, right?” Janet was playing dirty by reminding me.

  “Yes. How could I forget? We’re not taking any dangerous chances. John Jackson had apparently found out about our business. We think he followed us. On the off chance that he’d figured out where we lived, we sent Mikey to stay with Constance for a few days, but I think he can come home now. We don’t know anything about the partner, and he’s probably figured that out since we haven’t been watching him.

  “The only one who’s seen him is Addie, and she’s in hiding. He’ll never find her at Jasmine’s house.” I was proud of the way we’d taken care of things.

  Janet’s expression was skeptical, at best, but she refrained from saying anything.

  Nate returned with his cart and the entrees.

  “You’re hired,” Chris said, patting his stomach.

  “But you haven’t tried the – ”

  “We will, but the fact remains that you’re going to be a blessing for Bogey Nights.”

  Janet and I turned to each other.

  “Did he just say blessing?” Janet asked.

  “I believe he did,” I replied, “which tells me there’s hope for him yet.”

  “It was a slip of the tongue,” Chris said. “I’ve spent way too much time around those Church Ladies.”

  Nate returned to the kitchen, smiling and whistling, and we gawked at the dishes he’d brought to us. Grilled Eggplant Parmigiana, bacon-wrapped cornish hens with a raspberry balsamic glaze, grilled salmon, and ratatouille, accompanied by carrots with shallots, sage, and thyme and green beans with a sweet onion vinaigrette. Just to make sure we couldn’t walk away from the table, he’d also left a Shoofly Pie.

  “No dinner for me tonight,” Janet said.

  “Me, either,” Chris added.

  “I may not eat for a week.” I patted my belly.

  “I’d like to meet these lady friends of yours,” Janet said. “Maybe I can glean something from talking to them that you missed.”

  “Can you come back here tonight?” I asked.

  “If I have to, but I’m so full that the sight of more food is going to be a problem.”

  “We’ll seat you in the lounge with the women,” Chris suggested. “You might have to smell food, but you won’t have to look at it.” He was grinning. He knew from Janet’s reactions that hiring Nate had been a smart move.

  Janet left after finishing her food, shaking her head in disgust because she’d eaten so much, and I called Jasmine. “Can you and the other ladies come to the restaurant tonight?” I asked.

  “Any special reason?”

  “I have a friend who’s a homicide detective, and she’d like to talk to you.”

  “Homicide detective? Did those men finally catch up to Victor? Oh, my goodness, Florence will be heartbroken. She just thinks that man walks on water, although you and I know of only One who can do that.” She chuckled.

  “Before you start praying for Victor’s soul, he’s okay.” Oops. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, and that sounded kind of snide. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. That came out wrong.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, kindly. “But what’s going on? What does your homicide detective want with us?”

  “The goon that drove the black truck, John, has been murdered. She’s looking into his death, and obviously we think it had something to do with the whole Victor thing.”

  “No,” she said, sounding surprised. “Someone killed the bad guy? I’ll get the girls together. His is one soul that does need prayer.” She tsked-tsked, and I rolled my eyes, glad we were on the phone instead of face to face. “I’ll also make sure everyone can be at the restaurant tonight. What time do you want us there?”

  We talked for a moment longer and I said dinner would be on us; to bring their appetites along. Jasmine blessed me and said goodbye, already talking to Addie as she hung up the phone.

  She called me back about ten minutes later. “We’ll all be there except Addie. This whole thing has really taken it out of her. She even made an appointment to see her doctor. Poor thing; she took on a lot more than she bargained for when she climbed into the camper. But as scared as she was of that bad man, she’s still going to pray for him with us. Of course, I wouldn’t have expected less from her.”

  “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Maybe Janet can visit Addie at your house. She’s the one she really needs to talk to since she saw and overheard the two men.”

  George Chandler, our waiter and George Raft look-alike, arrived shortly after I returned to the dining room. Phyllis and Gloria had Wednesdays and Thursdays off. George was joined about five minutes later by Susan French. Susan doesn’t resemble anyone but herself, although she does dress the part, and she’s rather exotic looking. I watched the two working together, and it briefly crossed my mind that they’d become somewhat of an item since they’d come to work for us.

  Ah, the world of restaurants. It seemed like there was always something going on.

  The phone rang and Susan tore herself away from George long enough to answer it. “Pamela, it’s for you. He says it’s personal. Someone named Victor?”

  She handed me the receiver. “Victor? What’s up?”

  “Plenty,” he replied. “The police were just here to see me.”

  Oh, crap! Chris and I had forgotten to call the intended victim. Some private eyes we were.

  “They told me that someone named John Jackson was murdered and they wanted to know if I knew him. Who’s John Jackson?” He sounded beyond irritated. “They didn’t tell me anything and they wouldn’t answer my questions. They just wanted to know if I knew John Jackson.”

  “He’s the man who drove the black truck with the white camper. He’s the man we suspect of being hired to murder you.”

  “Oh? So he’s dead? Then I guess things are all over and my life can go back to normal.” His tone of voice had definitely changed from aggravated to friendly.

  “Victor, don’t get too excited. You’re forgetting that Jackson had a partner. You’re not out of the woods yet, I’m sorry to say.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Victor sighed, loudly and dramatically. I figured that was for my benefit. “What now?” he asked.

  “The ladies are coming to the restaurant tonight to talk to a homicide detective. She’s going to be working on this, too, although she’ll be coming from the direction of the murder investigation. We don’t honestly know that Jackson’s death had to do with the threat against you.”

  “Well, make room for me, too. What time is everyone meeting? I want to be in on this. After all, we’re talking about my life here.”

  “Good idea,” I replied. “Can your retired cop friend come, too?”

  “Unfortunately, no. He had a family emergency to attend to. But at least I’ll be safe if I’m with all of you at the restaurant.”

  After telling him what time the ladies would arrive, we hung up.
I told him dinner was on the house. We were going to be offering a lot of free dinners, but what the heck? Maybe we’d finally accomplish something. I also suggested that he park in back and come in through the office door so he wouldn’t be seen, just in case Jackson’s partner was nearby. I explained about the dogs and told him they were friendly, but I’d wait for him outside so they couldn’t jump all over him.

  Hanging up the receiver, I turned to find Chris standing behind me.

  “We forgot to call Victor,” I said. “I can’t believe we both forgot him. He’s what this whole thing is about.”

  Chris looked sheepish. “We dropped the ball, but it won’t happen again. I won’t let it.”

  “This had been an extremely busy day.” I sat down on a chair in the waiting area. “I can’t wait to finish things up and go home to our nice, warm bed.”

  Chris grinned at me. “Come here, doll.” He pulled me up and held me close. “Maybe we can find some new ways to keep that bed warm tonight.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked.

  “Nah. All this drama keeps my blood flowing and my brain on the alert.”

  “You big lummox. Doesn’t anything ever get you down?”

  “Nope. Why don’t you go have a glass of wine to calm you down while I open the restaurant? Just this once.”

  “No, I’m tired enough already. A cup of coffee would make more sense.”

  “Then take a cup of coffee with you back to the office and relax. I’ll take care of things for a while.” Chris unlocked the front door.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?” I asked.

  “It’ll be slow for now. You go unwind.”

  What a guy. He really cared about me.

  Luis had coffee ready for the customers and he poured me a cup to take back to the office. “You look tired, Pamela. No offense,” he added quickly. “You’re always a vision, but you do appear tired tonight.”

 

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