“Yet you did.”
“I wish you and Pete would get along.”
Stan smiled wanly but didn’t offer any agreement.
I went on, “Before I forget, I need to talk to you about Dean.”
“What about?” he asked.
“You like the guy, right?”
“Yes, he’s a good friend.”
“Good enough to date your sister?”
Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “He’s…rather promiscuous….”
I rolled my eyes. “Says the man who nailed his nineteen-year-old secretary.”
He had the grace to smile. “Point noted.” After thinking for a moment, he relented, “I suppose he’s better than some of her dubious choices in men.”
“That’s exactly what I said. I think he wanted your blessing as a friend but was afraid of having this conversation with you. He’s crazy about Abigail.”
“And she’s crazy, so they should get along perfectly.”
I swatted him on the arm. “That’s a mean thing to say about your sister, even if it is true.”
Stan chuckled, but then sobered quickly. “Speaking of crazy, I overheard an argument between Mallory and Jack Beaumont at the club earlier today. More precisely, the entire club heard their argument. Jack was at the bar, drinking in the middle of the day, when Mallory came flying in and started screaming at him. The reason why I’m telling you this is because he mentioned you and Pete by name, and his comments weren’t exactly kind.”
I put my head in my hands. “I’m sure they weren’t. You remember the girl who was murdered in my apartment building?”
“Yes, the girl you found.”
“Right. Well, she was having an affair with Jack. I found out, and like a good citizen, I told the police. I hated to be the one to snitch on him, especially since I know him.”
He nodded. “You can’t be expected to hide things, though, not with your boyfriend working the case.”
“Off topic, but Ryder and I aren’t together anymore.”
“I won’t say I’m upset by that.”
Frowning, I said, “Will no one give me any sympathy for my breakup?”
“You can’t expect me of all people to be sympathetic. You dumped me for him.”
“Oh, boo-hoo. If I hadn’t, it would have been me you were cheating on with your secretary.”
“Touché,” he said, grinning. “So Jack is stepping out on his beautiful wife.”
“I hate to even think it, but I’ve heard more than one person has seen Jack and Chelsea together.”
“And Jack knows you were the one who told the police about it.”
“Right.”
“I’d watch my back if I were you. I’ve heard it’s not wise to make Jack Beaumont your enemy.” As he flicked his eyes from my propped-up leg to my bandaged arm, his face grew alarmed. “You don’t think he would…”
I let out a slow breath. “I’ve been trying not to jump to that conclusion, but it’s getting more and more difficult.”
“Do you need a bodyguard? Because I’ll hire you a bodyguard.”
I smiled. “I know you would, and thank you, but it’s not necessary. I’m keeping my nose well out of this mess from now on.”
Stan’s forehead wrinkled in consternation. “Please do. You seem to have a talent for finding danger.”
Changing the subject away from myself, I asked, “What else did you hear Jack say besides Pete and Juliet are the devil?”
“That was about it from him, because Mallory didn’t let him get in a word after she got going. She was incensed about the police ransacking their house. She said they’d found and collected a cellphone, which was a crucial piece of evidence, and that Jack had better get two lawyers—one criminal and one divorce.”
I tensed at the mention of a cellphone, thinking back to the mysterious burner phone the police found at Chelsea’s apartment, the one she only used to call one number—another prepaid phone. According to Trevor, Ryder and Cromwell had been intent on finding the owner of that other phone.
“Was anything more said about the phone?”
He frowned, as if trying to recollect the conversation. “I don’t think so. Mallory was furious and not making a great deal of sense. She said something about Jack putting her career on the line, as well as their life together.”
“Weird. How could something Jack did affect Mallory’s career?”
Stan shrugged. “Like I said, she wasn’t particularly coherent. Right before she stormed out, she started ranting about the phone being the smoking gun that would ruin them both.”
“Ruin them both?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was it possible that Mallory was somehow mixed up in this mess, too? “Pete!” I called.
Pete came into the living room, still grumpy. “What?”
“Listen to this—it sounds like Jack may be dragging Mallory down with him into this cluster. Stan, tell him what you told me.”
Stan recounted the story to Pete, who, by the skeptical expression on his face, was not buying anything Stan was selling. I wasn’t surprised by it.
After Stan finished, Pete turned to me. “You told me last night you wanted to hang up your sleuthing cap. Your words. Now after hearing a little gossip from Stan you want to do what—rat out our friend Mallory, too?”
My mouth dropped open. “No, I want to do nothing of the kind. I only thought you’d want to be aware of the fact that Mallory could be in trouble. Besides, it sounds like the police found some evidence in Jack and Mallory’s house. I’m sure they’ll proceed accordingly, and without our help.”
After our snippy exchange, there was an awkward silence. Stan stood up. “Well, I have to get going. You stay safe, okay?”
I smiled. “I will. Thanks for the flowers and the visit.”
“My pleasure,” he replied, heading quickly to the door.
Pete locked the door behind him. “I don’t like this, Jules. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Stan, but if the police are searching Jack’s house for evidence, they’re closing in. And based on what Stan said, if you can believe what he said, Jack is well aware of it and blames us. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to say no to Stan’s offer to get you a bodyguard.”
“You have a point,” I murmured, then let out a bark of laughter. “Wait a minute. How did you know Stan offered me a bodyguard? Were you eavesdropping?”
Pete hung his head sheepishly. “Busted. I got bored, but not bored enough to come out here and play nice with Stan.”
I shook my head and laughed. “You’re a mess.”
The doorbell rang, and I tensed. All this talk about Jack and revenge had me more spooked than I wanted to admit.
Pete walked backward to the door, keeping his eye on me and grinning. “If I’m such a mess, maybe I won’t share the tacos I ordered with you.”
Relieved it was only the delivery guy and not Jack coming to finish the job he’d started last night, I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled back at Pete. “If you’ve got tacos, I take it all back.”
Chapter 27
After we’d eaten our weight in Mexican food, aborted three stupid movies in a row at the ten-minute mark, and I’d made it clear to Pete that I would listen to no more hair bands for the next twenty-four hours, we were officially out of things to do.
“Let’s go to Java Jive,” I said.
I knew I had an unhealthy connection to the place, not being able to relax and let it run itself. In many ways, it was like my baby—as much work as it was and as much of a toll as it took on me mentally, physically, and emotionally, I still never wanted to be away from it. I guessed if you could be co-dependent with a non-living entity, that’s what I was.
“You need to rest,” Pete said.
“I’m tired of resting,” I whined. “I’m going nuts here!”
“Don’t blame me. You were already well on your way.”
“Ha, ha. Come on, you’re bored, too. Please? It’s open mic night.”
�
��Don’t try to trick me. Open mic was yesterday. You only want to go so you can check up on the staff.”
True, but I also had a horrible case of cabin fever. “If I admit it, will you drive me?”
Pete sighed heavily. “You’re going to bug me until I take you, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
“Let’s go.”
—
It was no easy task to get myself out of the house, into Pete’s car, out of Pete’s car, and into the coffeehouse. By the time I made it to the counter, I was exhausted.
“See? You’re not ready for this,” Pete pointed out.
“I’m fine.” I turned to my baristas, Cole and Kira. “Hi, guys. Everything okay?”
Kira, who seemed to be in better spirits than when I saw her last, said, “We’re doing great. It hasn’t been too busy. The question is, how are you doing?”
Cole, who also seemed to be more like himself, said, “Yeah, we heard you got run over. Did it hurt?”
“Yes, it hurt, but I should be back to work in a couple of days.”
Pete said, “If you don’t rest, you won’t be. Now go sit down.”
I dutifully hobbled over to the couch and sat down. Pete grabbed a pillow from a neighboring chair and put it on the table for me to rest my foot on and then went back to the kitchen to get me an ice pack. While I didn’t mind his attention, I couldn’t handle the guilty look in his eye. No matter what I said, he still felt responsible for the accident.
Pete returned with a bag of ice and a lovely Caramel Marshmallow Lush, our newest espresso concoction, a three-shot latte with toasted marshmallow syrup, topped with a mountain of whipped cream, house-made marshmallows, and a caramel drizzle. Basically sex in a cup as far as I was concerned, but Pete wouldn’t let me name it that.
“Ooh, yum,” I said after taking a sip. “I’m afraid you’re taking care of me a little too well. Between the late-night pizza, Gertie’s cookies, the truckload of tacos, and now this, you’re going to need a crane to haul me around.”
“I think you’ll survive,” he replied, sitting down next to me with his own drink. “Well, you’re here. Happy now?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You love this place every bit as much as Pop did. I can see it all over your face.”
My eyes misted over. “It’s home to me. I feel more at peace here than anywhere on earth.”
“He always did say you were his best employee. You were definitely his favorite.”
My jaw dropped. “You weren’t his favorite?” Pete had worked here all through high school and college for his late father, George, the original owner of Java Jive.
He chuckled. “Nah. I was just another one of the hired help.” That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Pete and his dad were inseparable, and when George had died a couple of years ago, Pete was crushed. He went on, his voice becoming husky, “Pop would have been so proud of you, especially for pulling his baby out of the depths of hell and returning it to its glory days.” He put his arm around me and pressed a kiss to my temple.
Thinking about George brought tears to my eyes. He was my first boss, and one of the most wonderful men I’d ever met. He was the heart and soul of this place, and without him there was a definite void. After he’d passed, the coffeehouse had nearly run into the ground with no one to properly manage it full-time. That’s where I came in. I’d lost everything—my fiancé, my restaurant, my money, and all my belongings. Pete convinced me to move back to Nashville and run the place for him. I had never really felt worthy to walk in George’s big shoes until this moment.
I put my head on Pete’s shoulder so he couldn’t see the tears slipping from my eyes. I whispered, “I miss your dad.”
His grip on my shoulder tightened. “Me, too.”
—
My knee hurt slightly less after a while, so I wandered back to the kitchen under the guise of checking our food supply. In actuality, I wanted to prepare a couple of batches of cookie dough for tomorrow, both to alleviate some extra work for Rhonda and Camille, and because it was something to keep me busy and stop my incessant dwelling on whether or not Jack was capable of doing bodily harm to Pete and me. Pete had gone into the office to do some accounting work, so he wasn’t there to tell me no. I had Shane help me gather my ingredients and find a stool for me to sit on while I made the dough.
I was elbow-deep in a big plastic container of flour when I heard the front door slam. It was an odd occurrence, because you had to intentionally turn around and force the door closed to get it to make any noise. I grabbed my crutches and limped out of the kitchen. I heard the commotion before I even got out of the hallway.
“Where are they? I know they’re here every night. They have no lives! Pete! Juliet! I have a bone to pick with you!”
When I got to the front of the house, everyone in the place was openmouthed and staring at Mallory, who stood in the middle of the room, hair and eyes wild, breathing heavily and daring the world to cross her. Cole and Kira were frozen behind the counter, presumably not knowing whether to come and get Pete and me or to try to shield us from the crazy lady.
Mallory approached the counter, pointing at Kira and glaring. “I know you. Tell me where they are! Now!”
Kira started shaking, eyes as huge as saucers. She backed away, pressing herself against the wall behind the counter. She flicked her eyes at me, and Mallory followed her gaze.
“There you are!” she screeched, turning her wrath on me.
Before I could say anything, Pete hurried around me and toward Mallory, hands out in a self-defensive position. “Hey, Mallory, calm down. What’s wrong?”
She swayed as she threw her hands in the air. “What’s wrong? As if you didn’t know! Here I thought you two—” She stopped to shake a finger at us, then slurred, “You two were my friends, and I find out you’ve run as fast as you could to the police to…unjustly accuse my husband of murder!”
Pete, well aware that all eyes were on us, said to her very calmly, “Come on back to the office where we can talk about this in private.”
When he reached for her arm, Mallory jerked away before he could touch her. “I will not! Everyone needs to know what you’ve done. Jack has been arrested! My Jack! My husband. For murder. You know he’s not a murderer. You know him! How could you do this to me?”
Pete shot me a look out of the corner of his eye. Lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, he replied to her, “Don’t pin this on us. Jack is messed up in this situation—there’s no denying it. Someone ran over Juliet last night, and based on his behavior lately, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Mallory’s eyes widened as she took in my crutches and bandaged arm. “Ran you over? With a car?”
“Yes, with a car,” I hissed. “Did you happen to notice a big dent in Jack’s front fender about the size and shape of my leg?”
She shook her head as if to clear it, but then her eyes glazed over again. “Well, maybe…maybe you had it coming after what you did to him. It’s your fault my husband is in jail, and I’m all alone! You’ll pay for this!” With that, she broke down sobbing and fled the coffeehouse, her hands covering her face.
Pete let out a low whistle. “Is it just me, or is everyone we know completely batshit crazy?”
“That wasn’t the normal Mallory. She was definitely hammered or on something or both. I feel so bad for her.” I added under my breath, “Not to mention guilty.”
He came over and stood close to me. “Don’t you dare feel guilty. If Jack is innocent in all this, the evidence will prove it. Didn’t you tell me that once?”
“Yes, but I thought you of all people would have more sympathy for a man who could quite possibly be wrongfully accused.”
“I did until he hurt you.”
I hid a smile at his words. “We don’t know for sure Jack was driving that car.”
“Who else would want to run us over?”
“I don’t know about you, but I could prob
ably come up with an impressive list.”
He laughed. “I doubt if there’s a line of people waiting to end you. Besides, you kind of have a reputation of being hard to kill.”
I shuddered at the thought of my past brushes with death. “Unfortunately it doesn’t stop people from trying.”
—
After Pete had busted me for making cookie dough and banished me from the kitchen, he insisted I sit back down on the couch and made me yet another Caramel Marshmallow Lush, this one decaf, since it was getting late. He went back to the office to finish his work, giving me strict instructions not to move. The jerk also took my crutches so I wouldn’t be tempted.
As complete and utter boredom began to set in, Stafford walked through the door, waving as he noticed me. “I didn’t expect to see you back in the land of the living so soon. How are you feeling?”
“I’m better.” In truth, I was hurting worse by the minute because it was an hour past the time for a pain pill, and I’d forgotten to bring any with me.
He sat down next to me on the couch. “That’s good. Nothing seems to keep you down too long.” He smiled. “I came in with good news. I wanted to tell Kira in person that Jack Beaumont has been arrested in her roommate’s murder case. I told Cromwell and Hamilton I’d take care of this one since she’s in a delicate state and neither of them has any tact whatsoever.”
“You’re right. They don’t. And I’m sure Kira will rest a lot easier knowing that.” I hesitated. “John?”
“Yes?”
I wrinkled my forehead. “Are they sure Jack did it?”
Stafford smiled. “I think I know what’s going on inside that head of yours. Quit your worrying. He dug his own grave without any help from you, and we have enough evidence to hold him.”
“But would they even have looked at him if it weren’t for me and my big mouth?”
“Would you rather a murderer ran loose so you don’t have to feel guilty about doing your civic duty?”
I looked away, embarrassed. “Wow. When you put it that way, I guess it makes me a selfish brat.”
Stafford put his hand gently on my shoulder. “I wasn’t calling you that. I was trying to make a point. You’re the last person I’d call selfish.”
A Whole Latte Murder Page 25