“He phoned earlier, wanted to bring over a bottle of wine and some treats for the boys. When I told him I was coming to the roadhouse with you, he asked if he could join us. Sorry to spring a surprise, but I couldn’t say no.”
“ ’Course not. You did the right thing. I’m glad he’s coming,” I said, not really meaning it.
Anyway, we polished off our beers. On an empty stomach, even light lager created a nice buzz. When Miss Moonie strolled by, her tray empty, Amelia raised two fingers in the air. While we waited for our second round, should I go to the ladies’ room, wash off the makeup, and brush down my hair? No ma’am. Cletus was coming to see Amelia, not me. Besides, I kind of liked my hair this way. And I didn’t understand why blue eye shadow was such a no-no to all those big fashion experts in New York City.
We were nearly through our second beers when I spotted him. He was standing by the bar with … no … yes! Matt Rameros and a petite, curly-haired vision who barely came up to Matt’s shoulders. If that was his date, I sniffed, he must be feeling like a giant about now.
Leaning across the table, I shouted above the band’s foot stomping. “Cletus is here. Over by the bar.” I was about to wave and catch his attention when he half turned to greet someone. Well, I’ll be dipped. None other than Senator Lott’s aide, Trey Gregson, as serious and stern-faced as I recalled. What on earth was he doing here?
As Gregson went over to shake Matt’s hand, Cletus glanced around the crowded room. He spotted our table, waved, and raised a finger in the air.
“He’ll be over in a minute.”
Visibly tense, Amelia gripped her beer bottle as if some yahoo was about to rip it out of her hands. All this tension because of Cletus? Well, different strokes.
“Ladies!”
“You made it.” Amelia’s voice went all fluttery. “Do join us.” Even under the kliegs, her rainbow face flushed a bright pink.
He borrowed a chair from a nearby table and sat, knees banging into ours. “Sure is a lively spot. Haven’t been here much since my college days. Nothing’s changed, I see.”
“Nope,” I replied, “except for a few new faces hanging on the walls. That’s how the regulars like it, I guess. Maybe newcomers do too, like the senator’s aide over there.”
“I was also rather surprised to see him. Said he’s scouting out local bands. When the senator kicks off his campaign, he wants some music to liven things up.” Cletus shook his head. “I’m no judge, but that sure doesn’t sound like music to me.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t. Not at all,” Amelia said.
“You know your music, Miss Amelia?”
“A little.” Her cheeks were pinker than ever.
“Maybe you can teach me about it some time.”
“I’d surely love to,” she said.
Well, I’d be darned. This was chemistry in action. And two weeks ago to the very night, at the Eureka Falls Inn, Cletus told me I was a perfect woman. Perfect. That was what he said. While I hadn’t believed a single word, it sure made for easy listening. Now, tonight, if I wasn’t mistaken—and I’ve got Grandma Ingersoll’s sixth sense for this kind of thing—he was romancing Amelia.
Not that I blamed him. Not a single bit. With her lacy sleeves flowing over her arms, her flushed cheeks and her hair easing into little, bitty curls around her face, she was beyond beautiful, not to mention the sweetest person in the whole wide world.
Just about then, Miss Moonie plunked down three cold ones. Where had they come from? I didn’t worry about it and took a hefty swig. So did Cletus, staring at Amelia over his upturned bottle. After he got through drinking her in, he swiveled his glance over to me. “You look lovely tonight too, Honey. I’m a lucky man to be sitting here between two such beauties.” His eyes narrowed. “Though I must say, you do look different this evening.”
“It’s the rainbow,” I said, conscious of the beers guiding my tongue.
“Not just that. There’s something else.”
“Well, you’re just the same darling Cletus you’ve always been. You never change. You know what, just for fun, why don’t we change you too just a li’l ol’ bit.” The beers had definitely taken over. I could hear them talking. When had I eaten last, anyway? Breakfast. Those two leftover donuts. I set my bottle down and didn’t give him a chance to refuse. “Allow me.” I reached up and undid the knot in his lilac tie.
“Now, Miss Honey, that’s enough.” He laid his hands over mine, but I shook them off.
“Don’t ‘Miss Honey’ me, you great big sweetie.” Ignoring Amelia’s frown, I grabbed one end of the tie and slid it out from under his collar like a limp snake. Once I’d whipped it off, I tossed it on the table right on top of the wet beer rings. “Now for your buttons.” Before he could figure out how to stop me, I undid the top one and then the next. “My, my, you certainly have chest hair, Cletus, you sexy ol’ dog you.” I put a hand on his arm and ran it up above his elbow. “Now for the best part. Your sleeve garters.”
“Honey …” Amelia warned.
“It’s all right,” Cletus said. “She’s just having a little fun at my expense. I think she needs it.”
“Zackly.” I launched out of my seat, and bending over him, slipped off one garter then the other and dropped them over the little glass oil lamp in the center of our table. Ignoring the gel that felt icky against my fingers, I ruffled up his carefully combed hair.
“Your part’s gone all to hell, Cletus, but that’s the whole idea. Now, if you’d kindly take off your cufflinks.”
At that, he stared at me, as stunned as if I’d asked him to take off his pants.
“Go ahead. Go ahead. Put them in your pocket or something and roll up your sleeves.”
Amelia leaped to her feet. “Let’s go to the ladies’ room.”
“No.” I folded my arms. “I don’t have to pee.”
“Omigod. She’s had a terrible week,” Amelia said from somewhere far away. “Maybe coming out tonight wasn’t such a good idea.”
“ ’Course it was,” I retorted in a voice I didn’t recognize.
“Let’s go.”
“No. I’m not leaving this sex machine alone.” I waved my arms around. “There are man-hunting women all over the place. Anything might happen to him. You want that on your conscience?”
Amelia didn’t flinch. “Either you come to the ladies’ room this instant, or I’ll ask Cletus to take me home.”
My chin wobbled. “You’d leave me here alone?”
“No. Under the care and supervision of the bouncer.”
She meant business. I’d only seen that determined set to her jaw once before, the day I drove her to the Yarborough County Court House for her divorce. There was no arguing with that jaw, so I polished off what was left of my drink and blew out a beery breath. “Very well. You win.”
“I don’t believe this is a winning situation.” Amelia clamped her teeth together and led me to a door against the back wall with the cutest little cowgirl you ever did see painted on it.
The ladies’ room was empty.
“Guess nobody else has to pee either.” I pointed to the empty stalls.
Hands on hips, Amelia leaned against a wash basin. “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ I know you’re upset about those two murders, as you have every right to be. But more than that is eating at you. I’m your friend, Honey. You can trust me. So, for God’s sake, whatever’s the matter, tell me. Let it out. Let it all out.”
I stared past her at a mirror that threw back the image of high-piled blonde hair and big blue, owly eyes—well, some kind of animally eyes. They kept opening and closing, seeing two of everything, then everything they saw began to churn. The sight made me sick of a sudden, and stomach heaving, I dashed for one of the empty stalls. Good thing. Like an exploding volcano, up came the lager lights, spewing out of my mouth into the toilet bowl, just barely missing my tooled boots.
When the retching ended, I stumbled over to the bank of wash basins. Amelia
wiped my face with damp paper towels and waited, arms crossed on her chest, while I washed my hands and rinsed my mouth. Then, both hands leaning on the sink rim, I risked a peek in the mirror. My piled-up hair had tilted to one side.
“Well?” Amelia’s foot was tapping.
“Sam’s getting married in December, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
If I expected Sam’s news to blow Amelia away like a dust bunny, I was mistaken.
Her hazel eyes brimmed with sympathy. “He’s not the only pup in the litter. I know that for a fact, so learn from me, Honey. I had to have Joe Swope. Nobody else would do. And look what he put me through.”
“But—”
She swatted my protest away with a flick of her hand. “I know, I know. Sam isn’t Joe, far from it. But he isn’t worth making yourself miserable over either. No man is. Not a single one of ’em. That’s why, if I ever marry again, it won’t be for passion. It doesn’t last. What you need, Honey, is someone who will care for you. With a man like that, a woman can be happy her whole life long.”
She meant well, I knew that, so to the music of a flushing toilet, I hugged her. “Have Cletus take you home, okay? I think I’ll leave as soon as that beer’s out of my system.”
She nodded and gave me a farewell hug in return. “Call you in the morning.” She laughed. “Not too early.”
I did pee after all. Then, using paper towels from the dispenser, I washed off every speck of makeup and raked a comb through my hair, letting it fall straight and natural as usual.
When I unscrewed the foot-long earrings, the girl touching up her face at the next sink glanced over. “Whatever did you do that for? I love those earrings.”
I held them out. “Here. They’re yours.”
Her eyes gleamed. “You mean it?”
“Yup.”
“Oh gee, thanks. I’ll put them on right now.”
At least I’d made one person happy tonight. Terrific. On the minus side, I’d hurt a valuable relationship with the Eureka Falls Savings & Loan and nearly wrecked my friendship with Amelia.
I sat in an empty stall for a while, clearing my head and my bladder, then, sorry but sober, I squared my shoulders and walked out into a roadhouse electric with energy. A different band had taken over the stage and had the place rocking. Sounded like they could bring a political rally to fever pitch with no trouble at all.
To the pounding rhythm of “Shake It for Me, Girl,” I inched through the crowd, trying not to make eyeball contact with anyone. I just wanted to go home, snuggle under my comforter, and tune out the world.
No such luck. As I sidled past the bar, a low, cultured voice said, “Well, Honey Ingersoll, as I live and breathe.”
Shit. In a simple red-linen sheath dress that was wrong for the roadhouse and right for every other reason on earth, stood none other than Lila Lott.
Putting her to the test, I held out a hand. “Miss Lott.”
She flunked. Without taking my hand or inviting me to call her Lila, she turned to Trey Gregson at her elbow. “You remember Honey, don’t you, Trey? She works for Sam.”
He half bowed and nodded. “Come here often?”
“My first visit in five years. You?”
Lila laughed, a fluty, bell-like trill. I itched to slap her.
“Trey and I only dropped in to judge the band for Daddy.”
“Oh? Not for your wedding?” Some ornery demon spoke those words, not an angel the likes of li’l ol’ Miss Honey Ingersoll.
She let her gaze trail over me, kind of slow-like. I swear she didn’t miss a single mirror glittering on my camisole. “But I’ve heard enough, so I’ll be off.” She tilted her chin at the stage. “Book them, Trey,” she ordered, and with a cool nod for me, she sauntered toward the front entrance.
“Guess I better look for the manager,” he said with a half-smile, his gaze following Lila’s slim red back as she wove her way through the crowd.
In the middle of all those jeans and plaid-shirted locals, she was like a bright-feathered bird or a tropical flower, out of place and ripe for plucking. And then it happened. A big, bearded guy jumped up from his chair and blocked her path. She tried dodging past him, but no dice. The big guy looked to be beered up and about as unmovable as a full-grown oak tree.
From where we stood, we couldn’t hear what he was saying, but we didn’t have to. Whatever he was selling, Lila clearly wasn’t buying.
“Be back.” Trey moved through the crowd as fast as a snake through grass and hurried over to Lila. They exchanged a few words; then, draping a hand over her shoulders, he pulled her close.
Big Guy flung a chair out of the way. It hit the floor with a bang that echoed over the music. Two men at the same table leaped to their feet and tried to pull him back. He was having none of it and whacked them away with his fists.
I glanced around. Where was that bouncer?
Busy working a tap, the bartender hadn’t noticed the ruckus.
I ran over to him. “You’ve got trouble in here. Get some help fast.”
Startled, he let the beer overflow the glass, served it up to a waiting Miss Moonie and yanked his cell phone out of a pocket.
Big Guy was shouting now. Trey had shoved Lila behind him. With that bully ready to wipe him out, he scanned the room, eyes feverish, searching for help.
Like a hero in a cowboy movie, the good guy arrived in the nick of time. With no bugles, no spurs, not even a horse, Matt Rameros stepped between the two men.
Half the body weight of the bully and half a foot shorter, he stood, legs apart, hands on hips. He was out of uniform, so if he was packing, I couldn’t tell. Couldn’t hear what he said either, but stomach clenched, I watched every move, waiting for a dustup that never happened. Whatever he said was magic. Within minutes, someone righted the fallen chair and the bully slumped into it, droopy as a pricked balloon.
Trey, holding Lila by the arm, hurried her out the front door.
Now that the horses were all safe in the corral, the bouncer came running up to Matt. Wouldn’t you know?
Longing for a breath of fresh air, I’d about reached the exit when Matt’s, “Honey, wait up a minute,” stopped me in my tracks.
While he held the door open, he gave me a thorough eye search. “You look like hell. What’s the matter?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You came in with Amelia Swope. Why you leaving without her?”
My turn for hands on hips. “Since when is my business your business?”
“I could say since the day you reported a Caddy stolen. But I’d be wrong. Our history’s longer than that.”
“Go back to your date, Matt. Enjoy the rest of the evening. I’m going home.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
I strolled outside. “You don’t need to.”
“Let me be the judge of what’s needed.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your date?”
A slow smile lit his face. Starting with the corners of his lips, it spread until it reached his eyes. “She’s in good hands.”
That smile starting to rile me, I changed the subject. “First time I’ve seen you in civvies. You look nice.” He did. Handsome, actually. “You should wear white shirts all the time.”
“The town council might have something to say about that.”
“Off duty, I meant.”
“A compliment?”
“Yup.”
As he took my arm, I inhaled a deep breath of the clean, crisp midnight air. It was spring water clear. No beer. No burgers. Just Mother Nature at her best. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I felt safe having Matt by my side. The fight he’d stopped had been a reminder that danger stalked the streets of Eureka Falls, and I’d best not forget it.
“How did you get that bully to back down so fast, you out of uniform and all?”
“Little Moose McGill? He’s been a frequent guest in our town jail. So it was e
asy enough. I borrowed a line from Clint Eastwood.”
“Which is?”
“Go ahead, make my day.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s out on parole. One more arrest, he heads for state prison. A long stretch and he knows it.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t help but sigh. “What a day, what a week …. What a life. I might as well throw that in.”
“Sounds like you need to get home.” Matt still had his hand on my arm. “Where’s your car?”
“On the edge of the lot, near the fence. Next to a Jaguar XJ.”
“That should be easy to spot.”
We picked our way over the rutted, gravelly ground, a slice of moon lighting our footsteps.
“There it is,” I said, “three cars over.”
A few feet behind us, someone brought a pickup to roaring life and backed out of a slot. Headlights flaring, he shifted into drive, lurched forward, and swerved around us. As the truck drove off, its high beams lit up the row of parked cars.
Omigod. I grabbed Matt’s arm and came to a sudden stop. In the backseat of the Jag, oblivious to the world around them, Lila Lott and Trey Gregson were locked in each other’s arms, deep in the mother of all passionate kisses.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Walk on by,” Matt said.
We did, arm in arm. At the Lincoln, I unlocked the driver’s side door and got in, wincing at the flash of ceiling light.
“They’re so caught up in there, I don’t think they noticed us,” Matt said.
I nodded, but anxious to peel away, I didn’t bother to mention a girlie tidbit. In the dark, they might not have recognized Matt, but when the truck’s headlights flashed past, the mirrors on my camisole lit up like a fourth of July sparkler. One quick glimpse was all Lila would have needed.
“Be careful. Lock up tight when you get home.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll stick around for a while. See where they go. Make sure they don’t follow you.”
“What about your date? She must be waiting for you inside.” Why am I harping on that?
In the sliver of moonlight, I caught a glimpse of a white grin. “Like I mentioned, she’s in good hands,” he said then paused. “I’ll explain another time, if you’re interested.”
Murder on Pea Pike Page 11