Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers

by Diane Capri

  “Cass is awesome! I’ve never seen Garbo play like that. Ever!” Josh was smiling broadly and full of energy.

  Cass and Garbo circled behind him, out of breath, and headed to the water bowl. Mac had been in hiding while Cass was busy with her play date. Now he came out from whatever hole he had slunk into and walked right up to Garbo, hissing and clawing at the poor girl. Then ran away.

  “Mac!” I yelled, horrified, and then turned to Joshua. “I am so sorry!” Garbo whimpered. “He’s a bit possessive about Cass.”

  “I can see that,” Joshua said bending over to check on Garbo, chuckling to himself. “She’s fine. Between you and me,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “she’s kind of a baby.”

  I handed him a bottle of water and as I did, he spotted the paper on the counter.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “I don’t think you want to read that,” I said. “It’s garbage. I didn’t even finish it.” But it was too late. Joshua bent over the counter and stared intently at the paper for a few minutes. When he finished he looked up at me.

  “I can’t believe this. Who wrote this?” He looked at the paper again. “Jackson Owens? Who is this guy? I can’t believe he mentioned I was in prison! And to write what he did about you! What an ass!”

  “Jackson used to be a regular at the bar. He wanted to do a documentary on Nick, or so he said.” I stood there shaking my head and then I jerked my eyes back over to Joshua. “Wait. What? You were in prison?” I immediately recalled the vision I had of him when we shook hands.

  “You really didn’t read all of it, did you?”

  “No.” But now I wished I had.

  He handed the paper to me. I walked over to the table and sat down, my eyes rapidly scanning the page.

  And now, the long lost son of Nick Gordin has returned from Africa where he has spent time trying to cleanse his past after spending five years in prison for the second-degree murder of one his mother’s boyfriends. A mother, I might add, who stole Gordin from his fiancée thirty years ago and apparently forgot to tell her son for another thirty years who his daddy really was.

  Like a game of Clue, there are plenty of potential suspects out there who might have had a hand in Nick’s death. It’s just a matter of putting the pieces together. Then again, maybe no one really cares what happened to a washed up actor who finished his days tending a dive bar.

  I looked up and stared at Joshua for a few beats. “Murder?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  AFTER TOSSING JACKSON’S ARTICLE into a nearby recycling can, Joshua and I made our way out to the pool for some brownies and to wait for the dogs to catch a second wind. We both chewed the chocolaty goodness, not saying anything, until he finally broke the silence.

  “I expect you’re wondering what happened … I mean, regarding the so-called murder and my time in prison.”

  I nodded, if a bit hesitantly. “Look, Joshua. It’s not really any of my business. I am curious, but I don’t expect you to give me the whole story.”

  He sighed heavily. “Yeah, well, the thing is, I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of homicidal maniac, especially since we’ll be working together and all.” He took another swig of his water and gazed off into the distance.

  “I was twenty and we were living in New York. I was going to NYU. I came home one night to see my mom and do some laundry,” he sighed. “She was dating this guy I didn’t like. He just didn’t treat her right. Kind of verbally abusive and Mom always seemed upset when he was around. Anyway, he was there that night when I got there. And…” he closed his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the memory. “This guy was beating her. I lost it and I threw a few punches. One landed real hard, the guy went flying back, hit his head on a counter, and hemorrhaged.” He paused, rubbing his face tiredly. “So yeah, I killed him.”

  “You were protecting your mom. And while I don’t condone violence to stop violence, well, I can’t say I would have done any different.” I reached over and touched his hand, knowing full well I would see the same images I’d seen when we first met. I let my hand linger on his little longer than usual. He glanced over at me and smiled. I could tell some of the sadness had been erased. His eyes were brighter and his frown lifted. “Anyway, it was clearly an accident. I doubt you intended to kill the guy, right?”

  Joshua nodded and continued his story. “That’s why the jury decided on a manslaughter verdict. I went to prison for five years. When I got out, I volunteered for the Red Cross. No matter the reason, killing someone leaves a horrible stain on your soul. It never leaves you, and I needed to do something good. I needed to give back in a way that went above and beyond.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  “You know what? As awful as that time was, I can say with certainty it made me a better man. I used to have quite a temper, and although that guy was beating my mom, I know now I could have managed the situation differently.” He shrugged. “In any event, had I not killed that guy and ended up in prison for five years, I would never have gone to Africa, and I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.”

  “You miss it? Africa?”

  He nodded, smiling wistfully. “I do, but I realize now it was probably time for me to rejoin the world here and think about my future, having a family, that sort of thing. I couldn’t see raising a family in Africa. Too much upheaval and violence, at least where I was.”

  “What do you plan to do now? I mean, obviously you have the bar, but is that what you want?”

  He cocked his head to the side, looking like a particularly handsome little boy. “I’m not really sure yet. I love to cook. I was even thinking about culinary school and maybe expanding the bar into a restaurant. The problem with that is capital. I don’t have a way to fund it.”

  I almost mentioned Simone, but decided against it for the moment. She had the money to back something like that, but I didn’t want to start throwing out a possible solution without the certainty she would follow through.

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” I smiled.

  Joshua smiled again and stretched sexily. “You are so different from most girls. Well,” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper, “from most girls here in L.A.”

  I lowered my voice to match his. “That’s because I’m not what I seem. I’m from Texas, remember?” We smiled at each other silently for a long moment and just as it was starting to feel awkward, I took a quick, nervous sip of water. “Fact is, most girls I’ve seen out here are beautiful and…”

  “Superficial,” he cut in.

  I thought of Simone. “There are a few good eggs around.”

  He stood suddenly, and at first I thought he was going to reach out and touch my face, the way his hand lifted, but instead he balled up his fist and gently grazed his knuckles across my head, back and forth. It felt like I’d suddenly gained a big brother.

  “You’re a good egg.”

  I stood and laughed. “You don’t know me that well!”

  “I don’t need to. I can tell.”

  Our eyes locked again and my stomach dropped into my toes. I don’t know what would have happened had Cass not dived into the pool, followed by a less graceful Garbo. The combined force of the two dogs hitting the water resulted in a mighty splash that doused Joshua and I from head to toe. We both started laughing, and the moment we’d shared was broken.

  Joshua picked at his wet t-shirt. “I guess, we should dry off and head to the bar. It’s getting late.”

  “Yep.” I grabbed the now-empty brownie platter and stepped back into my flip-flops. “Let me drop this stuff off in the kitchen, and I’ll grab you a dry towel.” I jerked my head around the side of the pool. “There’s a full bathroom and changing room just over there if you need some privacy.”

  “Sounds good.” Joshua picked up the empty water bottles and followed me into the kitchen. “Why don’t you get a few extra towels and I can dry o
ff these two mutts.”

  After getting Joshua and the dogs settled, I quickly changed clothes in my room and ran the dryer over my head. I found myself thinking about Lucas and couldn’t help wondering when he’d be back and what he was up to. I liked Lucas. A lot. But Joshua was the real deal … as in living.

  When I walked back into the kitchen, I noticed Joshua had retrieved the paper with Jackson’s article from the recycling bin. He didn’t hear or see me come in, and I watched him carefully fold it and stuff it into his back pocket. I thought it was kind of odd, but decided against saying anything. Maybe he didn’t want me reading the article again. Or he wanted to show it to his mom. Who knew.

  In any case, Jackson was obviously a liar or, at the very least, prone to exaggeration. Look what he had written about me. Jerk!

  I believed Joshua’s story about his prison stint. I simply couldn’t see him as a murderer. But I wondered, did he have a motive to kill Nick? As far as I knew, he’d only just found out Nick was his dad, and he’d literally stepped off the plane a few days ago, after Nick’s murder. But then unless I’d been the one picking him up at the airport, I had no way to prove he hadn’t been here in L.A. all along. And what if his anger issues hadn’t been resolved? What if he’d suspected Nick was mistreating his mom and decided to take matters into his own hands?

  I rolled my eyes. Come on, Evie. That’s enough of that. Just because Jackson suspected everyone and their mother of killing Nick didn’t mean I had to. And the thought of anyone thinking Joshua could hurt a fly was just ludicrous. Friend or boss, or both, I liked Joshua. He was easy to talk to and easy on the eyes

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  THAT NIGHT AT THE BAR, I caught Joshua’s eye a few times. And it appeared Becky had noticed. It wasn’t as if we were openly flirting or anything, but during our afternoon together, we’d clearly begun a friendship, and it seemed Mama Bear was not too happy about it.

  Every time Becky trained her eyes on me, she gave me a piercing look bordering on a fierce scowl. Protective much, Becky? Her expression reminded me of a story I’d read as a child about a mother dragon who almost reduced a nearby village to ashes in an effort to protect her young offspring from the local (and somewhat overzealous) knight. That thought led to shape shifters which then led to me envisioning Becky suddenly morphing into a huge dragon here in the bar (and would her clothes, like those of the Incredible Hulk, simply shred to pieces or vanish?). I started giggling to myself.

  “What’s so funny?” Joshua, who had sidled up next to me, gently nudged my ribs.

  I startled and shot a guilty look at him. “Oh nothing. I was, uh, I was just thinking about something my mom told me about my dad.” This lying thing was coming a bit too easy for me. My father’s face popped into my head. He did not look happy.

  “Got it.” He was pouring a couple of drinks for last call. There weren’t many patrons left. Even Candace and Mumbles had stumbled out a couple of hours earlier. They’d been acting a little bit strange lately. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the changes to the bar or something else.

  Becky had, thankfully, left as soon as the kitchen stopped serving. But not before shooting me a parting death glare and claiming she had a migraine. I can’t say I was unhappy to see her go. It bothered me how her personality seemed to have turned on a dime. When she’d first come into the bar and Nick had made introductions, she’d acted like the two of us were buddy-buddy. But after Nick’s death, something had changed. And her attitude towards me took an even bigger nosedive once Joshua arrived on the scene. Maybe she was one of those extremely overprotective mothers and saw me as a potential threat to her relationship with her son. In any case, I felt sorry for the future Mrs. Joshua Styles, whoever she was. And as far as I was concerned, I was certainly no threat.

  Joshua handed me a round of drinks meant for a table of what looked like out-of-town, business types. I set their drinks down and, as I turned back to the bar, one of them patted me on the rear. I swung around to meet the flirtatious eyes of a handsome thirtysomething year old wearing a blue, button-down shirt, and a platinum wedding band on his ring finger.

  “Excuse me?!” I was so not impressed.

  He held up his open palms and smiled. “My friends and I were just commenting on what a pretty girl you are and how well you sing. You’re also a wonderful waitress. I bet there are other things you do well, too.” He looked around at his colleagues and the group laughed.

  It’s not often I lose my temper but when I do, watch out. I reached down, picked up his drink, and poured it down the front of his previously clean shirt. He stood quickly, knocking back his chair, eyes wide with surprise and anger.

  “What the fuck?!”

  I placed my drink tray on the floor next to me and rested my hands on either hip. “You’re right, mister. I do lots of other things real well, like get rid of jerks like you. Get out of here. You and your friends are no longer welcome.”

  He shook his head and smiled again. This time, it wasn’t very friendly. I glanced at the three other men with him and their expressions ranged from agitated to eager. Nasty Business Man took a step closer to me and threw a glance back at his colleagues.

  “Looks like we have a feisty one, boys.” He turned back to me, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I like them feisty,” he growled.

  He picked up his chair from the floor and spun it around, then reached out and pushed me down into it. I struggled to get back up as the other men laughed and Mr. Nasty held me down by placing his hands on either side of my shoulders.

  “Hey! What the hell?” Joshua yelled. “Get the hell away from her!” I could hear him come up behind me, and I noticed the other three men stand up. The man still holding me maintained his snarky grin. The blood began rushing through my ears and I could feel the pounding of my heart heavy against my chest— and that’s when I heard it.

  The soft but unmistakable click of a gun.

  Anyone who grew up in Texas hill country, like myself, knows exactly what that sound is. The three men facing Joshua went pale, one of them dropping back into his chair like a rock.

  “I said, get the hell away from her … now. Or your next trip home will be in a body bag.”

  The man facing me quickly yanked his hands off my shoulders and backed towards the table, away from Joshua and the gun.

  “Hey man, no harm. We were just having some fun.”

  Joshua’s calm, I-mean-business tone didn’t waver in the slightest. “You have ten seconds to get your drunk asses out of my bar before I pull the trigger. And I better not see any of you in this establishment again.”

  The men grabbed their coats and moved quickly out of the bar. Joshua rushed over to me as I slumped against the back of the chair. I refused to start crying, but that had scared me pretty bad. I kept thinking back to Lucas’s warning about the Black Tier wanting a piece of me. Could these guys be just another attempt to intimidate me, like Pierre and Anastasia? Thank goodness for Joshua and his gun.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  JOSHUA’S HANDS WERE FIRMLY planted on his hips and he looked at me the way one might at a recalcitrant child. “For the last time, Evie, you don’t need to stay. You’ve had a rough evening and I think you’re entitled to an early night. I’ll walk you to your car and close up.”

  “No, really, Joshua. I’m okay.” I’m not certain who I was trying to reassure more—him or me, as my hands were still shaking from the encounter. “Doing some work might help. And I don’t want to leave you here to do it all alone.”

  The truth was, a part of me didn’t want to leave him all alone. He had intervened in what otherwise might have become an ugly situation, and I felt I owed him something. Also, I kept wondering if those men or whatever they were would be back for Joshua, or for me. I didn’t know if I could prevent anything bad from happening, but if it did, Joshua wouldn’t be alone— like Nick had been.

  Like my sister had been.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “
Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He looked down at the carpeted floor for a moment. “I hope I didn’t scare you even more, you know with…” He held up the gun, the dull gleam of black metal catching my eye and making me feel uneasy in spite of myself.

  “Uh, no. But if you keep waving it around like that, I might change my mind.”

  He laughed suddenly. “Oh sure. Sorry!”

  Joshua walked back behind the bar and took out a box, where he then placed the gun and locked it. I wondered if the gun had been there when Nick was alive.

  After giving myself a few more minutes to regain my composure, I decided to go to the kitchen to make sure everything was squared away. More and more people were coming in to eat at Nick’s—wanting the famous fish tacos. While I didn’t have the recipe, it appeared Becky did. I guessed Nick must have shared it with her considering the nature of their relationship. But all those tacos made for a less-than-clean kitchen by the end of the day.

  “I think I’ll make sure the kitchen is clean and ready to go for tomorrow.” I started for the door, when Joshua reached out and touched my arm—again the flash of him in the back of the police car. I pulled my arm away.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” We shared an awkward few seconds between us as I’m sure my reaction caught him off guard. It wasn’t as if he’d grabbed me hard or anything. “I was just going to say, I’ll go with you. We can get it done together. The bar is clean now, so let’s get the kitchen sorted out and I’ll walk you to your car then.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and smiled weakly at him, trying to soften the negative response I’d had to his touch.

  We put away any food that’d been left out. Truth be told, Becky wasn’t exactly the most detail-oriented person when it came to cleaning. I swept and wiped down the counters. Joshua mopped. We didn’t say much while we worked, but his presence was comforting.

  Joshua picked up a large box and headed towards the walk- in storage closet.