Jennifer leaped up, shooed the dog away, and hung the coat on the back of the chair.
She settled back down next to Sam and snuggled under his arm. Then she reached over for the phone, punched in the numbers with her thumb, and placed an order for the noodles and Sam’s favorite, garlic chicken, adding a pint of coconut ice cream.
“So what did you turn up at the restaurant?” he asked as she settled back and he stroked her hair.
Silver-tongued devil. No wonder she couldn’t resist him. At least she knew how to be romantic—thanks to Leigh Ann’s torrid prose.
She started at his chin and outlined his jaw with little kisses between each word. “My replacement—Roy—is making really big bucks.” When she got to his ear, he squirmed.
“How big?”
She considered seeing how ticklish he really was but decided instead to rest her head in the crook of his neck.
“Megabucks. Two hundred grand.”
She could feel his body tense. He must be stunned. But then big money was always hard for a writer to comprehend.
“And he wasn’t the only one.” She nuzzled his neck and felt him relax. “Edgar had hired a special consultant who was making a hundred.”
“Natalie Brewster. She just might be worth it.”
Now that was a mood-breaking comment if she’d ever heard one. Jennifer sat up. “You know her?”
“Sure. She was my liaison concerning the franchise. Very friendly, beautiful woman. About your height, long dark hair, emerald eyes, ivory complexion, terrific figure.”
Nice of him to notice. Lisa must have really been fond of her. Jennifer had never met her, and she hated the woman already.
“I don’t suppose you could tell from your conversations with her”—assuming there had been dialogue—“whether she was any good at her job.”
“She was great. MBA from Emory.”
The two hundred grand was beginning to look a little more reasonable. She’d noticed a college transcript in her file but hadn’t had time to look at it.
“She told me Edgar hired her specifically to develop the concept for the franchise. She plans to alter the color scheme.”
Thank goodness for that. Maybe the woman had some taste.
“And play up the family angle,” Sam added.
“I didn’t see her at the restaurant.”
“Could be she doesn’t work out of there. I interviewed her at her apartment.”
Unprofessional. Not to mention cozy.
“So you think she truly is a consultant, even though she’s salaried?”
“Well, yeah. I can’t imagine her working in the middle of the mayhem of some restaurant, especially that one.”
One that came with a Lisa.
“Seems strange no one’s mentioned her.”
“True, but why would they? I’ll give her a call.”
Jennifer handed him the phone. No reason for him to go all the way home when he could as easily call from her apartment.
Sam went to his jacket pocket and took a business car from a card holder. He punched in the numbers, waited several seconds, and then hung up.
“No answer,” Jennifer observed.
“And no voice mail.”
“And you don’t like it,” she added.
He shook his head.
“She’s probably just out.”
This time he nodded.
“But you’re still concerned.”
Again he nodded.
“Okay. First thing tomorrow morning, you and me in Atlanta, knocking on her door.”
“You sure you want to go with me? Don’t you have writing to do?”
“Don’t you have newspaper work to do?”
“Tomorrow is Saturday. Besides, this is newspaper work.”
“I’ll be ready by seven.”
Sam might need her help. This was, after all, a murder investigation. She wasn’t about to let him go in there alone. Who knew what Sam might run into at Natalie Brewster’s apartment?
Chapter 15
Natalie Brewster was doing quite well for someone only a few years out of grad school. Her apartment, in a gated luxury community only a few blocks from the Grill, made Jennifer’s modest digs in Macon look downright squalid, at least from the outside. Not that she’d compare herself to a woman whose name Sam couldn’t mention without breathing hard.
Sam leaned on the doorbell one more time, the bright morning sunshine glinting off the brass trim. He was looking a bit distressed, a cute furrow ruffling his brow, his eyes a lighter blue than normal.
“Do you think something’s wrong?” Jennifer asked.
“Not necessarily.” He seemed to be reassuring himself as much as her. “I just don’t like it when one person dies and then I have trouble finding another.”
Okay. She could buy that one. “Maybe we should check with the guard. He should have seen her leave if she went out this morning.”
“Yeah. But in that case, he should have stopped us on the way in.” They had scooted right past him. Sam and his car were on the visitors’ list.
Sam tried the knob but it was locked. He nodded and they headed back to the security station.
“Miz Brewster,” the guard repeated, taking off his cap and running his hand over his bald head. “No, sir, I haven’t seen her.”
And he would have remembered, too. Jennifer could tell. Interesting effect this woman had on men. “How about yesterday?” She leaned across Sam so she could see the guard better through the driver’s window
The man shook his head. “I don’t recollect seeing her for some time, now that you mention it. I come on at seven and go off at three. Could be I’ve just been missing her. ’Course she could be out on one of those business trips she takes now and again, but she usually tells me when she’s going off.”
“Would you know where to?” Sam asked.
The man rubbed his chin. He seemed to be sizing the two of them up. “Remember I didn’t say for sure she was gone. What kind of business you got with her?”
They weren’t going to get any more out of this guy, especially if he found out he was talking to a reporter. Jennifer flashed him a smile. “Thanks for your help.”
She waved as Sam pulled away and headed down the street.
“Tell me about this woman,” she ordered.
“I did. She’s gor—”
“Not her physical attributes.” She’d already had enough of that. Besides, if she’d asked about one of his male friends, would he lead off with how the man looked? She thought not.
“Bright, personable, confident, competent.”
Okay, the woman was perfect. They could worship at her shrine later, but she wasn’t going to buy the competent part so easily. Competency could be faked. What did Sam know about the franchise business? “So how’d Edgar find her?”
“I don’t know. It didn’t come up.”
“Okay. Then who was involved with the franchise plans?”
“Natalie has been working on it over the last six months, handling most of it herself—developing a training program, calculating the investment necessary, finding the franchisees—”
“Is that a word? Franchisee?”
“Yeah. Look it up. From what he said, Edgar had pretty much put the development of the plan in her hands.”
Her competent and lovely hands.
“They were looking for area developers.”
“Come again?”
“People who want more than one restaurant. They put up the money, hire managers, and coordinate matters so their own restaurants are never in competition with one another.”
Jennifer whistled. “Big bucks.”
“Excuse me?”
“Big bucks—that’s what it takes to open several restaurants at one time.”
“You ain’t kidding.”
“And a lot of expertise.”
“Nope. As a matter of fact, they look for people who don’t have any restaurant experience. That way—”
“T
hey can train them the way they want the operation to run.”
“Right.”
“Which requires something else.”
He cocked his head.
“A lot of trust.”
Sam nodded. “Not to mention work. Natalie kept insisting she didn’t have time to talk with me even though Edgar had personally arranged the interview after Emma called him. I got her to outline the process, but that was about it. She gave me the brush-off.”
Sam could be a bit overbearing at times, especially when he was pushing for information. But usually he didn’t brush off easily.
“They’re gonna want their money,” she said.
“Who?”
“The franchisees.”
Sam shook his head as he stopped at the light. “I’m not even sure money has passed hands yet. But even if it has, the business is continuing to thrive. Why wouldn’t it go forward?”
Jennifer shrugged. “Who knows what Edgar’s will specifies.”
“I’ll continue to try to locate Natalie and also see what I can find out about the investors.”
“And check into her background,” Jennifer suggested.
“Why?”
“Sounds like Edgar entrusted his entire future to this woman. I’d like to know more about her.” She wasn’t about to add that she didn’t trust her simply on principle. After all, she had green eyes just like Leigh Ann.
“Okay. And what’s your plan?”
“I’ve got an inside source I plan to cultivate. Someone who should be able to tell me a lot about what’s been going on at the Down Home Grill.”
Chapter 16
“Nice of you to take me out for breakfast like this, Ms. Marsh,” Suzy commented, “and to my favorite restaurant, too, not counting the Grill, of course. I even thought about calling you, you having connections with Mrs. Emma Walker and her being the actual owner and all. Lisa doesn’t much care for me…”
Suzy was cute, bubbly, friendly, pleasantly thin, not to mention really young. Obviously Lisa had issues.
“…and I’d really like to keep my job. Roy and me…” She blushed charmingly. “I know he’s a little old for me, but…” She sighed and stared into space as if looking at twinkling stars.
Jennifer couldn’t help but follow her gaze. The Waffle House didn’t hold much for the romantic, only an oozing of batter from a couple of overfilled waffle presses, two very harried waitresses, and a cook juggling eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast.
“He’s really good-looking. Don’t you think?” Suzy asked.
Jennifer cleared her throat and allowed a noncommittal tilt of her head. It was hard to get excited over someone who’d almost crowned her with a skillet.
“And he’s so talented. I’ve worked in other restaurants, and let me tell you, he’s no slouch. The only thing he needs to make him perfect is one of those cute little sports cars.” Suzy took a sip of her milk.
“I figure we’ll have three children. One boy and two girls. He’ll be a great daddy, and he’s got good genes, too. He doesn’t have any of those awful hereditary diseases in his family like diabetes or tuberculosis.”
This was probably not the time to point out to Suzy that tuberculosis was not a hereditary disease.
“I’ve got arthritis on both sides,” she rattled on. “A poor kid wouldn’t have a chance if he got another dose from his father, you know what I mean? If you’re gonna get serious about someone, you’ve got to know these things.”
While Jennifer could understand Suzy’s concerns for genetic perfection, she wasn’t paying for breakfast to hear about Roy’s chromosomes.
“So how did Lisa and Edgar get along?” Jennifer asked, as if that was what they’d been talking about all along.
“Not well. At least not anymore. They got into some rows. Word was there was someone else.”
“Lisa was going out on Edgar?”
The girl vigorously shook her head. “Heck no. Mister Walker. He wanted a divorce, at least that’s what Louise told me. She said she overheard them fighting like two mad dogs back in the office one afternoon.”
So Edgar was moving on to number three. Well, the blush was definitely off of Lisa’s peach. And once she’d turned testy, it was hard to say what she had in her favor.
“Who?” she asked, wondering if the dark hair and green eyes of Natalie Brewster had something to do with Edgar’s change of heart. Edgar’s craggy face had to get better looking with each potential franchise.
“Oh, Ms. Marsh. I don’t like to gossip.”
A waitress leaned across the booth and set down two plates, each dwarfed by an enormous pecan waffle. “Anything else?” she asked, refilling Jennifer’s coffee cup.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Jennifer said.
“What about the waitresses?” she asked casually as their own waitress moved away. “Did Edgar show an interest in any of them?”
Suzy added so much syrup, the waffle swam in the sticky goo. “Are you kidding? Even if he had made a pass at one of them, nothing would have happened. They’re all scared to death of Lisa.”
She could understand that. “How about Natalie Brewster?”
“Oh, you mean that woman Mr. Walker brought in to talk about the franchise.” Suzy speared a piece of waffle and let the syrup ooze off onto her paper place mat as she talked. “Could’ve been, I guess, though why a woman like that would be interested in a man like him…”
She’d already heard about Natalie’s attributes from Sam. She didn’t need Suzy confirming her goddess status.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, Ms. Marsh. Mr. Walker was my employer.”
“And how did Lisa feel about Natalie?” Jennifer asked.
“She kept her distance. Natalie would show up in her designer suits, looking like she’d stepped off the cover of Glamour magazine. So maybe there was somethin’ there.” Suzy shrugged. “Never no accountin’ for taste.”
True words.
“So how are things going at the restaurant? Are you still shorthanded?” If she couldn’t get a more thorough report from Teri and Leigh Ann, maybe Suzy could tell her what they were up to.
Suzy took another bite of waffle and said, “Lisa hired three new girls.”
At last. Except for that one hurried phone call from Teri, the two of them had been infuriatingly taciturn about what was going on at the restaurant. Neither had the decency to pick up a phone and fill her in. When Jennifer finally had gotten hold of Leigh Ann, she’d practically dozed off in the middle of the conversation, waking up with a halfhearted promise to call when she learned something. Working two jobs must be cutting into her nap time. And she wouldn’t even see them tonight. Monique had unexpected company, so the meeting had been canceled.
“Having more staff should help,” she said.
Suzy nodded. “One of them’s real good. She’s obviously waitressed before. But I don’t know about the other two. There’s something peculiar about them.
Jennifer almost choked on her food.
“You all right?” Suzy asked.
She swallowed what was in her mouth. “The other two girls—what’s wrong with them?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know, but I do know I don’t like the little one, Leigh Ellen, Leigh something.”
Jennifer had to bite her tongue to keep from saying Leigh Ann.
Suzy frowned. “I think she’s taken a liking to Roy. I caught her with him backed up next to the freezer standing on her tippy toes and leaning into his chest.”
Jennifer dropped her head. That girl needed more than a keeper. She needed a warden.
Suzy opened her big eyes wide. “’Course, Roy insisted it was nothin’, but I’m not sure I believe him.”
Roy was not the one to worry about here.
“I’ve caught her talkin’ to him—alone—a few other times, batting those green eyes up at him.” Suzy sighed. “He’s just a man. It’s not like he can take a lot of that.”
Suzy had been reading too many romance novels, the ki
nd that Leigh Ann wrote.
“You know what really made me suspicious?”
Jennifer could hardly wait to hear.
“Roy took Leigh off the main floor, put her in the kitchen as Gus’s assistant.”
“Cooking?”
Suzy nodded.
“With fire?”
Again she nodded.
“And knives?”
“What’s wrong, Ms. Marsh? You’re looking kind of gray.”
“And what about the other one?”
“You mean the African American?”
“I guess so.”
“She gives me the creeps. It’s like she’s always sneaking around, writing on her order forms even when she’s not with a customer. And on napkins. Stuffing them into her pockets. I’m really beginning to wonder about her.”
And with good reason. Jennifer had been wondering about Teri for a long time. “So what do you think she’s up to?” she asked, casually taking a sip of coffee.
“I think she may be a spy.”
Jennifer forced the liquid down her throat. “Really. How so?”
“Industrial espionage.”
“Of what?”
“The sauce, of course. People would kill for that recipe.”
The situation at the Grill was definitely getting out of hand. Jennifer had no choice. She’d have to find a way to go back to the restaurant and see what was going on, but she couldn’t do it right away. She had a dragon lady breathing down her neck.
Assistant District Attorney Arlene Jacobs had caught her just as she was leaving the house that morning to come to breakfast with Suzy. She wanted Jennifer in her office no later than tomorrow afternoon, and if she couldn’t manage it on her own, Jacobs assured her, she’d be glad to send a police escort to see that she got there.
But before she saw Jacobs, Jennifer wanted some answers from the only person who could give them. She had to know what Mrs. Walker had been doing married to a classless crumb like Edgar Walker.
Chapter 17
“Edgar was quite handsome back then,” Mrs. Walker confided. “More tea?” She gripped the handle of the elegant sterling silver teapot glinting from the late morning sunshine pouring through the glass wall of her living room.
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