Jacobs was right. This real-life crime stuff was actually pretty simple if not downright obvious. Everything was falling neatly into place. Lisa had to have killed Edgar. She was home that night, and she had control of the entire security system. She kept the dogs up. No reason to let their barking interfere with her murdering Edgar. And she’d turned off the system to dump the body in the water after she’d killed him.
Mrs. Walker’s presence must have been fortuitous. So Lisa, taking advantage of the situation, had knocked her out, left her at the side of the pool with the murder weapon where she would pick it up when she woke, gone back into the house and turned the pool system back on, and waited. Yes, it all seemed to fit quite nicely. Except for why the rest of the system had been turned off when Mrs. Walker entered the estate earlier, and why she’d been able to gain access several times before without getting caught.
Well, no matter. What didn’t fit would be explained in due time. And as for motive, Jennifer now knew that Edgar wanted a divorce, and Lisa was determined he was not going to get one.
“You’d better take a closer look at Lisa Walker,” Jennifer blurted. “With Edgar dead, she has a lot to gain, and she was there that night.”
Jacobs looked at Jennifer as if she were drowning in her own confusion. “You can go, Ms. Marsh. I’ll see you in court.”
Jennifer gathered her purse and headed for the door, throwing one last look in the assistant D.A.’s direction. She could understand Jacobs’s wanting to believe Emma as the killer. It made her job a lot easier, and if she herself had been prosecuting this case, she’d probably want to believe it, too.
Jennifer knew she could forget what little hope she’d had that the police would investigate further. The noose was tightening around Emma’s neck, and if someone wasn’t able to get inside information from the Down Home Grill soon, all hope for Emma was going to disappear.
Chapter 19
Maxie Malone was stymied. The fiasco at Rufus’s Chocolate Heaven had left her with few options. With the ban in force keeping her from the premises, she had no choice but to pursue other leads. Still, she was sure the key to Rufus Donaldson’s death lay at his place of business.
Restlessly, Maxie paced the floor of her apartment. She hadn’t heard from the two undercover operatives she’d sent in as hand-dipping chocolate experts. She’d had to go with who was available, and now she was ruing her decision to send in anyone at all. They were a liability—both of them—the petite femme fatale Leandra and the courageous and exotic Teresa. While semicompetent in their own rights, they had no experience with chocolate outside of eating it. They knew even less of subtlety, being more suited to stakeouts and in-your-face confrontations. Yes, their silence was not a good sign, and it was making Maxie more nervous as each hour passed. She would never forgive herself if they wound up as the key ingredients in Rufus’s homemade fudge.
Muffy whimpered loudly, lunged, and dropped her food dish in Jennifer’s lap.
She picked up the bowl and turned her attention toward the mutt. “I don’t suppose you could wait just five minutes more while I finish this scene?”
Muffy let out a pitiful howl that needed a full moon for proper effect and then collapsed in a defeated heap on the floor.
“All right! Stop your playacting. I know you’re overdue for lunch, but I was on a roll. Most dogs don’t even get lunch. Your vet would have a fit if she knew I fed you in the middle of the day. She doesn’t realize you’re really a person. A spoiled person, at that.”
She went to the kitchen, scooped up a third of a cup of dry food, and placed it in Muffy’s bowl along with a treat. It wasn’t enough to make any difference in her diet, but Muffy seemed to believe it was the only thing that kept her from starvation.
Jennifer plopped the bowl down on the floor, Muffy nosing past her and swallowing every morsel in one quick slurp. Jennifer went back to her computer.
Yes, Maxie was becoming concerned. If she didn’t hear from her people soon, she’d have no choice but to go in after them.
Jennifer sighed and pushed back from the keyboard. Maxie was worried, but at least Leandra and Teresa both knew martial arts and carried weapons—Teresa a boot knife (she was an expert knife thrower) and Leandra a bolo, being part Australian aborigine. Teri and Leigh Ann, however, were defenseless and not the best improvisers she’d ever met. Most of a week had passed since she’d last talked to them, and their silence was nagging at her. Maybe April had heard something.
She dialed the phone. “April, hi, it’s Jen.” She hoped none of the tension she was feeling was evident in her voice. She could hear a baby crying in the background.
“What happened?” April sounded more than a little concerned.
“Nothing. I thought maybe you’d heard from Teri or Leigh Ann.”
“Oh, my God. They’re dead, aren’t they?”
April hadn’t seemed at all concerned the night they decided to go undercover as waitresses. Jennifer had expected a little reassurance, not a National Emergency Alert.
“No, they not dead. I’ve just been having a little trouble getting hold of them is all.”
“I knew it! They’re dead.”
A cold sweat broke out on Jennifer’s forehead. “They are not dead,” she insisted, really sorry that she had made the mistake of dragging April into this. “I’ll take care of it. Forget I called. ‘Bye.”
She could hear April gasp even as she dropped the receiver into its cradle. She didn’t have much time. She had some shopping to do before she took off for the Down Home Grill.
The floppy denim hat sporting a huge sunflower was pulled snugly over Jennifer’s ears and all the way down to her eyebrows. Not a strand of hair was showing, and the blue-tinted lenses of her glasses perfectly hid the color of her eyes. Her face was powdered an adobe brown, her lips brushed with a silvery pink, and a large black beauty mark dotted her left cheek. Her long, shapeless sundress hid the chunky three-inch heels of her boots. If anyone recognized her in that getup, they’d have to be more clever than any sleuth she could dream up.
It was close to six-thirty, but she’d made it to the Down Home Grill as quickly as she could. No matter. Both Teri and Leigh Ann worked the supper shift, even on weekends. If they were still working, she’d know soon enough.
“Malone, party of one,” Suzy sang out. “Malone,” she repeated, walking straight over to Jennifer, who was leaning against the far wall, staring out the window. “Miss, we have your table ready.”
Jennifer nodded, thankful that the red in her makeup was darker than the flush she felt in her cheeks. A good detective would remember her cover name. At least Suzy hadn’t recognized her.
“Follow me, please.” Suzy led the way, past Teri, who was balancing three platters near the fish tanks, to a small table tucked in the back. Thank goodness she was all right.
“Booth,” Jennifer squeaked out in a hoarse whisper.
“Oh, you’d rather have a booth?”
She nodded.
“We usually put our single patrons at the small tables, but we do make exceptions. I know how you feel. I hate those straight-backed chairs, too.”
Suzy took her toward the front, where the booths were backed by the large saltwater tank. She waited as Jennifer slid across the slick vinyl and then offered a menu. “Enjoy your meal.”
Jennifer ran her gaze over the entrees. Definitely a meat lover’s delight. She’d hoped to get away with a bowl of soup, but it looked as if all they had that night was chile and vegetable beef.
“Okay, let’s have it. What can I get you?” Teri had snuck up on her, the brim of Jennifer’s hat effectively cutting out all of her peripheral vision.
“What’s your vegetable of the day?” she asked in the same hoarse voice she’d used on Suzy.
“Green beans cooked with fatback.”
Were there no vegetables in this place that hadn’t come in contact with some part of an animal?
“Just bring me a baked potato and a tossed salad
with honey-mustard dressing.”
“Butter and sour cream?”
“No. I want some of that steak sauce to go on it. And a large glass of sweetened tea.”
“What kind of steak do you want with that?” Teri asked, impatiently tapping her pen against the order pad.
“No steak, thank you.”
“Listen, lady. This is a steak house—”
“Are you this rude to all of your customers, Teri?”
Teri’s tapping pen stopped, and she bent down to stare under the brim of Jennifer’s hat. “What the heck are you doing here?”
Jennifer pulled the glasses down to rest on the end of her nose. “Checking on you.”
“A bit neurotic, are we? You could have waited until our critique meeting. Leigh Ann and I have every Monday off. Can’t miss group.” She bent down closer. “You look really, really weird, like you’ve been shopping in the ethnic section of the cosmetics department. You suffering from pigment envy? You look better as a white girl.”
“Nice of you to notice.” She scowled and shoved the glasses back into place. “Also nice of you to call me and fill me in once in awhile.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been busy. I got a sample of steak sauce for one of my friends—a grad student at Mercer—to analyze.”
“And what’d he find?”
“Nothing. One of his roommates ate it. But I go another sample.” She reached in her pocket and let the lid of a small container peek over the edge.
“We don’t need to know what’s in it,” Jennifer told her.
“That’s what you think! They act like they’ve got gold in there, like Fort Knox. Leigh Ann may have found out something about it. She’s in the kitchen. They banned her from the floor after the incident with the football players from the University of Georgia. Hot! I mean, those guys could have put out their own calendar.”
Hard bodies plus Leigh Ann—not a promising mix. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Heck, no. I got my girl outta there. Only minor scrapes and bruises. I think Roy may be a little sweet on her, ’cause he didn’t fire her. If Lisa had been here she’d have had her—”
“Is Lisa here tonight?”
Teri nodded. “In the back somewhere. And if she comes out and sees me talking to you for more than three seconds, she’ll have my—”
“All right, already. Just bring me my potato and salad, and don’t forget the tea.”
Teri stuffed the order pad into her pocket and took off to put in the order.
The rest rooms were not all that far from the kitchen. Jennifer got up and wandered in that direction. She could see Leigh Ann through the opening at the warming bar. She was wearing a large white chef’s jacket that had been rolled several times at the sleeves so her hands could peek out, and an enormous chef’s hat that came down over her ears and sat precariously on her forehead. She was turning steaks while Gus supervised at her elbow. He leaned forward, said something in her ear, and then it looked as if he was actually nibbling on the lobe. Leigh Ann turned and snapped at him, and her hat slid all the way down her nose, covering both eyes. Gus reached over, pulled the white poof back up, and continued to chat at her in what sounded like Spanish.
Movement caught Jennifer’s eye. Through the glass panel of the door in the back of the kitchen that led to the hallway of Edgar’s office, she could see Lisa, gesturing wildly. Then she seemed to burst into tears, swiping at her cheeks with the heels of her hands. Whoever she’d been talking with moved in. He was tall, narrow-shouldered, blond with monochromatic coloring, his skin as pale as his hair, and he was folding her to him. Her arm came up and hugged his back. They broke and Jennifer could see them in profile. Benny. Lisa was in the back arguing and making up with Benny. What the heck was that all about?
They turned toward the swinging door, and Jennifer ducked back into the dining area, around the fish tank, and into the safety of her booth. The last thing she needed was for Lisa to catch her spying in the restaurant. She slid onto the seat just as the two emerged from the kitchen. Jennifer sat on her knees and peeked through the water to watch them walk to the front door, perfectly businesslike, no hint of the little scene that had played itself out in the back.
“Find anything interesting? There’s a baby shark in there. Did you see it?”
Jennifer turned to find Teri sliding her potato and salad across the polyurethane tabletop.
“I hope you plan to leave a tip as if you’d ordered a regular dinner. It’s just as much work, you know.”
Jennifer plopped herself back down and unwrapped her fork from the paper napkin. “What’s with Lisa and Benny?”
“Benny?”
“The blond man with Lisa.”
“Oh, him. I don’t know. He’s in almost every night. They tell me he’s the new manager, but I can’t see that he does all that much.”
“He and Lisa got something going on?”
“Heck if I know.” Teri gave a little shudder. “He gives me the creeps. He’s like an albino.”
She shook her head. “Blue eyes, not pink. He’s just very fair.”
“Like I’d know about that.”
“Has his sister been in?”
“Carbon copy except for gender, only with some kind of Sixties flower child fixation?”
Jennifer nodded.
“Once. I don’t think she and Lisa get along. She spoke maybe two words to her and then took off. She gives me the creeps, too. She looks like a ghost.” Teri’s eyes kept darting about as if she was afraid Lisa was going to see her spending too much time at Jennifer’s table and get suspicious.
“Oh my God—” Teri began.
“What is it?” Jennifer asked, tugging at Teri’s sleeve.
But Teri could only stand there, one hand over her open mouth. And then Jennifer saw it, too. Lisa was leading a very regal Monique dressed in a suit and heels, nose well into the air, and an equally decked-out April, to a table in the middle of the restaurant.
Jennifer caught a scrap of the conversation as they passed. “…and when do you expect the review to come out, Ms. Dupree?”
Jennifer hung her head. It was bad enough that Leigh Ann was flipping steaks in the kitchen, Teri was slinging food in the dining room, and she was posing as a customer in makeup that made her look ethnically confused. Now Monique and April were passing themselves off as restaurant critics. She should never have made that call to April.
Monique accepted the menu from Lisa. “You can start us off with an Eddie.” Her voice boomed with authority.
“I’ll get that for you immediately—and see that your waitress takes good care of you.”
Teri stood frozen, but, unfortunately, not invisible. Lisa grabbed her arm and swung her around. “See those two women over there?”
Teri nodded numbly.
“Give them anything they want, and fast. They’re reviewing the Grill for the Atlanta Daily. I’ll alert Gus. You got that?”
Jennifer bowed her head and prayed.
“Now!” Lisa barked.
Teri jumped a little. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lisa disappeared without another word.
“Gotta go,” Teri said to Jennifer. “I have more important customers to wait on.”
Jennifer pulled the brim of her hat closer around her face and attacked her baked potato. With any luck, no one else would recognize her.
Now that she’d confirmed that Teri and Leigh Ann with both in good health, if not of sound mind, she was more than ready to get out of the restaurant.
She stole a glance in the direction of Monique’s table. Teri was standing there, pointing with her pen, the two women staring straight at her. April smiled and waved, and Jennifer slid as far under the table as she could without actually ducking under it.
Teri scribbled something on her order pad and then walked back to Jennifer’s booth.”Why did you tell April that Leigh Ann and I were dead?”
“I did not!”
Teri rolled her eyes and went off toward the kitchen.<
br />
She could see April squinting in her direction. No potato, not even one smothered in Edgar’s steak sauce, was worth Lisa’s wrath. She had to get out of there fast.
She rummaged in her purse and found a ten dollar bill. That should cover the cost of the food and Teri’s tip. She slid it under her plate and took off toward the front door.
As she pushed through the crowd waiting to be seated, she could see the freedom of the parking lot. But just as her arm touched the push bar on the door, someone’s hand closed on her shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lisa Walker demanded.
Chapter 20
Jennifer froze. She should have broken free, but somebody had filled her legs with sand. As if on auto pilot, she turned. Even towering over Lisa in her three-inch heels, she could feel the woman’s power.
"I thought that was you," Lisa said. "We have some talking to do."
The woman grasped Jennifer’s upper arm and led her to the back and through the kitchen. She thought about calling out for help, but Leigh Ann was too engrossed in her duties at the grill to even notice, not that she’d be much help, all ninety pounds of her. And Gus was still rattling off something in Spanish.
Lisa pushed her through the swinging door into the hall and then on into the office. She let go of her arm and shoved Jennifer into one of the chairs while she took a perch on the side of the desk. She stared straight at Jennifer. Her frown deepened. "What’s wrong with your face? Did you get a bad sunburn?"
Jennifer shook her head and stared straight back, right through the blue of her glasses. She wasn’t about to let Lisa throw her off with criticism. She knew all about those tactics. She’d had parents.
Just let her make a move. She was ready for anything Lisa had to dish out—even if Lisa did have a good thirty pounds on her, all of it muscle.
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