He shrugged. “Working at the bar, I’ve listened and observed as people tell each other tall tales. I know what to watch for.”
She gave him a doubtful look, but it wasn’t worth arguing over. Besides, it was better than her plan which didn’t even exist. How did you get a person to admit they were guilty of something? Did she just show Neil the memory stick? She asked Armand as much.
“We could. Daniel sent me a copy of the real data and replaced what’s on this USB with bogus information. If Neil manages to steal it back from you, it can’t do any harm. And once he has it in his possession again, we’ll know he’s the guilty party.”
“You’re doing a lot of assuming.”
“Perhaps. But a theory remains true until it’s proven wrong.”
She frowned. “There’s a flaw in that logic.”
“No there isn’t. It's an argument that’s often used in science.”
“But what if I had a theory your underwear has cute kittens on it? Is it true, just because you haven’t dropped your pants to prove me wrong?”
The look he gave her had her bursting out laughing. They continued to banter, hands clasped until they reached the centre.
It was an older beige brick building that had once been a store with living quarters above. Since those early days, it had survived a wide variety of transformations before arriving at its current purpose. The front windows that used to display goods for sale now sported security bars and a hand painted sign hung over the door.
She led the way inside, glancing around the waiting room that had chairs lining the wall, and then beyond to where there was a pool table, a few computers and a small library. In the back, a kitchen area could be seen with snacks, a kettle and an array of mismatched mugs. A few partitions had been erected to help define the office spaces, but it was still mostly open concept. The upstairs was used primarily for storage and, quite frankly, gave her the creeps with its cobwebs and stuffy little rooms.
“Hey there, Lou. I’m surprised to see you here. It’s not your day to work.” The girl at the front desk, Margie, looked up with a cheerful smile.
“I’m just showing a friend around.” She introduced Armand. “Do you mind if I give him the grand tour?”
“Fine by me.” Margie nodded, eyeing Armand who was studying a hand-painted wall mural. “It’s not that grand. Neil’s hoping to get a grant soon, so we can fix things up a bit.”
“Is Neil here?” She took another look around the place. There were only a few clients in the building that she could see; two using the computers and one in the kitchen area.
“He’s trying to repair the back door. It’s sticking, and the fire inspector said it has to be fixed to meet code or they’ll shut us down.” Margie reached for the phone that was ringing. “Back to work!”
Lou gave her a wave and led Armand to the rear of the building.
“That’s an impressive mural.” He tilted his head towards the artwork.
“It’s pretty good, isn’t it? One of the guys who used to come here painted it about a year ago. Neil managed to get him a scholarship to study art.”
“Hmph.”
She held back a smile. Armand didn’t want a reason to like Neil. And, speaking of him, there he was tugging on a door that was determined not to move.
“Hi Neil. Having any luck?”
Neil looked up, his sweaty face brightening. “Oh, hi Lou. I stopped by the diner to check on you this morning, wondering if you were over that bug.” His gaze drifted to Armand and then back to her. “They said you weren’t there.”
She gave her explanation and made introductions. Neither man extended a hand in greeting, instead sizing each other up. It was comical but flattering. Trying to keep things congenial, she gave the door a bit of a push. “Still sticking, I see.”
“Yep. It opens so far and then it won’t budge. Fine for us because we know how to squeeze around it. The fire inspector, however, wasn’t impressed.”
Armand made a disparaging sound. “Of course he wasn’t. Having multiple means of escape is basic safety.” He examined the door. “These old floorboards have lifted and, with the humidity, the door’s expanded so it’s catching along the bottom.” Armand pressed down on the floor near the door and the wood, creaking under the pressure, shifted enough that the door opened wider.
“Well, now it’s open but that won’t help when we have to lock up at night.” Minimally grateful, Neil folded his arms.
“I have a relative, Matthias Bendov, who could fix this. He works in construction.” Armand experimentally moved the door again.
Neil shook his head. “No money in the budget for repairs.”
“I’m sure he’d do it for nothing.” Armand stepped back and hooked his thumbs in his belt loop. “It’s a simple fix if you have the proper tools. A drop-in centre is a good thing and he likes to support such causes. Plus, he has an affinity for old buildings.”
“He’d do it for nothing?” Neil’s expression brightened.
Lou silently laughed at the exchange. ‘Free’ was a word that was close to Neil’s heart. The centre was always short on money and… Her smile faded as a thought occurred to her. Neil was devoted to the centre; how far would he go to get the money he needed? She felt around in her pocket and withdrew the memory stick. “Neil, I found this the other day. It is yours?”
He glanced at the item in her hand but made no move to take it. “Nope. I don’t have one that looks like that. Ask Margie, it could be hers.”
“Oh. Okay.” Disappointed at his quick dismissal of the object, she tucked it back in her pocket. Not that she wanted him to be guilty, it was just that she’d been sure she’d found a perfect motive for him to be the one they were after. “Yeah, I’ll check with her on the way out.”
“Is your friend hanging around town for long?” Neil glanced at Armand and then must have realized it was an odd question for he tacked on an explanation. “Just wondering if you’ll be able to work tomorrow or not.”
“I…” She opened her mouth to answer but didn’t get the chance.
“If she needs to be here, I’ll bring her and then escort her home.” Armand announced as he shot a hard stare at Neil.
Escort her home? She pressed her lips tightly together. Armand seemed fixated on the idea that she was some delicate female despite his assertions that she was strong and courageous. Of course, given recent events, she wasn’t too eager to be traipsing around on her own. Having Armand as back up might be a good idea.
Armand glanced at his watch and she took that as a sign he was done assessing Neil’s guilt, or lack thereof.
She tugged at his arm. “We have to keep moving. There’s a lot more to show you around the city.”
Once outside, they walked a block beyond the centre and stopped in a shady spot beside a store.
“Well, what’s the verdict? Did Neil seem guilty to you?”
“He’s hiding something but I don’t think he owns the USB.”
“Hiding what?”
“An affection for you, perhaps?”
She rolled her eyes. “We are not even going to go there. What about Margie?” They’d stopped on the way out and shown her the memory stick.
“She seemed genuinely puzzled.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” Her cell phone buzzed and she pulled it from her purse, read the message, and then chuckled softly. It was from Neil, asking her to remind Armand about his cousin doing the repairs for free. Apparently, Neil’s devotion to the centre trumped his dislike of Armand!
Chapter 15
Armand called Matthias and made the necessary arrangements for the repair at the centre, then returned his attention to Lucy.
“I want to check the people you work with at the diner.”
“I already asked them and no one owned it. Remember?”
He leaned one shoulder against the building and folded his arms. “Perhaps they were deceiving you.”
Lucy opened her mouth to protest but he k
ept on speaking.
“If it belonged to you and it contained stolen information, would you openly admit it?”
“No.” She made a face. “I guess not.”
“Exactly.” He pushed off from the wall and placed his hand in the small of her back, intent on beginning the next leg of the investigation. “Let’s head to the diner.”
She didn’t respond to his urgings to move. “They’ll be suspicious if I show up this early for work.”
“Oh.” He dropped his hand from her back.
“But,” she smiled up at him, “there’s a park nearby and they’re having an art show. You like to paint so maybe we could check it out until it’s time for my shift.”
The idea suited him and they whiled away an hour examining various works of art from sculptures to pottery, jewelry and numerous styles of painting. Shows such as this never occurred in Stump River, he mused. Perhaps it was something he could look at arranging with the cooperation of the other merchants. Art, crafts, maybe even homemade goods; something akin to a country fair possibly tied in with a fishing derby. He could even display his own work, not that it would get much appreciation. Still, he tucked the idea into the back of his head for consideration at a later date.
When they’d visited all the booths, they found a bench under a tree. He leaned back and stared up at the arching branches overhead. The bark that clad the sturdy limbs was beautiful in its rough texture and varied hues of brown and grey while the abundant foliage created a protective canopy. Bits of blue sky could be seen between the gently swaying leaves which changed from shades of chartreuse to deep green and then back again, depending on how the sunlight gilded them. He narrowed his gaze, imagining it as a painting with bold shapes and splashes of colour.
His bear wasn’t interested in paintings, but it did appreciate the hint of nature. After several days in the city, it was growing restless.
“Getting your tree fix?” Lucy teased from her place beside him.
He nodded. “Being in such a setting renews my spirit.”
“I’d forgotten how relaxed you seemed when you came back from one of your walks in the forest.” Just as he had done, she tilted her head back and stared up at the tree, a contented sigh escaping her.
His gaze shifted from the leaves to her profile. A smile curved her lips and her eyes sparkled. It would seem the tree was having a beneficial affect on her as well.
“What are you staring at?” She angled her head towards him.
“Your eyes. They remind me of a beautiful clear, blue lake.”
Pink stained her cheeks and she looked away, pushing her glasses up on her nose.
The Lucy he had known in Stump River had always been brashly confident…at least on the outside. Had it all been an act? “You’ve been told that before, I’m sure.”
“Not in those exact words.”
“So, it’s my phrasing that bothers you?”
“Or the timing.” Her hand drifted up to the scar on her face, hesitated and then switched direction to tuck her hair behind her ear.
He watched the action. “You think I’m only complimenting you now out of pity? You didn’t believe the words I spoke to you last night?”
“Men say a lot of things during sex that mean nothing after the fact.” She shrugged.
“And perhaps you’re thinking I never complimented you before.”
“It might have crossed my mind.”
“I was your employer, you were young, and your affections were focused elsewhere.”
“I...”
“But now we aren’t employer-employee any longer.” He reached out and stroked a finger along her jaw, pausing deliberately near her injury before brushing his thumb over the edge of it and then casually moving to rest his arm on the back of the bench. He smiled at the hitch in her breathing.
“No. No, we’re not.”
“And now there’s no one else you are interested in.” He paused waiting for her to reply. When she didn’t, he prompted her gently. “Is there?”
“No.” She picked up a leaf that had fallen on the bench and idly twirled it in her hand. “I’ve rearranged my priorities. I’m not focusing my life on finding a man to love me.”
“But what if one finds you?”
She shifted her gaze from the leaf to him. “I… I’d proceed with caution.”
It wasn’t the answer he hoped for, however it wasn’t realistic to assume the trauma she’d been through hadn’t had an impact on her. He nodded slowly, respecting her honesty. “Fair enough.” Standing, he extended his hand to her. “I believe we have a mystery to solve.”
“Yes. We do.” She stood, tossing the leaf on the ground.
“This Jeff you work with, what do you know about him?”
“Umm…his real name is Jeffrey Tinley but he goes by Jeff the chef…”
They walked hand in hand through the park as she related what she knew about Jeff, even explaining about how his car had been stolen.
“Interesting. Perhaps the perpetrator thought you’d recognize Jeff’s car and blame him for trying to run me down?” He suggested.
“But I knew Jeff’s car was stolen so of course I wouldn’t suspect him.”
“Or did he just tell you it was stolen to throw suspicion away from himself?”
“That’s stretching things, isn’t it? I’m sure Jeff has nothing to do with the memory thingy. And even if he did, how would running you down help get it back?”
“Maybe he planned to snatch it from you while you were crying hysterically over my dead body?”
She hit him. “That’s not funny.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, I still have a hard time believing it could be Jeff. He rarely leaves the kitchen. And think about it; would a guy hide something in a tampon box? Wouldn’t it create a lot of suspicion if anyone saw him digging around in it when he tried to retrieve the memory stick later on?”
She had a point. “Then what about the women you work with?”
“There’s Gin and Kathy—Ginger Walsh and Kathy Crevan—we usually work together. Megan Ellis comes in to help over lunch sometimes if we’re really busy and then works the rest of the afternoon along with Jackie, Nicole, and Dylan, the other chef. He takes over for Jeff after lunch. On the weekends there are some high-school students who help out and...um…oh the evening cleaning crew.”
“We need to narrow this down.” He rubbed his chin. “Out of all the people who work at the diner, how many would know it was your box and come looking specifically for you? Was your name on it?”
“No. I just put it on the shelf and assumed no one would take them unless it was an emergency.”
“The women you work directly with would probably know they were yours, correct? They might have seen you placing the box in there.”
“That means it’s Kathy, Megan or Gin.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “I hate suspecting my friends.”
“Friends that might very well be responsible for running me down, breaking in and stealing tampons from Roxi, and mugging you.”
“True.” She sighed. “So how are we going to do this? I’ve already shown them the memory stick.”
“You’ll work just as you always do. I will order a meal and observe.”
“For what?”
“How they interact with you. If one of them was driving the car yesterday, they might wonder if you can identify them.”
“There’s only one problem. Jeff, Kathy and Gin will be leaving. Just Megan will be there.”
“Then I’ll still eat and wait until you finish your shift.”
“You’re going to sit and watch me work for four hours?”
“Watching you is never a hardship.”
She stared at him for a moment before giving a soft laugh and planted a hand on her hip. “You can sweet talk me all you want, Armand St. John, I’m still not going to slip you an extra piece of dessert.”
He narrowed his eyes. She was treating him as she would any of the customers
who had sauntered into the Broken Antler or Ruth’s diner, trying to keep things light by assuming the buxom barmaid role she’d played so often. He saw through it though. Saw the uncertainty, the fact that she wasn’t sure she could trust his words. It was his own fault for pushing her away so often. However, she was a prize he was willing to work for.
Leaning close, he whispered in her ear. “I don’t need dessert from a diner when I have you to nibble on.” He then proceeded to outline several areas of her he’d be sampling as soon as the opportunity arose. A blush stained her cheeks by the time they arrived at the diner and he nodded, pleased with the result.
As he made his way to a seat in the corner, he overheard one of the staff greeting her.
“Hi Lou. Did you get a sunburn?”
“No.” She fanned her face. “Just hot from the…um…walk.” She cast him a dirty look before disappearing to the back of the diner.
He ate his meal slowly, trying to ignore the noise from the bowling alley next door. They needed to install sound absorbing panels; how anyone could stand that cacophony day after day was incomprehensible. At least the allergens in the air were better today—he hadn’t sneezed yet—but now he was noticing a parade of ants scurrying along the baseboards which had him shaking his head. Lucy deserved a safe, clean working environment.
With concerted effort, he focused on observing the comings and goings of the customers and the work patterns of the waitstaff. There might very well be clues here Lucy was unaware of. For example, shifters had been in the building at some point during the day. It was curious that he’d not noticed the scent before. Of course, the shifters could just be random customers. Or, they could have been at the diner searching for Lucy and the USB.
His bear looked about suspiciously, nose twitching. Whoever it had been, they were no longer in the building. He would have loved to try to follow the scent trail, but he didn’t dare leave Lucy alone. After several attempts by the perpetrator to regain possession of the USB drive, he feared for her safety. There was one thing he could do, though.
He signalled for Lucy and she made her way to his table.
Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My! Page 88