Diamond Legacy (24 page)

All of it was enough to drive him to drink. Matt pushed open the doors of Half Jacks and stepped inside the darkened bar.

It was a busy Friday night, and the place was filled to near capacity. Amid the dim lights and careless chatter, Matt twisted his way to the bar and ordered a beer.

A bartender sporting more buttons and pins on his vest than a veteran soldier slid over a bottle of Bushwakker Pale Ale. “That’d be eight
pula, brah
.”

Matt tossed the money on the wooden bar before taking a healthy swig to wash away the day’s dust. He heaved a sigh of satisfaction and turned around to lean against the chipped and worn rail, his gaze traveling the room with practiced nonchalance.

On the surface, all appeared normal. African Zulu music was piped in from speakers mounted high in the corners, white-collar businessmen in rolled-up sleeves drank beer and laughed with colleagues, Miranda played a game of pool at the tables, and a crowd of young—

His gaze shot back to the pool tables.
What the hell
?

Unbelievable! What did she think she was doing? As she sank a ball with her pool cue, smiling in delight at some tall nerdy-looking punk, jealousy burned the edges of Matt’s vision. She rounded the table for a different angle and bent over to line up another shot. When the punk took a step back to ogle Miranda’s ass, Matt clenched his fist with an urge to punch the creep’s face in.

He’d traveled halfway across the bar before training kicked him upside the head. He slowed his pace and made himself take in the scene with deeper detail.

Miranda wasn’t alone. Jason and Letta sat at a nearby table. At least she had sense enough to bring reinforcements. Jason twirled a pool cue in his hands as he and Letta chatted, and when Matt approached, Jason glanced up in surprise. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yeah, funny isn’t it?” Matt stared straight at Miranda when he said it.

She looked up from the pool table and a split-second wariness crossed her face, quickly masked. Likely no one but himself had recognized it.

“Why, Matt. How nice to see you here.” A bright smile accompanied her words. She turned and laid a hand on the punk’s arm, pulling him around the pool table. “It must be Katanga night at Half Jacks. Meet Neil Vernel. Turns out Neil occasionally volunteers at the center. How crazy is it that we meet here instead?”

She gave him a pointed look and, despite Matt’s anger, he picked up the signal. She was fishing and had Neil on the hook. Which only made him madder. He specifically told her to stay out of the investigation. And yet here she was, placing herself in possible danger. As soon as he got her alone, he was going to kill her.

“An astonishing coincidence.” Matt reached over and shook the punk’s hand, squeezing just a little too hard. “Appears you’re having a bit of fun with the lady.”

Neil’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced from Matt to Miranda.

“No problem,
brah
,” Neil said to Matt, “didn’t realize the territory had a claim.”

“Let’s just call it protected.”

“Right. No harm done then.”

“Excuse me, gentleman.” Miranda was frowning. “I’m not certain what just happened here”—she waggled a finger between him and Neil—“but we are in the middle of a game. And I’m winning.”

“By all means.” Matt waved a hand for them to continue and pulled out a chair to join Jason and Letta.

“Nice move, man.” Jason smirked with a knowing grin. “I’m certain it went over well with the doc.”

Matt quirked an irritated brow at Jason but didn’t respond. Instead, he took another drink of the beer he’d forgotten he held and kept a close eye on the game going on at the pool table.

And he didn’t mean billiards. Neil had to be the same chap from the stable incident. Miranda kept a steady flow of conversation going, asking questions with guileless charm and a smile that blinded.

The sucker didn’t stand a chance. Hell, he didn’t either for that matter.

Ten minutes later, the game ended in victory for Miranda as she sank the eight ball. With a whoop of delight, she and a grinning Neil clapped hands in a celebratory high five.

Matt hated it. Perhaps Neil needed a stronger warning to back off. The punk replaced his cue stick in the rack and, with a polite nod to the group, headed off to the bar.

Miranda strolled over to the table with a smug little smile. “I won.”

“We’re happy for you.” Matt didn’t even try to make that sound convincing. “What are you doing here?”

Her smile disappeared. “Having a pleasant night out. Try not to spoil it, will you?”

“Funny choice of hangouts.” Matt set his beer on the table and leaned back. “You were the last person I expected to find here.”

“Why? You don’t think I’m capable of having fun?”

His eyes roamed her loosely clasped hair, sleeveless shirt, and form-fitting jeans. She was fresh, wholesome, and sexy as hell. She likely drew the attention of more than just Neil. And that worried him to no end.

“What you are
capable
of is what worries me. Along with your overly curious nature and penchant for trouble.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a keeper.”

Matt stood up to better match her growing temper. “Perhaps you do. From what I’ve seen you’re prone to rash acts.”

She snorted. “Hardly. I’d not be where I am now by making bad decisions.”

“So it’s a recent phenomenon.” He shrugged. “One that needs to be curbed.”

Jason and Letta were watching them, their heads swinging from one to the other as they argued, but Matt was beyond caring. Miranda drove him crazy. She had no business being here.

“Well, if you’re volunteering for the job, forget it.” She crossed her arms and tapped the sandaled toes of her right foot. “You’re much too bossy.”

“If you want bossy, keep risking your fool neck playing games. I’ll teach you the meaning of the word.”

“Ah, hello you two,” Jason injected with a wave.

He was ignored.

“I don’t know when you got the idea that you were responsible for me,” Miranda said. “But it’s got to stop. I’ve managed to live twenty-nine years without a babysitter.”

“Amazing, given the company you keep.”

“Are you talking about Neil?” Miranda asked sweetly. “Because unlike you, he’s nothing but pleasant and had some interesting things to say, if you must know.”

“That’s not all he was interested in.”

She gasped in feminine outrage. “That is uncalled for! And so was that secret male code to establish territory!”

“Excuse me.” Jason tried interfering again.

Again Matt ignored him. “Have you no sense of how dangerous it is around here for an unescorted female?”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Miranda said, “I’m hardly out here alone.”

“Bloody hell, Miranda! Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because you are autocratic, domineering, mule-headed—”

“Mule-headed? Me?” He took two steps closer, his anger beginning to boil. “That’s impossible. You hold the corner on that market.”

Jason slapped his pool cue on the table, effectively snagging their attention. Both swiveled their heads his direction. “Why don’t you two just kiss and get it over with?”

Letta choked on her drink. Miranda scowled.

Matt staggered under the dawning realization that he’d done it again. Since he’d met Miranda, he lost control of situations with alarming frequency.

“What are you blathering about?” Miranda asked.

“Oh, please.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Lust is written all over you both. If it got any hotter, you’d burst into flames.”

Dammit to hell. Matt felt like kicking himself. He could write off discovering anything useful here tonight. Everyone sitting or standing in a ten-foot radius was staring. He’d foolishly drawn attention to himself by arguing like a jealous lover. Worse yet, it was pretty damn close to the truth. Seeing her laughing with Neil triggered testosterone-induced hostility. He wanted to slam something. Mainly, Neil.

Disgusted with his lack of control, Matt dropped into his chair with a derisive snort.

“Listen up, both of you.” Jason settled back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “This has to stop. You’re like a couple of hissing cats and arguing won’t accomplish anything. Isn’t that right, Letta?”

“He’s right.” Letta gave an apologetic look to Miranda and Matt. “I don’t understand what’s going on between you both, but sparks are flying.”

Miranda sat down with a heavy sigh.

“That’s better.” Jason tipped his beer bottle her direction. “If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d see this tension for what it is. And you”—he aimed his beer missile toward Matt—“need a lesson on how to handle a contrary female like the doc.”

Matt would’ve laughed if Jason hadn’t been right. What the hell. He might as well put what’s left of tonight to good use. He might actually learn something. Besides, Miranda looked a bit disgruntled and anything that put the brakes on her was worth listening to.

Matt scooted his chair closer to the table. “I’m in. What’ve you got?”

“Take notes, my man. I’m about to share with you something I like to call…‘Pearls of Wisdom’ by Jason Harvick.”

Matt signaled the waitress for another round. This was going to be interesting.

Friday night at Half Jacks proved enlightening, if nothing else. During the last hour, Matt gained dubious insight on the convoluted method of Jason’s love theory and how it applied to people like Miranda and himself.

Watching Miranda squirm, sputter, and scoff was the most entertainment he’d enjoyed in a long while. Jason did have surprising insight, however, and Matt actually gleaned a few useful tidbits that he filed away for future reference.

Determined not to let the night be a complete bust as far as work was concerned, Matt kept a sharp eye on Neil. He noted every detail of his actions. The people he spoke to, what moves he made, even what beer the guy drank. All while listening to Jason and appearing nonchalant under Miranda’s eagle eye. She’d jump right into the fray if she caught a mere whiff of what he intended.

“So, you see, my good man,” Jason spoke as though he imparted wisdom of the ages, “male and female alike instinctively cover up true feelings with layers of fine-grained sand. It’s the smart man that bides his time and filters the clues, watching for nuggets of gold to appear.”

Miranda choked on her wine and started laughing. “Honestly, Jason. I’ve worked with you almost two years and had no idea you were such a philosopher!”

“Don’t laugh,” Matt defended him with barely suppressed humor. “I believe I’ll add those ‘Pearls of Wisdom’ to my collection of finer knowledge.”

Jason shrugged off their friendly mocking. “Go ahead and laugh. Just remember… I started college as a psychology major before switching to veterinary.”

“I thought it was criminal justice,” Miranda said.

“Psych was my first major, criminal justice the second.”

“How many have you had?” Letta asked.

“Three. And generally speaking, working with animals is far more rewarding than analyzing humans. Though psych comes in handy occasionally.” The last he emphasized with a glare to Matt and Miranda.

“Okay, okay.” Miranda smiled good-naturedly. “I concede to your higher wisdom and will never doubt your skill again.”

“Where’s my pen?” Jason patted his pockets. “I need to get that in writing.”

“Don’t push it.”

Matt laughed along with everyone else while his gaze strayed to Neil standing at the end of the bar. The punk downed the last of his beer and tossed money down next to the empty bottle. Just the signal he’d been waiting for. Neil was leaving.

With a mumbled excuse about the men’s room, Matt got up and headed toward the restrooms. About halfway, he pulled a fast one and ducked out the side door instead.

Stepping into a darkened alley, he aimed straight for the street just in time to see Neil exit the front door. When the punk reached the alley, Matt stepped out and began walking beside him. “Want to have a word with you, Neil.”

At first startled, his soon to be informer looked ready to fight, but then his surprise turned to recognition and his expression wary. “Look,
brah
, I meant no harm with your
bokkie
. She’s just a pretty girl at the bar.”

“Really? And I thought you were just a volunteer at Katanga.”

Neil stopped and turned to face Matt. “What’s your game, man?”

“You were with Diana on festival day.”

“So?”

“The two of you disappeared into the stable. Three came out.”

The punk gave a nervous glance up the road toward the bar, then began walking again. Without a word, Matt followed him past a coffee shop, then a local attorney’s office where they rounded the street corner and stopped.

Neil managed a belligerent tilt to his chin in an effort of false bravado. “You looking for trouble?”

“I’m always looking for trouble.” Matt looked him square in the eye. “It’s where the money is.”

“No money here. Go look somewhere else.”

Time to tread carefully. Neil had a direct connection to the men of Glory Hill. Coming on too strong or too fast would scare him off. “My nose is rarely wrong, friend. It’s my bread and butter. You see, I like living higher than a janitor’s salary pays.”

“Not my problem.”

“Maybe not.” Matt leaned back against the chipped stucco wall of the corner building. “Maybe I need to talk to that third guy from the stable. Shouldn’t be too hard to scare him up.”

“
Non, brah
! Boss don’t like intruders.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“He’s mean as a snake. Won’t like you poking around.”

“Then how’s a guy to get in on the action?”

Neil’s weak chin stuck out a notch. “Ain’t no action.”

“Don’t try and smoke me,
brah
. I’ll go around you.”

At that threat, his uncooperative mole turned calculating. “You might work for me. I could use someone inside Katanga.”

“You pay well?”

“Depends on the work.”

“What about Diana?”

Neil snorted in disdain. “Women don’t make good partners. They start getting mouthy and ask stupid questions. She’s losing her usefulness.”