Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole (14 page)

Food is always a good ice breaker.

Chapter Twenty-three

The three of us were quiet while we served ourselves portions of the appetizers.  Nate had placed a sample of each item on the plate instead of the amount that would normally be served.  I started with roasted eggplant served with roasted garlic dip, and quickly added some stuffed mushrooms.  Before I could reach for the fried calamari rings, Janet and Chris dove into them.  Nate had added shrimp cakes, and chicken and duck pâté served with onion chutney and Greek-style Petrou olives.  Lastly, there was stuffed antipasto bread, and stuffed grape leaves. Who needed a main dish?

Janet took a bite of a shrimp cake and groaned.  “Oh, this is sooo good!  But it’s not going to get you off the hook.”

“Maybe this won’t, but wait until he serves the entrée.”  I hoped it was something wonderful – food to soothe the angry beast, or copper as the case may be.

“So tell me what you know about John Jackson, and don’t leave anything out.”  Janet took a bite of the stuffed antipasto bread and
closed her eyes while tilting her head back in appreciation.

While we ate Chris and I told her about the Church Ladies, what Addie had overheard, and what we’d done so far.  We told her about Victor, the intended victim, and that he didn’t seem to know why anyone would want to
bump him off.

She lifted her right eyebrow every so often while we
talked.

“So why didn’t you call me right away?” she asked.

“Because we didn’t have anything concrete,” Chris replied.  “What was I going to do?  Call you and say, ‘Hey, we know some Church Ladies who have a friend who
might
have overheard a murder-for-hire conversation.  Yeah, she hid out in the back of a camper being driven by a possible killer.  And, by the way, the intended victim hasn’t got a clue about who might want him dead.’”

“You really don’t have any more information than that?” Janet asked.

“We’ve met with Victor, and he has some retired cop friend who’s watching out for him,” I said.  “He asked us to do what we could, when we can.  Have we told you anything that would have made you become involved in this case before now?”

“Not really,” she replied
, sounding reluctant to admit she wouldn’t have listened to us.  “But now that Jackson is dead, I’ve got to look at all sides of this thing.  Are you sure these Church Ladies, as you call them, are a reliable source of information?”

“Who knows?” Chris replied.  “They’re a bunch of little old ladies who pray at the drop of a hat.  But so far they’ve been mostly reliable, even if they are a nightmare to me.”

“I knew it!” I said.  “I knew you felt that way.  Why, these are some of the nicest ladies I’ve ever known, Christopher Cross!”

“Don’t get mad at me,
babe.  You know they’ve been under our feet through this whole thing.  I like them, too.  But you have to admit, they can be as cockamamie as anyone we’ve ever met.  And they can be downright intimidating sometimes.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Nate arrived with a cart and more food.

“Saved by the chef,” Chris mumbled.

Nate cleared off the appetizer platters and began placing serving plates
and bowls on the table.  “Here we have our salads,” he said, setting the scene.  “We have Grilled Chicken Summer Salad, the standard Caesar Salad, and a fresh fruit plate.  Of course, I will be providing other salads, too.  And your soups.  For today you have your choice of Vichyssoise, Lobster Bisque, Creamy Sauerkraut or Tomato Florentine.
Bon appétit
!”  He left to return to the kitchen to work on his presentation of the entrees.

“You’d better snatch this guy up in a hurry,” Janet said.  “
If you have Chef Nathaniel preparing lunches, and Chef Luis here in the evening, you’re going to have to beat off the crowd with sticks.  Hey, wait a minute.  You’re not open for lunch.”

“We will be starting soon,” I said.  “Nate is a retired chef who’s bored and said he’d take the lunch crowd for us.”

“Okay,” Janet said, “back to our situation.  I can’t do anything about Victor because I don’t have anything to tie him and the murder together.  Nothing solid, that is.  I want – ”

“Can’t you
have someone watch him?” I asked, interrupting.

“Not enough manpower right now.”

Chris smiled.  “So we’re still in the game then.”

“It’s not a game, and yes you are,” Janet said, grudgingly.  “I want you to share anything and everything you find out with me.  Understood?  And you’re not to take unnecessary chances of any kind.”

She turned to me.  I knew that technically Janet could tell us to back off, but she knew we wouldn’t.  A warning was the best she could do at the moment.

“You do recall almost being murder
ed some months back, right?”  Janet was playing dirty by reminding me.

“Yes.  How could I forget?  We’re not taking any dangerous chances.  John Jackson had apparently found out about our business.  We
think he followed us.  On the off chance that he’d figured out where we lived, we sent Mikey to stay with Constance for a few days, but I think he can come home now.  We don’t know anything about the partner, and he’s probably figured that out since we haven’t been watching him.

“The only one who’s seen him is Addie, and she’s in hiding.  He’ll never find her at Jasmine’s house.”  I was proud of the way we’d taken care of things.
 

Janet’s expression was skeptical, at best, but she refrained from saying anything.

Nate returned with his cart and the entrees.

“You’re hired,” Chris said, patting his stomach.

“But you haven’t tried the – ”

“We will, but the fact remains that you’re going to be a blessing for
Bogey Nights
.”

Janet and I turned to each other.

“Did he just say
blessing
?” Janet asked.

“I believe he did,” I replied, “which tells me there’s hope for him yet.”

“It was a slip of the tongue,” Chris said.  “I’ve spent way too much time around those Church Ladies.”

Nate returned to the kitchen, smiling and whistling, and we gawked at the dishes he’d brought to us. 
Grilled Eggplant Parmigiana, bacon-wrapped cornish hens with a raspberry balsamic glaze, grilled salmon, and ratatouille, accompanied by carrots with shallots, sage, and thyme and green beans with a sweet onion vinaigrette.  Just to make sure we couldn’t walk away from the table, he’d also left a Shoofly Pie.

“No dinner for me tonight,” Janet said.

“Me, either,” Chris added.

“I may not eat for a week
.” I patted my belly.

“I’d like to meet these lady friends of yours,” Janet said.  “Maybe I can glean something from talking to them that you missed.”

“Can you come back here tonight?” I asked.

“If I have to
, but I’m so full that the sight of more food is going to be a problem.”

“We’ll seat you in the lounge with the women,” Chris suggested.
  “You might have to smell food, but you won’t have to look at it.”  He was grinning.  He knew from Janet’s reactions that hiring Nate had been a smart move.

Janet left
after finishing her food, shaking her head in disgust because she’d eaten so much, and I called Jasmine.  “Can you and the other ladies come to the restaurant tonight?” I asked.

“Any special reason?”

“I have a friend who’s a homicide detective, and she’d like to talk to you.”

“
Homicide detective? 
Did those men finally catch up to Victor?  Oh, my goodness, Florence will be heartbroken.  She just thinks that man walks on water, although you and I know of only One who can do that.” She chuckled.

“Before you start praying for Victor’s soul, he’s okay.”  Oops.  I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, and that sounded kind of snide.  “I’m sorry, Jasmine.  That came out wrong.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, kindly.  “But what’s going on?  What does your homicide detective want with us?”

“The goon that drove the black truck, John, has been murdered.  She’s looking into his death, and obviously we think it had something to do with the whole Victor
thing.”

“
No,
” she said, sounding surprised.  “Someone killed the bad guy?  I’ll get the girls together.  His is one soul that does need prayer.”  She tsked-tsked, and I rolled my eyes, glad we were on the phone instead of face to face.  “I’ll also make sure everyone can be at the restaurant tonight.  What time do you want us there?”

We talked for a moment longer and I said dinner would be on us; to bring their appetites along.  Jasmine blessed me and said goodbye, already talking to Addie as she hung up the phone.

She called me back about ten minutes later.  “We’ll all be there except Addie.  This whole thing has really taken it out of her.  She even made an appointment to see her doctor.  Poor thing; she took on a lot more than she bargained for when she climbed into the camper.  But as scared as she was of that bad man, she’s still going to pray for him with us.  Of course, I wouldn’t have expected less from her.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.
  Maybe Janet can visit Addie at your house.  She’s the one she really needs to talk to since she saw and overheard the two men.”

George Chandler, our waiter and George Raft look-alike
, arrived shortly after I returned to the dining room.  Phyllis and Gloria had Wednesdays and Thursdays off.  George was joined about five minutes later by Susan French.  Susan doesn’t resemble anyone but herself, although she does dress the part, and she’s rather exotic looking.  I watched the two working together, and it briefly crossed my mind that they’d become somewhat of an item since they’d come to work for us.

Ah, the world of restaurants.  It seemed like there was always something going on.

The phone rang and Susan tore herself away from George long enough to answer it.  “Pamela, it’s for you.  He says it’s personal.  Someone named Victor?”

She handed me the receiver.  “Victor?  What’s up?”

“Plenty,” he replied.  “The police were just here to see me.”

Oh, crap!
  Chris and I had forgotten to call the intended victim.  Some private eyes
we
were.

“They told me that someone named John Jackson was murdered and they wanted to know if I knew him.  Who’s John Jackson?”  He sounded beyond irritated.
  “They didn’t tell me anything and they wouldn’t answer my questions.  They just wanted to know if I knew John Jackson.”

“He’s the man who drove the black truck with the white camper.  He’s the man we suspect of being hired to murder you.”

“Oh?  So he’s dead?  Then I guess things are all over and my life can go back to normal.”  His tone of voice had definitely changed from aggravated to friendly.

“Victor, don’t get too excited.  You’re forgetting that Jackson had a partner.  You’re not out of the woods yet, I’m sorry to say.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Victor sighed, loudly and dramatically.  I figured that was for my benefit.  “What now?” he asked.

“The ladies are coming to the restaurant tonight to talk to a homicide detective.  She’s going to be working on this, too, although she’ll be coming from the direction of the murder investigation.  We don’t honestly know that Jackson’s death had to do with the threat against you.”

“Well, make room for me, too.  What time is everyone meeting?  I want to be in on this.  After all, we’re talking about my life here.”

“Good idea,” I replied.  “Can your retired cop friend come, too?”

“Unfortunately, no.  He had a family emergency to attend to.  But at least I’ll be safe if I’m with all of you at the restaurant.”

After telling him what time the ladies would arrive, we hung up.  I told him dinner was on the house.  We were going to be offering a lot of
free dinners, but what the heck?  Maybe we’d finally accomplish something.  I also suggested that he park in back and come in through the office door so he wouldn’t be seen, just in case Jackson’s partner was nearby.  I explained about the dogs and told him they were friendly, but I’d wait for him outside so they couldn’t jump all over him.

Hanging up the receive
r, I turned to find Chris standing behind me.

“We forgot to call Victor,” I said.  “I can’t believe we
both
forgot him.  He’s what this whole thing is about.”

Chris looked sheepish.  “We dropped the ball, but it won’t happen again.  I won’t let it.”

“This had been an extremely busy day.”  I sat down on a chair in the waiting area.  “I can’t wait to finish things up and go home to our nice, warm bed.”

Chris grinned at me.  “Come here,
doll.”  He pulled me up and held me close.  “Maybe we can find some new ways to keep that bed warm tonight.”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked.

“Nah.  All this drama keeps my blood flowing and my brain on the alert.”

“You big lummox.  Doesn’t anything ever get you down?”

“Nope.  Why don’t you go have a glass of wine to calm you down while I open the restaurant?  Just this once.”

“No, I’m tired enough already.  A cup of coffee would make more sense.”

“Then take a cup of coffee with you back to the office and relax. I’ll take care of things for a while.”  Chris unlocked the front door.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” I asked.

“It’ll be slow for now.  You go unwind.”

What a guy.  He really cared about me.

Luis had coffee ready for the customers and he poured me a cup to take back to the office.  “You look tired, Pamela.  No offense,” he added quickly.  “You’re always a vision, but you do appear tired tonight.”

“It’s been a busy day,” I replied,
“and it’s not over yet.”  Glancing around, I noticed that our sous chef, Phillip, was already hard at work.  I carried my mug and headed toward the office for a few minutes of peace and quiet.

After closing
the door between the kitchen and the office, I opened the back door to let the dogs in.  I always hesitated to do this because I knew if the Health Department found out I’d probably be sorry.  Sherlock and Watson shed constantly.  I kept a small vacuum in the corner and frequently cleaned up the office.  The last thing we needed was for someone to find a dog hair in their food.

These were my thoughts when I opened the back door.  The dogs were just finishing
the food Chris had put out for them and they ignored me until the last bite was gone.  After that, it was every man, woman and child for themselves. They came racing in to wallow in the attention they knew I’d give them.  Throwing herself on the floor, Watson rolled onto her back and waited for some scratching.  Not to be outdone, Sherlock offered me his paw for a shake.

“My babies,” I said lovingly to each of them.  “You’re good dogs.  Yes, you are.  Mikey will be here soon.”  Watson scrambled up and sat watching me.

They recognized the name and gave me a look, trying to figure out what I was saying about the boy they considered one of their playmates.  Sherlock dropped his paw and turned toward the doorway.  Watson jumped up and ran outside.  Someone was coming.  Sherlock let out a sound of recognition and followed her.

I heard childish giggling and knew my son and Constance had arrived.
  So much for quiet time, but that didn’t matter as long as my son was with me.  I followed the dogs outside where I found them smothering Mikey with doggie kisses.

“
Mom!
” Mikey yelled, pushing the dogs down and running forward. He threw his arms around me.  “I’ve missed you and dad.”

“We’ve missed you, too.”  I hugged him back.  “And you can come home now.”

“I can?”  He sounded excited.  “No more danger?”

“Yes, Pamela, what about the danger?” Constance asked.

We walked into the office and I closed the door so Sherlock and Watson would have to stay outside.  I heard one of them scratch at the door in an attempt to get me to open it.

“It’s, uh, been eliminated.  No more safety problems.”  I patted Mikey on the back while giving Constance a pointed look.  Would she get my meaning?

“Oh,” she said.  “Do you mean what I think you mean?”

“Probably.  We’ll talk while Mikey…”
  My voice trailed off, not wanting my son to think I was hiding something from him – which I was.

“While I what?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go help your dad greet the customers?”  I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist that, and interestingly Constance had told Mikey to dress up for the evening.  Well, he never did show up at
Bogey Nights
in jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops.  After all, that wouldn’t fit in with our motif.  Besides, Mikey liked dressing the part.  He was wearing slacks with cuffs and loose legs, topped off by suspenders over his pin-striped shirt.  I smiled.  He looked like a mini Bogey Man.

Constance, who felt completely at home in the restaurant, walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.  Returning, she sat down on the small sofa we’d put in the office.

“So what happened?” she asked.  “When you say your trouble was eliminated, do you mean that he was really eliminated or has he been arrested?”

“He’s dead.  Somebody bumped him off.”

“Pulled the curtain on his last act?”  Constance was smiling.

“Is there something funny about it?” I asked.

“No, it’s just the way you talk sometimes.  It cracks me up.  You and Chris are perfect for each other.  And you never used to use forties slang until you met him.  I like it.”

“Yeah, well…”

“So the guy is buzzard bait.”

“See?  You talk like we do.”

“So does Mikey.  And, by the way, he’s started rolling his eyes a lot.  Sound familiar?  You might want to break him of the habit.”

“Well,” I said, “there are worse habits he could pick up from me.
  And don’t try to tell me his eyes will get stuck that way.”

“Okay, enough
about Mikey.  So what happens now?  Does this guy’s death mean your client is safe?”

“Not really.  The dead guy had a partner.  I’m guessing the two men had some kind of falling out, and now the partner will go after Victor.  He and the
Church Ladies are coming in tonight to meet with Janet.   She has a lot of questions.”

“The Church Ladies?  When are they going to be here?”  Cons
tance sounded almost too calm as she slid forward on the sofa.

“Are you thinking that you and Mikey will eat and run?  You know these women are harmless. 
We all attend the same church, and you’ve known them even longer than I have.”

“Exactly.  I’ve known them for a long time.  I love them to pieces, but I don’t wear blinders.  I know how pushy they can be when they want something.”

“Then you’re safe.  They don’t want a thing from you.  They’re totally focused on me and Chris right now.”

Constance walked over to my desk and patted my back.  “Poor baby.  They’ve brainwashed you.”

For the first time since Constance and I had become friends, I was annoyed with her. I looked up and rolled my eyes.

She backed away.  “Okay, I know I’m not being very nice.  But they’ve suckered me into more than one
job at church events that I didn’t want to become involved in.  I try to steer clear of them as often as possible.”

“They mean well,” I said for the umpteenth time.  It seemed like that had become my job
– to tell everyone the ladies didn’t do things out of malice, but out of love for people.

“You’re right.  If they’re coming early enough, Mikey and I will stay and make nice with them. 
Lila and May are okay.  It’s Jasmine.  She’s so
demanding
.”  She paused with a faraway look in her eyes, possibly remembering moments of irritation involving Jasmine.

She blinked her eyes and turned her focus back to me. 
“And you’re going to pick Mikey up tonight, is that right?”

“Yes.  I can’t wait to have him home, sleeping in his own bed.  The dogs have missed him, too.”

Mikey stuck his head around the doorframe.  “Dad says you need to come out now because the Church Ladies are here.  He needs your help.”

Constance laughed and followed me through the kitchen and out to the reception area where we found Chris surrounded by three very talkative ladies.
  I noticed that this time they hadn’t worn vintage clothing, but had decided to wear slacks instead.  Except for Lila, who never wore anything but a dress or skirt and blouse.

“One at a time,” Chris was saying.  He saw me and looked relieved.

“Is he really dead?” Jasmine asked.

Chris turned to me.  “Pamela, would you please seat the ladies while I take care of the other patrons?”

“Follow me, ladies,” I said.  “And Mikey, you come along, too.”

He looked disappointed, but he and Constance followed me to a table near the lounge.
  Knowing Mikey, he really wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening at a table packed with elderly ladies.

“I’m going to seat you all here because Janet will be meeting with you in the lounge when she arrives.  You’ve got about an hour to eat before she’ll be here.”  I pulled up a sixth chair and placed it at the end of the table
, and set a menu in front of each woman.  I knew what Mikey would want, but I set one in front of him, too.

“Are we expecting someone else?” Jasmine asked.

“Victor is going to join you for dinner.  He wants to know what’s going on, too.  Is that a problem?”

“Certainly not,” Jasmine replied.  “If I were him, I’d want the inside dope, too.”

“Yes, the inside dope,” May echoed.

“After all, it is his life
that’s in jeopardy,” Lila added.

Constance put her hand to her head as though she had a headache.

Susan approached the table just long enough to take drink orders.  I noticed Lila was having wine again, while everyone else ordered iced tea.

“
Victor should be here any minute.  I told him to come in by the back door, so I’d better go watch for him.  I don’t want the dogs to knock him down.”

“Would they do that?” Lila asked.

“Not purposely, but they do get excited when a new
friend
comes to visit.  Especially if I’m not there to keep them calm.”

“Can I come with you, Mom?” Mikey asked.  “I’m good at keeping the dogs under control.”

“Sure.”

We walked back to my office and the first thing I heard was a man yelling for help.

“Uh oh,” I said.

Mikey opened the door and ran outside.

I followed him and found Victor pushed up against the fence with the dogs up on their hind legs, licking anything they could reach for all they were worth.  One of the Lab traits is that they use their tongue and mouth as often as possible.  Things can get messy when a happy Lab is on the scene.

Victor looked about as stressed as I’d seen him, which was saying a lot since someone wanted to kill him.