Here Comes Trouble (13 page)

Without any real destination in mind, Lacy drove through the town of Trouble and ended up at McDermott’s.

Seven

Slamming dishes and voices from the busy kitchen indicated the dinner service at McDermotts was well underway. Servers came and went, balancing dishes with expert ease, to the dining room. Lacy spotted Becky-Lynn just as she swept through the kitchen doors and placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Is Chase on the floor?”

The blonde with the most unusual shade of blue eyes tossed Lacy a distracted glance. “I think he’s up in his office.” She left the explanation at that and power walked to the dining room. Becky-Lynn was one of those people who didn’t talk unless you initiated the conversation. Even then the girl usually left her answers at three to four words. Lacy didn’t know that much about her except she’d graduated from a local city college and had yet to move onto something else. Despite that, there was something about the young girl that hit Lacy close to home. They may not know each other that well, but Lacy had always felt a connection with Becky Lynn. She saw something of herself in the girl; the same lack of direction in school and the same wariness of others.

“Hey, Lacy. What’re you doing back here?” Diane, a forty-something mother of four, said as she fed orders into the computer. The frazzled mother was one of those people who’d give you her last dollar of you needed it. She’d been forced to return to work after her husband suffered some sort of work-related injury and was restricted to bed rest. Her rosy cheeks and permanent grin gave her a sort of Mrs. Claus demeanor. Premature streaks of gray accented her dark hair, which was cut into one of those short, spiky styles. Lacy always thought the cut didn’t really suit Diane’s personality. It looked more like something that belonged on a seventeen-year-old boy.

“I forgot to pick up my paycheck earlier.” Lacy stepped out of the way of another server who walked swiftly to the kitchen. “It’s a mad house tonight.”

Diane inhaled a deep breath. “Tell me about it. I stayed to pick up an extra shift but now I’m wishing I’d gone home. I think I’d rather face my four rowdy boys than this mess.” She finished typing in her order and turned to face Lacy.

Diane had been picking a lot of extra shifts lately. In fact, the woman worked almost every single night. The amount of time Diane put into the restaurant left Lacy to wonder how Diane had time to take care of her ailing husband and kids. Was her family that desperate for money that Diane had to work seven days a week? Was workman’s compensation not enough for them?

“Haven’t you worked almost every single night this week?” Lacy asked, not able to keep her curiosity at bay.

Diane glanced at Lacy. “I haven’t had a night off in two weeks. I need the extra money.”

The poor woman. Lacy’s heart went out to her. “Doesn’t workmen’s comp help out?”

Diane snorted. “It’s barely enough to cover groceries. I had to tell my second oldest son that he couldn’t go to band camp this summer.”

Lacy placed a hand on the other woman’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Diane. I wish there was something I could do.”

“I appreciate that,” she answered with a closed-lip smile. “But it won’t last forever. We’ll get back on our feet soon.”

If I ever get the nerve to cash that check, I could use some of the money for good. Like help out Diane and her family
.

Lacy glanced around the restaurant and decided to change the subject. “How’s the service going so far?” At the very last second, she held back a comment on the recent shortage of supplies. Lacy didn’t want to be the one starting rumors about thefts, or whatever the heck went on, if the whole thing turned about to be innocent. She certainly didn’t want to think Diane, of all people, could be responsible. So far all she had was one unusual service and that incident in the parking lot. Hardly solid evidence.

Diane nodded and her long, dangly earrings swung back and forth. “Other than being crazy, it’s good. The tips tonight have been great.” She picked her black order book. “I’ve got to go check on some dishes. I think Chase is in his office.”

She walked away before Lacy had a chance to say anything else. It wasn’t like Chase to be holed up in his office on such a busy night.

The noise of the dining room faded away when she walked through the door that led upstairs. The blinding industrial light was always a shock after the dim interior of the candlelit downstairs. Why Mr. M. chose such unflattering, hideous lighting was a mystery to her. Must be a man thing.

The door to Chase’s office was closed when Lacy approached. She knocked softly three times but didn’t hear a response. After waiting a good minute, she pushed down the silver handle and opened the door. On the other side, Chase stood at one end of his desk with his arms crossed over his thick chest. Opposite him was his father, looking considerably more at ease with his hand in his jeans pockets.
Wow, jeans. Mr. M. must be feeling especially light-hearted today
.

Mr. M. had always scared the shit out of her as a child. His snow-white hair was so thick it almost looked unnatural for a man his age. The sheer size of Chase’s father never ceased to intimidate Lacy. The man had his son by probably a couple inches and towered over Lacy by what seemed like three-feet. He was the kind of man that created a hush over a room when he walked in His legs were miles long and roughly the size of tree trunks. But when he smiled, the whole intimidation factor melted away from him. Unfortunately, he didn’t direct his smile at her too often.

When he spotted her, his thick, white brows shot up his wrinkled brow. “Good evening, Ms. Taylor.” Oh, and he always felt the need to address her as “Ms. Taylor” like she was some formal acquaintance he’d just met. Never mind the fact that his son was one of her best friends.

She lingered by the door, fearful of him squashing her like a bug if she took one step farther into the room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I can come back.”

Chase, who’d inherited his father’s dominating personality, remained motionless and speechless. Lacy wasn’t sure he’d so much as blinked.

She kept her gaze trained on his father.

“No, that won’t be necessary. We’re finished here.”

An awkward silence, like the kind that followed when someone made an inappropriate comment, nearly suffocated Lacy. With a clear of his throat, Mr. M. turned on his heel and Lacy moved out of his way as he left the office. Her nosy side reared its ugly head, tempting her to say, “What the heck was that about?” Instead she settled for, “Is everything okay?”

The muscles in Chase’s jaw flexed and his lips had flattened into a hard line. The movements created a, “Don’t Mess With Me” look.

“Just business stuff,” he replied out of barely-moving lips.

She took that as her cue to change the subject. “I need to get my paycheck.”

His penetrating blue gaze raked over her, as if seeing the naked flesh beneath her clothing. Instant, hot memories of last night flashed before her eyes, like a broken movie reel spinning the same scene over and over again. Scenes of heavy breathing, a rocking mattress and bare, intertwined limbs had her sucking in a steadying breath. Chase was a man who knew how to satisfy a woman in bed and leave her wanting more. He was like an addictive drug she’d experimented with and now had to have another taste. And if not careful, she could become an addict.

“Sure,” he said in a more normal voice, bringing her thoughts back to the subject at hand.

His long, confident stride took him to a locked cabinet against the wall, right next to the bathroom door.

Pure, self-indulgence had her checking him out the same way he had her. His hard ass filled his slate gray slacks to bone-melting perfection. Lower, powerful, muscle-bound thighs strained beneath the expensive fabric of his pants. A narrow waist flared out to mile-wide shoulders that she’d run her hands and had her legs hooked over. What a dirty mind she’d developed.

He turned in time to catch her gawking. There was definitely no bouncing back from that. He gripped her check in one large, blunt-fingered hand; the same hand that had touched every touchable inch of her body. Okay, time to leave before she stripped and offered herself up like a sacrificial lamb.

“Here you go.” He held it out to her.

For a moment, she only stared before she realized he expected her to come and get it. Boy, he really knew how to play the game.

Fine. She could be within touching distance and maintain her composure. She closed the short distance between them and slid the check from of his hand. He didn’t let her get away so easily. His long fingers ran along the backs of hers and each and every little hair on her arm stood on end in the wake of his touch. The man didn’t play fair.

“You busy later?”

She ran her free hand through her long hair and contemplated his question. “Later, as in, tonight?”
Tonight as in, when it gets dark and people do certain things in the dark?

“Yeah, tonight.” His eyes danced with dangerous mischief.

Rather than admit pathetically that she was indeed free, she sidestepped his question with one of her own. “Why?”

He pinched her chin with his thumb and index finger. “Keep your light on for me.”

Apparently he’d made the decision about his proposed affair for them, which Lacy didn’t much appreciate. She was perfectly capable of making her own decisions, thank you very much.

She crossed her arms in an attempt to stand her ground. “I never said I didn’t have plans. For all you know I could have a date.”

“You don’t have a date.”

Hot irritation had her cheeks burning to roughly the same temperature as a volcano. How dare the man insinuate she didn’t have a date? How did he know she didn’t have a hoard of men lined up around her door? Did he think she was that pathetic?

Self-respect had her lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes at him. “I beg your pardon? You don’t know that.”

It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “Do you?”

She didn’t answer at first, hoping to let him suffer in silence for a moment. Then with a teeny-tiny bit of defeat she admitted, “Well, no –”

“Wait up for me, then,” he said, then turned his back and walked to his desk, effectively ending their discussion.

Of all the pig-headed things…

“Excuse me –” she started, when a voice from the doorway stopped her.

“Chase, there’s an issue in the kitchen,” Marie, the hostess, announced in a rushed voice.

Chase expelled a weary breath. “This seems to be the night of issues.”

The proverbial door on their conversation had been slammed shut by Marie’s announcement. Lacy took the opportunity to slip out of the office before Chase turned thunderous. She left the restaurant with her check in hand and mixed feelings in her head. The most dominant was sexual anticipation. All the way home she wondered if Chase was serious about seeing her later or if he’d bluffed just to keep her on her toes.

****

The night ended on a decidedly sour note, turning his shitty mood even shittier. One catastrophe had turned into another, starting with one of his waitresses flaking on him and ending with the register drawer fifty dollars short. He’d remedied that with the teeth-gritting solution of pulling some cash out of his own wallet. His father didn’t need to know. By that time the old man had gone home where he belonged. And it’s not like fifty bucks would put Chase in the poor-house. But the drawer
never
came up short. Chase simply didn’t allow things like that on his watch. He ran a tight ship here and hardly anything ever went wrong. Until recently. Between food missing and now money, it grew harder and harder to chalk all this up to human error. There were just too many coincidences.

How was all this happening under his nose? The only employee who was ever here without him was Henry. The last thing Chase wanted to think was that his head chef was stealing from them. So far what little evidence he did have pointed in the chef’s general direction. But how in the world would he have taken cash from the drawer? Henry never left the kitchen and if he did, someone would have definitely noticed him. So where did that leave Chase? With a few strange occurrences and thirty potential suspects. Not exactly a recipe for a nail-biting mystery. Maybe he ought to go over the surveillance again to make doubly sure he hadn’t missed anything.

He leaned back in his desk chair and scrubbed a tired hand down his face. The whiskers from his all-day beard growth scraped along the inside of his hand.

The mantle-style clock on his desk showed the time as a few minutes past ten-thirty. Everyone on the restaurant had gone home, leaving him alone to contemplate the business’ problems. The nightly deposit envelope with the cash, including his fifty dollars, sat on his desk.

With nothing left to do for the night, Chase gathered the envelope and his helmet, locked the place up and mounted his bike. The Harley growled to life and vibrated with a comforting strength beneath his legs. There was something about having the ability to harness the power of a motorcycle that sent adrenaline through his veins like a pleasure inducing drug. With every sleek turn of the handlebars, he felt as if he possessed some sort of super-human power. He rumbled down the quiet streets of Trouble, not really in any hurry to reach his destination. But Trouble, being the small town it was, meant the bank came into view in practically no time. He tossed the bag with the deposit slip into the slot and tucked the envelope into bike’s small back compartment.