Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole (18 page)

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Authors: Marja McGraw

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BOOK: Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole
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“We won’t know the answer to that until we find Jackson’s partner,” I replied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty

 

Before Constance left I asked her what she’d told Mikey about spending the night
at our house.  She said she’d been relatively honest with him.  “I told him that his dad had hit his head and needed to see a doctor, but that he was okay.  I told him it wasn’t anything to worry about, and he seemed fine with that explanation.”

“Thank you again,
Constance. I just don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Hopefully you’ll never
have to find out.”

Chris rested for most of the day, which was unusual in itself because he was a fairly high energy man. 
He did, however, seem to like being waited on.  I made him tea and toast, and served him in the living room.  He asked if I could bring him a napkin.  He wanted juice, and I brought him juice.  Then he wanted more tea, but on second thought decided he wanted coffee.  No, coffee might make his headache worse.  Would I please bring him milk instead? 

As I was returning to the kitchen, he called out reminding me that he needed a napkin.  I took him two.  He said he was ready for a sandwich, saying the toast hadn’t been enough food.  I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

I’d just reentered the kitchen when he asked if we had a bell that he could ring if he needed anything.  I clenched my fists and felt my back muscles tighten, and held my hands by my side. 


No!
” I snapped at him.  He was surprised at my sharp answer and I took advantage of the quiet moment and walked out the back door.

I played with the dogs and dusted the house before Mikey came
home from school.  Danny’s mother picked the two boys up after school and dropped Mikey off.  We shared school duty from time to time.

“Hey, Dad!” he yelled, bursting through the front door.  “How’s your head?”

Chris groaned, still fighting a headache.  “Fine.  Would you please lower your voice?”

“Okay,” Mikey whispered.  “How’s your head?  Can I see it?”

Chris sat up and turned so our son could see his stitches.

“Cool!” Mike
y said, examining the doctor’s handy work.  “Does it hurt?”

“Only when you yell
, Ace.  Or when I move.  Or breath.” 

I rolled my eyes.  How could I not?

Mikey finally put his backpack down and ran out to see the dogs, after showing very little pity for his father.  Chris seemed insulted by Mikey’s lack of sympathy.

“He’s seven.  What did you expect?” I asked.  “At the most, he may want to take a picture
of your head for posterity.”

I was seeing a side of Chris I’d never seen before, although he hadn’t been sick or injured since the day we were married.

“Where did he go?” Chris asked.

“To see the dogs.”

“Oh.”  He sounded disappointed that the dogs were receiving what should have been
his
attention.

I heard the back door open, and
then the clicking of toenails on the kitchen floor.  Knowing what to expect, thanks to lots of experience, I ran over and stopped the dogs in the kitchen before they could run into the living room and jump on Chris.  I held my hands up, palms facing the dogs.  They knew this was the signal to
stop
.  Surprisingly, they did.  Sherlock and Watson didn’t always listen to me.

“Mikey,” I said, loudly, “get the treats.  I don’t know how long they’re going to mind.”

Mikey came in from the service porch with a container full of doggie cookies and handed them to me.

“Good babies,” I said, calmly.  “Now
stay
.”  Sherlock wagged his tail, mopping the floor with it, and Watson sat very still, concentrating on the container.  They knew what was coming.  I handed each of them a treat.  Chewing it up, they dribbled crumbs all over the floor.

“Now you two have to remain calm.  Chris doesn’t need you jumping all over him.  Got that?”  Anyone listening would have thought they could understand me – and sometimes they
seemed to.  When I mentioned Chris’s name, they both turned to look at him.

“Mikey, go stand by your father, just in case they ignore me.”

My son straightened his back, enjoying being the one sent to save Chris.  He put his hands up as I had, with his palms facing the dogs.  “You two mutts had better not hurt my dad, or you’ll be in deep doo doo.”

“Mikey!” I said.

“I just said doo doo.  That’s not a bad thing to say.”

“Well…”

“Would everyone please go away and let me get some rest before I have to leave for work?”  Chris sounded pathetic, and Mikey fell for it.

“It’s okay, Dad.  I’ll take the dogs outside.”

Chris patted Mikey’s shoulder.  “You’re a good son.”

“Big fat baby,” I mumbled, leaving the room.

“I can still hear you,” Chris called after me.  “I’d like to hear what you’d sound like if someone had hit
you
over the head.”

I wouldn’t be whining nearly as much as you are
, I thought to myself.  No point in stirring things up by speaking my thoughts.  I always thought men were supposed to be so manly – strong and silent.  I sighed and continued into the kitchen.

Mikey put the dogs outside, handing them each another cookie, and then sat down at the table.  He was ready for an afternoon snack
– something to hold him over until dinner.

“What would we do without those dog treats?” I asked.  “I hate to bribe them to be good, but sometimes it’s necessary.”

Mikey leaned on the table.  “How about a people cookie?  We got any of those?”

I handed him a couple of crackers and a small glass of milk.  “
Do you think this will hold you until dinner?”

“Thank you, and yes.  Am I staying home or going to Constance’s house tonight?”

“I think you’ll go over to her house.  She spent the night here last night, so she’s probably ready for some stay-at-home time.  Okay?”

“Okay.  She’s got some good games at her house, and she got them just for me.”

“That’s our Constance,” I replied.  “You know she loves you like a grandson.”

Mikey smiled and ate the rest of his crackers.

Leaving him at the kitchen table with a comic book, I walked out to check on Chris.  “Are you feeling any better?”  I’d calmed down and realized that I was being too hard on him.

“I am.  I’m sorry I’ve been snapping at you
, cupcake.  Headaches really put me under.  Pain and I are like water and oil.  We don’t mix well.  Besides, I’m ticked off that someone got the drop on me.  I shoulda heard him coming.”

I sat down on the couch next to him
, realizing we’d finally come to the real cause for the complaining.  He was embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to protect himself.  “It’s okay, Chris.  I’m sorry for snapping back at you.  It was uncalled for, because I know you don’t feel well.  Besides, obviously this guy planned it out.  You wouldn’t have heard him coming.”

“I sure wish I’d gotten a look at the goon.  Unless the
coppers come up with a fingerprint or something, I don’t know how anyone’s going to figure out who Jackson’s partner is.”

“Maybe we can ask Addie for a better description.  There must be something that would identify him.  Saying he’s just plain average doesn’t help at all.”  I thought for a moment.  “I could call Donna again and pick her brain.”

“Donna?”

“You know, the waitress.  The one who’s coming to work for us?  Oh!  That reminds me.  I’ve got to start some hype about
Bogey Nights
being open for lunch.”

Leaving Chris on the couch, I returned to the kitchen and phoned Sharon Stone, a reporter and sometimes friend.  I hadn’t liked her initially, but after she hooked up with Davie, Chris’s best friend, I got to know her better.  She wasn’t all bad, after all.

After promising me that she’d put an article in the newspaper, she asked how things were going for Chris and me.

“Oh, just fine.  You know us.  Work, work, work.  Never a moment to ourselves.”  I pointedly avoided telling her about Victor because this woman liked nothing more than to insinuate herself into our lives.  She was always looking for a good story, trying to move up the ladder at work.

After we hung up I called a sign company and ordered a banner announcing the new hours and lunch.

I felt like I’
d done all I could, at least where
Bogey Nights
was concerned.

Picking up the
receiver again, I dialed Jasmine’s number.  It was time to talk to Addie and see if we could get a better description of Jackson’s partner.

Jasmine answered, and after blessing me and asking if we’d made any progress, she put Addie on the phone.

“Addie,” I said, “do you remember anything about the second man who was at that diner? 
Anything
would help.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“How tall was he?”

“About average.  Maybe as tall as Chris.”  She paused for a moment.  “No, just a shade shorter.”

“How about his hair color?” I asked.

“Hmm.  Kind of a lighter color,
like a light brown.  Well, not really brown, but not blond either.”

“Age?” I asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell you that.  He wasn’t young, but I’ve never been good at guessing people’s ages.”

“Eye color?”

“I never saw his eyes.  I’m sorry, Pamela, but I just got a brief look at him.  I only know what the man with the mustache looked like because of him coming to my house and me hiding out in his camper.”

“Speaking of that, how are you feeling?” I asked.

“Oh, fair to middlin’,” she replied.  “I really got in over my head, and it’s taken something away from me.  I just don’t feel as energetic as I used to.  I know it’s only been a few days since all of this happened, but it feels like it’s been a year.  I’m afraid to go out of the house anymore.”

“Well, we’ll take care of that for you.  I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner in Jasmine’s house.  I have a feeling it won’t be long and we’ll have this figured out.  In the meantime, feel free to come to the restaurant with the other ladies.  You’ll be safe there.”  I almost bit my tongue when I remembered Chris was lying on the couch with a headache and stitches.
  The last thing he needed was the Church Ladies coming to see us.

“Really?
  You’d like me to come back to the restaurant?” Addie asked.


Yes, but let’s not rush it,” I said quickly.  “You do need a couple of days to recover.  After all, you went through quite an ordeal.”

“Yes, I did.  I can’t tell my daughter about it, so I called and told her Jasmine
is sick and I’m staying here in order to take care of her.”

“Good thinking,” I said.

“Do you think there’s any chance the second man could still find me?”

“No,” I said, hopefully.  “I can’t think of any way this man could find you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-one

 

Before I could dig the hole I was in any deeper, Jasmine
thankfully took the phone from Addie so she could talk to me.

“Well, God bless her, have you seen Lila?  She had a makeover and I can’t wait to see her.”

“Yes, I saw Lila.  She came in and sang at the restaurant again last night.  You didn’t know that?”

“She mentioned she was going to see you and Chris last night, but she didn’t say she was going to sing.  I haven’t talked to her today.  I’ll be seeing her this evening though.  How does she look?”

“Wonderful,” I replied.  “She’s changed her hair color and she’s wearing a little makeup.  And she was dressed up.  She was really pretty when she got rid of the tennis shoes and all that grey.”

“I hope we did the right thing in talking her into the changes,” Jasmine said.  “I wouldn’t want her personality to change.  At least, not much.  I would like to see her come out of her shell though.  I pray about her, you know.”

“I think your prayers may have been answered.  She had a great time last night, and she even…”  I let my voice trail off.  It wasn’t my place to tell Jasmine about Lila meeting Nate.

“She even what, Dear?”

“Oh, nothing.  She just had a good time.  She can tell you about it when you see her.”

“Well, I know singing in a bar isn’t exactly the Christian thing to do, but it’s not like she’s doing something wrong.  And she really is enjoying singing. 
Of course, we’ve visited your cocktail lounge, and I didn’t see anyone getting drunk.  I think it actually might be good for her.  And she’ll be singing again at church this Sunday.”  Jasmine didn’t sound like she was being judgmental about the lounge as much as she was being cautious.

I explained to Jasmine that it was time to get ready for work, and we hung up.  I didn’t want to blab about Lila and Nate.  It really
wasn’t
my place.

Being Friday, I dressed up more than I had
during the beginning of the week.  This time I wore an ankle length darker green thirties style evening gown.  That era was big on feminine evening wear.  Dresses had become molded to the body and fell into a vertical drape, clinging subtly to the body.  Sexy was in. 

My
gown was a couture silk lace/tulle dress.  The bodice was a layer of very fine lace over a sleeveless dress, and the skirt consisted of a number of layers of the same fine lace, falling gracefully from about the bottom of my hips over each other and to the floor.  The back was quite low cut, which I believed was something relatively new in the styles of that time period.  I added some low-heeled silver vintage shoes I’d found at a local dress shop.  They’d been using them for a display, and I’d talked them into selling them to me.

Again, I wore my auburn hair in an up hair style.  I was still fiddling with a hair pin as I descended the stairs.

Hearing wolf whistles, I stopped and gazed down the stairs.  Chris and Mikey were smiling up at me.


Hey, boys,” I said in imitation of Mae West, “why don’t ya come up and see me some time?”

“Who’s mom trying to talk like?” Mikey asked, turning to Chris.

“An old time actress named Mae West.  You’d get a kick out of her, Ace.”  Chris never took his eyes off of me while he answered Mikey.

“Oh.  Was she as pretty as my mom?”

“No, Ace, she wasn’t.  No one can beat your mother.”

Chris had just made up for all the moaning and groaning without even knowing it.  I resolved to look around the house for a bell in case the need ever arose again.  I thought I might have one in with the Christmas decorations.

We drove Mikey over to Constance’s house and arrived at the restaurant ready to face whatever the night served up.  Chris said the throbbing had gone away, but he still had a mild headache.  He kept his hat on from the moment we left the house until we reached
Bogey Nights
.

Entering the kitchen, we found Phillip and Chef Luis waiting for us.  They wanted to know how
Chris was and, of course, they wanted to see the wound – shades of my son emanated from the two men.

I left them talking and walked to my office.  We’d left the dogs at home again because, and I couldn’t help it, I was afraid they might jump up and tear my dress.  The lace was so beautiful that I couldn’t have stood it if anything happened to it.  I sat down at the desk and worked on the books while Chris took care of setting things up for the evening.  Phyllis and Gloria both stuck their heads in to say hello, and I waved at them.
  George and Susan weren’t far behind.

Everything was going so smoothly.  We opened for business and we had a good crowd coming in that night.  Every table in the place had been reserved, which left a couple of tables in the lounge where late comers could
sit and eat.  Phyllis, Gloria, Susan and George would have their hands full.

When I was done with the books I headed for the lounge to ask if Lila was coming in again.  The regular singer was on stage, so I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her.  Chris
was at the desk greeting some patrons and I walked over to help.  He’d put his hat back on.  I’d suggested we put a bandage on his head, but he was a firm believer that fresh air would heal his head faster than a covered wound – never mind that his hat covered it.

“Oh, Mrs. Cross, I just love that dress,” Mrs. Beard said
, as I approached.  “Wherever did you find it?”

“Thank you,” I replied.  “Actually, it came from…”  I told her about a vintage dress shop I’d found in town and she
turned to her husband with a hopeful expression on her face.  He smiled at her and took her elbow, ready to follow Chris to their table.  I knew she’d probably visit the shop no later than the next day.  She was a sweet woman, and her husband indulged her excessively.  He knew a good thing when he saw it, and to him, she was it.

We were busy, but it was a good type of busy.  Things were still running smoothly, and after the past few days’ events, I counted my blessings.

I honestly thought we were going to get through the evening with no drama.  Silly me.

Chris and I were standing at the Reservation Desk talking when the phone rang.  Chris picked up the receiver, shaking his head.  “And I was worried about business falling off.”

I smiled at him.


Bogey Nights
,” he said, using his Bogey voice, “where the elite come to eat and dance all night long.”  That was something new.  I’d never heard him say that before.

I raised my eyebrows at him and he shrugged in return.

“Oh, hi, Addie.  Pamela’s right here.  Hold on a minute.”

He handed the receiver to me.

“Hi, Addie, what’s up?” I asked.

“I thought I’d better give you a call because the girls are up to it again,” she replied.

“What’s going on now?”

“Well, Lila came over
this afternoon and told us about last night.  By the way, what do you think about the gentleman she met?  Is he a nice man?”

“I don’t really know him,” I replied.  “He seems to be, and he’s a friend of our chef’s.  He’s also coming to work for us, so
we’ve had a couple of conversations with him.”

“Oh.”  Addie hesitated.

“Is that what you’re calling about?” I asked.

“Noooo.”  She dragged the word out, sounding hesitant to tell me whatever it was she had to say.

“Addie, is something wrong?”  She was beginning to worry me.

I could hear her take a deep breath.  “The girls drove over to Florence’s house.”

It was like pulling teeth.  “Okay, and is that a problem?  What’s going on?”

She took another breath.  “Lila told us about Chris being attacked last night.  We talked about it and decided that if someone was attacking Chris, then maybe something else was going to happen.”

I thought about it for a moment.  “You mean you think things are about to escalate?”

“That’s exactly the word Jasmine used
just before we prayed together.  Yes, that’s what we think.  So the girls drove over to Florence’s house to watch out for Victor.  They have a feeling tonight might be
the
night.”

“Addie, hold on a minute.  Let me tell Chris what’s going on.”  I pushed the Hold button and turned to Chris.

By the time I was done explaining, his eyes were mere slits in his face.  “What’s the matter with those women?  Don’t they have any sense?  How do they think they’re going to protect Victor if something happens?”  While he talked he was motioning Phyllis over to the desk.

“Should we drive over there?” I asked.

Phyllis approached us.  “Do you need something?” she asked.

“Yeah, can you and Gloria watch things while Pamela and I run an errand?  We might not be back before closing.”

“Sure,” she replied.  “And when are you going to change my title to Assistant Manager and give me a raise, boss?”

I could see by the look on her face that she was teasing him, but we had called on her
for help a number of times lately.  Maybe a raise wouldn’t be a bad idea.

I pushed the Talk button and Addie was back on the line.  “Addie,” I said, “don’t worry.  Chris and I are going over there and we’ll see what’s going on.  Being careless seems to be a prerequisite of joining you Church Ladies.”

“Beg pardon?” Addie said.

“Nothing,
sweetie, we’ll take care of things.  Don’t you worry.”

Chris and I left shortly after that.  I vowed to start keeping a spare set of cloth
ing in my office for these unexpected occasions.  If anything happened to my dress someone was going to be in deep doo doo, to coin one of my son’s phrases.

“Don’t those women have a lick of sense?” Chris asked.

“You already asked that,” I said.

“You never answered me.”

“Oh.   The main thing now is that we need to get over there in a hurry.  There’s no telling what kind of trouble the Church Ladies can get into, or stir up.”

We drove as quickly as traffic would allow, and thankfully traffic was relatively light.

When we neared Victor’s house, Chris slowed down so we could take a look around and try to figure out what was going on.  We could see Jasmine’s car parked in Florence’s driveway, but there were no lights on in the house.

Chris parked a few houses down and we walked toward Florence’s place.

The wind had begun to blow, suddenly and with gusto.  Glancing up I saw clouds overhead.  I looked down at my dress and sighed.  A floor length, fragile lace dress had been the wrong choice for this evening.

Wind, possible rain
, and a bunch of Church Ladies might be the demise of my lacey choice.

I turned toward Florence’s house and saw the blonde head of Jasmine Thorpe pop up from behind her car.  By this time Chris was standing next to me.  I put my hand on his arm and pointed.

“There’s Jasmine,” I said, quietly, moving as close to his ear as I could.  “I wonder where the others are.”

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