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Authors: T. Lynn Ocean

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Security Specialist - North Carolina

T. Lynn Ocean - Jersey Barnes 03 - Southern Peril (6 page)

BOOK: T. Lynn Ocean - Jersey Barnes 03 - Southern Peril
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“I can always say you’ve stepped out,” Deanna continued. She’d grown accustomed to the new owner’s solitary tendencies. “Although they’ve wanted to meet you ever since you took over the restaurant. After all, you’re Garland’s
son.
You’re a local celebrity just by association. And your dad was really good friends with them. Your mom was, too.”

“Fine, I’ll stop by their table.”

Morgan held up the little tube of miracle cream next to the fluorescent lighting to read the directions. He didn’t want any customers—especially plastic surgeons—to see him at his worst.

“Here, let me do it.” Deanna squirted the cream onto a finger and, with the tip of her tongue stuck out, applied a dab beneath each of Morgan’s eyes. “There! Better already.”

He headed for the dining room, wishing he had a tiny bit of her enthusiasm so he’d be better in social situations.

“You’re welcome,” Deanna said under her breath, and went to collect a waiting food order. A tingle of excitement had coursed through her body during the brief moment of physical nearness to her boss. But he’d apparently felt nothing. He hadn’t even bothered to thank her.

Spine straight and forcing a smile, Morgan caught the group of doctors as they were standing to leave the Green Table. Stepping up to the alcove, he felt as though he’d entered an alternate universe. It was an odd sensation. The elegant Green Table and its surrounding valuable artwork radiated an appreciable energy. But the table also held a secret, known only to him. Morgan felt powerful and important, like a
stealthy undercover agent. Even though he would never spy on someone, the mere knowledge that
he could
gave him confidence.

He held out a hand to the man on his left. “I’m Morgan.”

The man gripped his palm as though they were comrades, and the shake was more side to side than up and down. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Dr. Haines”—he indicated the man next to him—“this is Dr. Rosch and Dr. Pratt. Please call us Leo, Jonathan, and Michael. Jonathan specializes in psychiatry, and Michael and I specialize in cosmetic procedures.”

Morgan voiced something about it being nice to meet the men.

Leo stepped forward and palmed Morgan’s shoulder. “You don’t know how devastated we were to learn of your father’s passing. He was a great man. A great friend. And I must say, you have Garland’s eyes. Now I know why he was always bragging on you.”

Garland had bragged on him? That was news. Morgan tried to smile.

Michael spoke up. “It does offer some consolation to see you taking up where Garland left off.”

“Absolutely,” said Jonathan the shrink, the word coming out a bit slurred. “Our practice is a few miles down the road, and we’ve been dining at Garland’s place for years and years. We’ve come to think of him as family.”

“Which means that you are family, too,” Leo said. “Anything you ever need, anytime, you let us know.”

“Thanks, I will,” Morgan managed to say, even though they danced around his mother’s death as though it were insignificant, the bastards. They hadn’t bothered to mention Rosemary. Just because she’d passed almost a year ago didn’t mean the pain wasn’t still fresh to him.

The Divine Image Group threw out a few more pleasantries, but their voices blended into a single lump in Morgan’s ears. He nod
ded and smiled and endured the social assault as he ushered them out Argo’s front door with a reminder to drive safely.

He continued holding the door for an arriving couple, and when he realized who they were, he nearly stumbled into them. A wave of vertigo rolled through his brain.

“Morgan!” Maria acted delighted to see him, as though he were an old friend instead of a dumped ex-boyfriend. “I’m so glad you’re here tonight. Remember Mark, my old boss? He flew in for a conference and has offered to drive me back to Dallas so I won’t be on the road by myself. But he refused to go without first eating at the finest restaurant in Wilmington.”

Her former boss was a married man with kids. And now he was playing chauffeur for an ex-employee? Morgan’s smile froze as he fought to stay upright. His hand tightened around the door handle. Mark found Morgan’s other hand and shook it.

“Great to see you again, and glad to hear from Maria that your restaurant is doing so well.” Mark waited for Maria to move inside before following. “I’m really looking forward to dinner tonight, let me tell you.”

The hostess determined that the Greer party was early for their reservation, but she could seat them shortly. They agreed to have a cocktail in the bar. Mark Greer, Morgan remembered. He’d met Maria’s employer on a few occasions, at company functions. The man was a terrific boss, Maria told Morgan the day she’d given notice that she was quitting to move east with her fiancé. Mark gave Maria severance pay and her upcoming holiday bonus. Most employers would have bade Maria farewell and offered to serve as a reference. Mark Greer had given her extra money. And now he’d flown fifteen hundred miles to retrieve her.

Morgan watched them settle in at a cozy bar table, Mark tending to her comfort before finding his own chair. Most people wore
upscale casual attire to Argo’s, but Mark and Maria had decked out for the occasion. She’d worn her hair up. Long earrings dangled from her lobes and glittered every time the light caught them just right. Her lips were glossy red. He loved that shade of lipstick on Maria and wondered if she’d worn it for his benefit or Mark’s. In a tailored suit, colorful tip of an artfully folded silk handkerchief sticking out of the breast pocket, Mark leaned back and smiled at his date. She returned the smile. They sure were showing a lot of teeth to each other, Morgan thought.

“Put them at the Green Table,” he told the hostess.

“Josh Brown is coming, and he always sits at—”

“Just do it,” Morgan growled, and stalked off.

“Fine,” she mouthed to his back, wondering what had gotten into the new owner. He was more edgy than usual.

 

Repulsed
at what he was about to do, Morgan locked himself in the private office, inserted the earbud, and fiddled with dials on the blue box until he could hear activity in the dining room. The audio came through so clearly, he envisioned exactly what tasks the bus-boy did as he cleared and reset the Green Table. Five minutes later, Deanna seated Maria and her former boss. Morgan heard the click of a lighter when Deanna lit the five fresh tea candles in the table’s centerpiece. Recognizing that her customers were new to Argo’s, she told them about the artwork surrounding the Green Table.

“You were right, Maria,” Morgan heard Mark say. “This place is impressive.”

“And romantic! Morgan put us at the best table in the house. I thought it might be weird to eat here, but I guess he’s forgiven me.”

Morgan shut his eyes tight. Now his employee would want to know who Maria was. And what he’d supposedly forgiven her for.

Deanna took drink orders, and then they were alone. The three of them: Maria and Mark and Morgan. He could see them on the monitor, from the overhead dining room camera. It was a wide shot, and although their features weren’t clear, their body language was. Two heads, leaning toward each other. Maria’s elbow on the table, her fingers playing with the stem of a water glass. The table’s unique kidney-shaped design allowed for a couple to sit next to each other, and these two had positioned themselves as lovers would. Definitely not a simple employer-employee relationship. Mark reached for Maria’s hand, the one that had previously held an engagement ring. Morgan’s chair lost its legs, and the video monitor seemed to move. Nauseated, he yanked out the earbud and covered it with a stack of invoices. He didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want to learn how little he’d meant to Maria.

But he had to know. Rocking to ease the pandemonium in his stomach, Morgan twisted the earbud back into place.

“—doesn’t matter now,” came the man’s voice. “She knows I want a divorce. I’ve already hired an attorney. We can be together and as soon as the divorce is final.”

“No more sneaking around?” Maria said.

“Never again. I told her that we can do the divorce the easy way or the hard way. Easy is that she contests nothing and gets a very generous settlement. Plus the kids get to keep me in their life. They’ll spend some weekends and holidays with me. With us.”

Deanna arrived with a bottle of wine, and the table went silent while she opened it. Mark declined the customary tasting. Deanna filled two glasses and placed a small tray of bread and cheese in front of them. As soon as she’d gone, Mark continued.

“My wife is a smart woman. She chose the easy divorce. Which means that you and I can openly be together starting, well, right now.”

The dark dot on the monitor that was Maria’s head tilted back
when she drank her wine. Morgan shut his eyelids tight so he wouldn’t have a visual. Listening was all the input he could handle.

“Where will we live?”

That was his Maria, Morgan thought. Always practical.

“I’ve found a great condo and put an offer on it. You’re going to love it. We can move in as soon as the deal closes in two weeks. Until then, I’ll stay where I am, but we’ll get you a motel room at one of those residence-type places.”

Maria’s voice, always soft and seductive when she was happy, drew Morgan into its depth like a cushy down comforter on a freshly made bed. He envisioned her mouth, glossy red lips, moving the way they did with a slight upturn at the corners, and he felt as though she were mere inches away. He fantasized that her velvety words were meant for him. “You are so brilliant,” he heard Maria say, “and decisive. That’s what I love about you. You want something and then you figure out how to make it happen.”

He was brilliant. He was loved.
He
was the recipient of her compliments. Just one more time, for a few seconds, anyway, as long as Morgan could hold on to the fantasy.

“You flatter me too much,” Mark said. Morgan wished the man would shut up.

Deanna arrived to take their food orders. Morgan opened his eyes, stared at the monitor. Saw the happy couple. Heard him order two of the seafood specials. Watched Deanna refill Maria’s wineglass. Heard Maria thank the server. Watched Deanna retreat as Maria and Mark made a toast.

“To us,” Mark said, “and our future.”

Their words faded in and out as ripples of vertigo overtook Morgan. He sat perfectly still in his chair with both feet planted firmly on the floor, but still the office swayed around him.

“Well, I’m going to have to get a job, even so,” Maria said.

“You’ll work for me again.”

“What will people think?”

Mark laughed, a confident, short laugh. “I own the damn company and don’t really care what people think. Besides, once we’re married, it will be your company, too.”

Her sharp intake of breath and subsequent squeal came through the earbud like an ice pick. Muscles paralyzed, brain throbbing, Morgan endured the remainder of their meal from the confines of his small office. He discovered that Deanna was a professional and polite server and overheard that she was attending classes to earn a master’s degree in education. He learned that Maria had been dating her boss, on and off, the entire time she’d been with him. Almost a year longer, in fact. He found out that it took Maria quitting her job and moving away to bring Mark to his senses and that Mark was apologetic about the way he’d treated Maria in the past. Morgan found out that his ex had always wanted to vacation in Maui, a factoid she’d never shared with him. He learned of a special chair, presumably one in Mark’s office, that—according to Maria—was perfect for making love while sitting on his lap. She was eagerly looking forward to another
business
meeting, in fact, and planned to wear a dress without panty hose for the occasion.

The partially digested contents in Morgan’s stomach rolled up his throat, and he heaved into a small trash can.

“By the way, I forgot to ask,” Mark said. “How did your boyfriend take it when you told him you were breaking off the engagement? He seemed cordial enough to see you tonight.”

“Oh, he’s fine with it. His whole life is this restaurant, anyway. It’s like he’s obsessed with proving something to his dead father. And he wasn’t even tight with the man. It’s weird.”

“Well, he’s a very good-looking guy. I’d be beside myself with jealousy if you were still with him.” Mark leaned forward, as though he weren’t already close enough. “Anyway, I’m really glad that he didn’t make things difficult for you, Maria.”

“I gave him back the engagement ring and told him it was better to break it off now rather than later. He was cool with that.”

Morgan felt like crying, the kind of let-it-all-out wail that a child in pain might give after falling onto a concrete sidewalk. Instead, he could only laugh as he thought of his MasterCard bill. Maria hadn’t given the ring back, and he was still paying for the diamond she planned to wear around her neck. In a drop. To remember him by.

 

 

SEVEN

 

 

 

The Block is
a laid-back joint that falls somewhere between “local dive with great food” and “happening happy hour spot.” My two favorite things about the old converted warehouse are the river view and the wide-open feel. I was behind the bar, filling ice bins and restocking beer. I did it to be helpful, but on a selfish level, the chores made me feel closer to Ox, since his management style often puts him behind the bar. It might have been wishful thinking, but I detected the warm and fresh hint of his aftershave lingering around the cash register.

It didn’t help that every other customer coming in wanted to know where Ox and Lindsey were. They’d gotten used to Lindsey’s enthusiastic fist-bump greetings and Ox’s good-natured chatter. The Block, I’d heard several regulars say, was like a second home to them. If I measured such things, I’d probably find the overall decibel level in my pub to be lower than usual.

“The kitchen didn’t do a special for tonight,” Ruby said. “Not
that it really matters. People are going to ask for what they want anyway, I suppose.”

“Anything wrong?” I asked her.

“I just told you. There’s no special to tell people about.”

BOOK: T. Lynn Ocean - Jersey Barnes 03 - Southern Peril
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