When Bobbie Sang the Blues (13 page)

“I’ll talk to her.” She smiled. “Bye, J.T.”

She headed back to her car to replace the hose on the gas pump, then went inside to pay. When she heard J.T.’s truck roar off, the pleasant expression disappeared from her face. Jack had lied
to her. Even worse, he had lied to the police by saying he went straight home. How could he possibly think no one in that bar would admit he was there when questioned?

Everyone around Summer Breeze knew Jack Watson, and rarely was he seen in a bar. What, she wondered, had happened after J.T. left?

A
s soon as Christy drove into Miz B’s lot, she saw Jack’s black SUV parked beside Bobbies red truck. Too furious to be reasonable now, she charged into the dining room and spotted the two of them huddled together like lovebirds. Both looked up with wide, surprised smiles as she approached the table.

“Oh, Christy, I have the best news,” Bobbie began, excitement rising in her voice. “We’ve found the perfect location for my shop. I should have waited for you to see it, but I was afraid someone else might grab it.”

Jack studied Christy’s face, reading the signals, but he tried to keep up a cheerful countenance. “It’s that shop that was just vacated last week—one of those fancy boutiques that didn’t make it after tourist season.”

“There’s a large storage area in the back where I can rebuild and refinish furniture.” Bobbie spoke quickly, obviously thrilled about the shop. “The front is a bit small, but I can…” She stopped, suddenly aware Christy wasn’t paying attention. “Honey, is something wrong?”

Christy stared at Jack. “I just spoke with J.T. down at the service
station. He looked rotten, and when I pressed him as to why, he admitted he and Cora Lee broke up last night.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Bobbie said, looking from Christy to Jack.

“Jack, you did go back to that bar Monday night, and you took J.T. with you!”

Jack snarled. “Aw, I didn’t force him to go. Fact is, he kinda liked the idea, no matter what he let on to Cora Lee.”

Christy glanced around the restaurant, then lowered her voice. “You lied about going straight home Monday night.”

“Jack,” Bobbie said, putting a hand on his arm. “What happened?”

Jack’s face darkened. He heaved a sigh and lowered his gaze. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Except get J. T. in a heap of trouble
, Christy wanted to say. “Didn’t you know someone would see you there?” she asked. “Don’t you think that hotshot detective will question every person in the bar that night? Jack, he won’t believe you about anything else now!”

“Oh dear,” Bobbie moaned, her blue eyes clouding with worry.

“It’s beginning to sound like you’re the one who doesn’t believe me,” he said, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “I stayed there for half an hour, back in the shadows. When Bodine and his airhead girlfriend left, him drunk as a baboon, they never saw me. I knew, by then, he was too far gone to do any harm. Matter of fact, she drove them back to the motel. When I passed the Starlight, the truck was parked there. I have no idea what happened after that.”

“So, see,” Bobbie said, looking at Christy, “he was just trying to help. And this proves Eddie went back to the motel.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t prove anything once the authorities begin to doubt what Jack tells them.” Christy sighed. “Maybe I’m overreacting. I don’t know. I think I’ll go home and cool off.”

She got up and left: the booth without a good-bye, as she was confused and angry and wanted to leave before she said something she would later regret. Maybe Bobbie could talk Jack into recanting the statement he’d made earlier. But she wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do either. By lying to everyone, thinking he was protecting Bobbie, Jack had just dug a deeper hole for himself.

As she drove home, Christy spotted Seth’s red El Camino in front of the video rental store. Atticus dominated the front seat, keeping watch. She parked in the first vacant space at the curb and hopped out of the car. Seth ambled out of the store and saw her hurrying in his direction.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Man, you get right to it every time. What’s up?”

“Got a minute?”

“Do I look like I’m in a hurry?” He grinned. “Have you had lunch?”

She wasn’t hungry, but at least they could sit down and talk. “No. Where do you want to go?”

“On the rare occasions that I’m not spending my money on a
girl, I dine on bologna or peanut butter and jelly. But for you, I’ll squeeze my budget. How about a hamburger?” He nodded toward the cafe across the street.

“Fine. I might even treat you so you don’t have to squeeze your budget.” She reached through the open window of Seth’s car to scratch Atticus behind his long ears. “Hey, sweetie. Is this guy treating you right?”

Atticus’s warm tongue swiped her arm.

“I know. You’re the best-loved guy in town.”

Seth put the videos in the car and looked at Atticus. “You look comfortable, so stay put and I’ll bring you a treat.”

An enthusiastic bark followed them as they crossed the street.

Just walking beside Seth lifted Christy’s spirits. She cast a sidelong glance at him as he held open the door for her. His T-shirt advertised a bar in Australia, and his jeans were as worn as ever, but his brown hair gleamed, and clean soap smells wafted to her.
I hadn’t noticed how handsome he’s become
, she thought. She could see why there was a different girl every night.

They entered the cafe, and she led the way to a booth in the back. The lunch crowd had dispersed, and now only a half-dozen diners lingered.

“Hey, Seth and Christy.” Mrs. Smitherman, slim and fifty-something, spread menus before them. “Seth, my Todd in Atlanta always asks about you when he calls home.”

Seth grinned up at her. “How’s my old buddy?”

“Doing great. Graduates from Georgia Tech this month. He already has a job with an important company in Atlanta.”

Christy watched Seth as he tried to keep the smile in place, but his eyes drifted down to the menu and back. “Super! Todd was always at the top of the class.”

“What about you? Heard you’d been in Australia.”

“I worked over there for a while.” He sat up straighter in the booth. “I’m going back to Florida State next semester, working toward a degree in marine science.”

“That’s good to hear.” Her eyes moved to Christy. “And how’s our celebrity writer? We’re all so proud of you.”

“Thank you. I’m fine, but we’re starved.” She glanced back at Seth. Most of their lives, people had raved over cute little Christy and stared at shy Seth. It made Christy uncomfortable when she got compliments and Seth was bypassed or merely glanced at curiously.

“A hamburger all the way for me,” Seth said. “And”—he looked at Christy, teasing her with his pause—“a glass of milk.”

Christy’s lips twitched as she studied the menu. Although she tried to resurrect an appetite, it was hopeless. “Just a cup of your famous clam chowder and iced tea.”

As Mrs. Smitherman hurried off, Seth leaned forward. “Petite, precocious Christy.” This time he smiled, and the old sarcasm disappeared.

“Jack lied about going straight home Monday night,” she said, lowering her voice. “After he dropped Bobbie off, he went to the bar where Bodine and his girlfriend were.”

Seth’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. He met up with J.T. outside the bar, asked him to join him, and now Cora Lee is furious and has broken up with J.T.”

“What? Who?”

She shook her head. “The important thing is that Jack lied to the police, and they’re going to find out he followed Bodine there. This is going to damage his credibility.”

Mrs. Smitherman returned with their drinks and silverware.

“Thank you,” Christy said.

“So what’d he find out when he stalked Bodine?” Seth asked once Mrs. Smitherman was gone.

“Just that he got more drunk and left with Roseann. He watched them get in the truck and drive across to the Starlight Motel. That agrees with Roseann’s story.”

“Then what? Did he and J.T. go over and call him out?”

“No. He says he went home.”

“Yeah, well, he may have to prove that,” Seth said. He took a big gulp of milk.

For the first time all day, Christy laughed. “You look like a commercial featuring the milk mustache.”

He touched a napkin to his mouth. “I’m kind of crude.”

“Yeah, you are. But it’s good to have my adventurous Seth home.”

She tilted her head to study him. “You’re a budding Russell Crowe.”

Seth laughed. “I don’t think so, but thank you.”

Their food arrived, and Seth dug in. Christy lifted her soup spoon and dipped it into the chowder. “I’ve got a date with Dan tonight,” she said lightly.

Seth gave her a thumbs-up as his jaws worked the hamburger.

When Christy got home, she took an aspirin and went to her bedroom, hoping for a nap to settle her down before her date with Dan. Sleep eluded her, though, as she kept trying to piece together all she had learned today. Eventually she gave up and climbed out of bed.

By six thirty, she had showered and was slathering lotion on her skin when she heard Bobbie’s truck. Since Dan was due to pick her up soon, she wanted to avoid revisiting the conversation at Miz B’s and the tide of emotions from the afternoon.

She turned on her blow-dryer and began to style her damp hair with a round brush, smoothing it into loose waves around her shoulders. She hoped the noise would keep Bobbie from knocking on her door. Apparently, it did.

When Christy finished with her hair and turned off the dryer, she listened. She could hear noise from the kitchen—a cabinet door slamming, the creak of the refrigerator door. Then she thought she heard Bobbie’s voice in conversation. Christy walked around the bedside table and noted the phone line was lit up.

Refusing to eavesdrop, she glanced at the clock, relieved to see that time was working in her favor. She still had half an hour before Dan would pick her up.

She opened her closet door and pulled down the new outfit she had bought during her latest shopping excursion: a green floral skirt with a white camisole and sheer cardigan. As a final touch, she dabbed on the perfume Dan had given her for her birthday.

She did a once-over in the dresser mirror. Looking at her reflection, she thought of Bobbie. She had the same round blue eyes, only her aunt’s eyes were larger. The natural Norwegian blond in her genetics had been passed on to her in gold streaks around the sides of her face and across her bangs, which brightened her countenance. Otherwise, her hair was light brown.

Now that Christy had spent time with Bobbie, she realized she resembled Bobbie more than Beth. Maybe her natural sense of adventure—her gypsy nature, she called it—totally foreign to her mother, had come from her aunt.

As she hooked gold earrings in her ears and snapped on a gold bracelet, she heard the doorbell ring.
Perfect timing
, she thought, hurrying out of her bedroom, a small clutch tucked under her arm.

Bobbie greeted Dan at the door, staring with admiration into his handsome face.

“Hi, Dan,” Christy called as she entered the room.

Both turned to look at her, and Bobbie gasped with approval. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” she said, looking back at Dan.

“I agree.” His eyes took in every detail as Christy approached.

Christy turned to her aunt. “Are you staying home tonight?”

“I’m going to be busy with plans,” Bobbie said, waving an arm toward the dining table covered in tablets and papers. “I’m so excited about my shop,” she added, her eyes glowing. She didn’t seem at all angry about Christy’s confrontation with Jack.

“Sounds wonderful,” Christy replied. “We won’t be late,” she said, looking at Dan.