Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (247 page)

Bradley reached my side and tapped Jackson on the chest.

“Hey, man, I think maybe you’ve had too much to drink. Let me call you a cab.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. “And let go of Evie. I think you’re making her uncomfortable.”

Jackson released me. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” From the look on his face, I couldn’t tell if he gave a crap how I’d been feeling. He shot Bradley a nasty look. “And for your information, I don’t drink anything but iced tea.”

He was right about the tea. I had never seen him drink anything alcoholic, except at Nick’s funeral when he’d had a beer. But Bradley had a point. Jackson was acting like he was on something.

Jackson backed away from me slowly, his arms in the air as if in surrender.

“Thing is, Daphne, I’d be way more concerned about one of these characters harming you. You don’t have to be scared of me. I know the truth.” He winked. Seriously, the guy was starting to creep me out, big time.

“You know, Jackson, maybe you should find a different watering hole to hang out in,” Bradley said, moving in front of me protectively.

“I like it here. You just don’t like me here. By the way, how’s your dad, Brad? Oh and Candace, how about your little secret?”

Candace glared at him. “You’re crazy.”

“Ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Every single one of you has something to hide.” Then he looked right at me again. “Even you. It’s just a matter of time before it all comes out.”

I cringed. What the hell was this guy’s problem?

Bradley moved forward menacingly.

“Time for you to go, Jackson. You’re no longer welcome here.”

I half worried Jackson would beat the crap out of Bradley. His threatening demeanor the night George came in was loud and clear in my mind.

“No problem. I’ve got everything I need to put out a fascinating documentary.” Jackson slipped his laptop into an army-green backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He turned back, saluted me, and whistled his way out the door.

I was really getting tired of all the secrets and drama. In the silence following Jackson’s departure, I finished my drink. I pondered what he’d said about Mumbles, Roger, and Nick. And then there was Candace … and the snide remark about Bradley’s father. What did Jackson know that the rest of us didn’t?

“Good riddance,” Candace said. “Pay him no mind, Evie.” She waved a hand in front of her drink.

“Did you want to talk?”

I jumped, forgetting Bradley was still standing next to me.

“Sure. But where’s Becky? Who’ll tend the bar?” I said.

“No one’s seen her tonight,” Candace said.

“It’s okay,” Bradley said. “It’s not that crowded, and everyone seems to have what they need for now. Let’s sit over there.” He pointed to the corner booth where Jackson always sat. “One of us can always jump up if need be.”

“Okay.” I poured myself a glass of water and followed Bradley.

“What a day,” he said after plopping down on the bench seat.

“You okay?” I asked. He looked older and strained. He was clearly upset.

“It’s my dad. He slipped into a coma today, and they don’t expect him to come out of it.”

“Oh no! I’m so sorry.” I reached out to touch his hand, but then pulled back. “You said he’s in a retirement home?”

“Yes. Platinum Partners. It’s where the wealthy and wonderful go when they want the best of the best after retirement. Place is amazing and he’s loved it for the past few years. But I think losing Nick has taken it out of him. I can’t get a hold of my wife either to tell her. I left her a message on her cell. But when she has her ‘girls’ nights out, they go to the spa and out for drinks and, well, she’ll call I’m sure once she gets the message.” He sighed.

“She’ll call. I’m sure of it. But you can talk to me for now if you want. I am terribly sorry about your dad. And it does sounds like Nick was a second son to him.”

Bradley nodded, frowning. “Exactly. I have no idea what that ass Jackson was talking about.”

I pursed my lips in distaste. “Yeah, Jackson obviously has some issues.” I glanced around the room, making sure no one needed anything. Mumbles seemed to be slumping slowly onto the bar but otherwise, everything was in order.

“Did it bother you at all? That Nick and your dad were so close?”

He sat back and studied me for a second. “You
are
curious. You still looking into who might have killed him?”

I suddenly felt awkward. Truth be told, I was prying into things that were clearly not any of my business. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. And yes, I can’t seem to get it out of my mind.”

He nodded. “It’s okay. Honestly, it’s refreshing to meet someone who really seems to care about others and wants to know what’s going on.” He smiled wryly. “You know, when I was younger, I was a real screwup. I did stupid things—partied too much, crashed cars, wound up in the tabloids a lot. I really hurt my dad, and I regret it every day. I can’t blame him for feeling about Nick the way he did, the way he does. Nick was a good guy. He was pretty much on the straight and narrow. I mean he partied some like all of us, but he tried real hard to maintain himself and stay in line. I suppose I was bothered on some level, but with age comes maturity, and as I got off drugs and the party scene, I made amends with my dad. I also started cultivating a relationship with Nick because I owed him.”

“Why is that?”

Bradley gazed over my shoulder, obviously lost in his memories.

“Because I had been an ass to him. When Roger Hawks died at my dad’s place, I kind of stirred the pot with the tabloids, hinting maybe Nick was involved. Truthfully, there was no way I could have known if he was or wasn’t. I was in Paris with some actress when Roger drowned. But my green-eyed monster got the best of me and caused Nick some problems. I think all that attention is why he became so reclusive and got out of show business altogether. My dad tried to talk him into making a comeback, but Nick refused.”

I felt sad for Nick and wished things had happened differently for him. How hard it must have been to give up his career like that.

“Do you think Roger Hawks’s death was an accident, or do you think he was pushed?”

“There has always been a lot of speculation about that night. But as for me … well, I really believe it was an accident. Too much drinking. Roger was a known party animal, and he didn’t always use his best judgment.” He shook his head and chuckled softly. “Then again, none of us did back then.” Bradley raised his arms into a broad stretch. “Why all the interest in Roger?”

I shrugged. “Jackson may be a jerk, but he hit the nail on the head when he said the people here have a lot of secrets. I guess it got me to thinking, maybe the mysteries surrounding Roger’s death might have had something to do with Nick’s murder.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Who do you think might have killed Nick, then?” I asked.

He sighed. “I don’t know. He did have some issues with gambling and borrowing money. And I heard he owed the wrong kind people a lot of cash. What gets me is how often my dad and I offered to give him a loan. Pride or foolishness kept him from accepting it. I keep wondering if I should have pushed Nick harder to accept our help.” He rubbed his eyes again, clearly weary of the topic. “Then there’s George Hernandez. What a hothead. I have no idea where he fits into the puzzle.”

“Do you think Nick stole his recipe?”

Bradley laughed. “Does it matter if he did? Come on! Who would kill someone over a stolen fish taco recipe? As over the top as George seems, I can’t imagine he’d be so stupid.”

“Well, you know, there are a lot of idiots out there who have killed people for a lot less than that.”

“I suppose,” he said, shaking his head. He stood and stretched again, obviously ready to move on.

“Hey, thanks for talking with me, Bradley. And thanks for making Jackson leave. He kind of scares me.” I shuddered, suddenly recalling my brush with death earlier in the day.

“Sure thing. Jackson seems to have some anger management issues. I wonder how closely the police have looked into him.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Anyway, I suppose in a day or two, Becky’s son will be here to take over and things will change. If I can help you in any way, you know, maybe get a gig somewhere else … just let me know. I’ve got a few contacts here and there.” He grinned widely, suddenly looking about ten years younger and very handsome.

“Wow, thanks! That would be nice.”

“Hey, why don’t I bartend tonight and you go play a set? It’s not too crowded.”

“Really? Thanks!” Bradley was easily turning out to be one of my favorite people at the bar.

“No problem.”

I went to the kitchen and grabbed my guitar. I started setting up and as I sat down, Simone, aka Stacy, sauntered in with a red wig, ginormous sunglasses (seriously, what was the fascination with sunglasses at night?), knee-high leg warmers, a mini skirt, and a striped turtleneck. Subtle. She dropped into a nearby booth and scooted over to make room for Dwight. She’d obviously gotten over being mad at him. Simone lifted up her sunglasses and winked at me. I smiled wanly. It felt a bit odd to have her here listening to me, but I was glad she’d come all the same.

I started to play “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” and was just starting to mellow out, when I noticed a man who looked identical to Pierre the animal trainer in the back near the exit. Next to him stood a woman, also dressed in black. She had long pale hair and what appeared to be emerald green contact lenses … because there’s no way anyone had eyes that color in real life. The Pierre-clone’s mouth turned up in a small, cryptic smile. I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them, he and the woman were gone.

What. The. Hell?

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

IN SPITE OF THE FACT that I might very well be losing my mind, by the third song of my set, I was starting to get into the groove. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. When I glanced at Simone while singing one of Adele’s latest, she was visibly swaying to the music. I watched as she ordered another drink for herself and Dwight. A few minutes later, in the middle of my acoustic version of a La Roux song, she got up and grabbed Dwight’s hand and they started dirty dancing. I knew things were going to go south pretty quickly. All it took was for Simone to completely lose what little inhibition she had and that wig would come off and her secret would be out. Nick’s would turn into a madhouse of paparazzi, and fans would swarm. Not that this was a bad thing for the bar, of course, but it wouldn’t go over well for Simone … or me.

I decided it was time to take a break and get them both back into their seats.

Simone grinned broadly at me and gave me a hug. “Hey bestie, you are actually halfway decent!” She glanced at Dwight. “Isn’t she?”

Dwight smiled. “Yeah, not bad, Evie.”

The three of us sat down, and Simone leaned towards me excitedly. “I think I might really be able to help you. I’m going to call my producer tomorrow.” She grabbed my hand and clasped it firmly in hers, her expression more sober. “Are you doing better? After that bullshit from earlier today?”

“Yeah, I’m okay now. Speaking of, I could have sworn I saw that Pierre guy in here with some blonde woman.” I turned around and pointed to the back of the room. “Over there, near the back exit.”

Simone peered sharply over my shoulder. “No. If I had, I would have seriously kicked his ass. I about fired Dwight after that stunt today. I mean, he needs to be more careful about who he hires for my videos. I don’t think that guy is a good person. Him or his cat.”

“I am sorry, and you both know I would never bring in anyone who I thought would harm you,” Dwight said.

Simone waved her hand in his face. “Whatever. You’re lucky I like you.” She winked at him.

I was a little uneasy at her open flirting with Dwight. I nodded, noticing Bradley scrambling to fill an order. “Hey, I probably should get back behind the bar. Thanks for coming … it really meant a lot to me.”

“I had fun! And I can see why you like it here. It’s cave-like and kind of seedy, but cool. This place has promise. Maybe I should buy it and turn it into something really special. Who owns it now?”

I chewed my lip. “I’m not really sure. Supposedly, Nick had a long lost son and he left this place to him. But I have yet to meet him.”

I glanced back to the bar where Bradley seemed a bit overwhelmed. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure he knew anything about bartending.

“When you find out, let me know,” Simone said. “I’d be interested.”

“Sure.” I had no idea what Simone would do with a bar, but who was I to judge? “Look, I gotta run.” I leaned over and gave her a quick hug.

“Okay chickadee, we’re off. Pitbull invited us to his party tonight.” She paused for a minute, “Hey, why don’t you come with?”

“I can’t. I need to work. You guys go have fun and tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“All right. Later!” She turned and walked out the door, Dwight following like a lost puppy. Poor guy had it bad.

Simone’s words about me being pretty good and talking to her producer played over and over in my mind. How cool would that be?