Authors: Unknown
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 screw up. 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 Hawk’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 half-way 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.”
“Alright. 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?
I walked back behind the bar and began pouring drinks. Not too long after, Bradley said he needed to head home, something about his dog having separation anxiety since his wife was away. He even mentioned, in all seriousness, that they had looked into hiring a dog psychologist. Oh my. I was growing to love LA, but some of the comments I’d heard in Texas about flakey, whacky Californians had a grain of truth to them.
As I was mixing Tequila Sunrises for a couple of coeds, I noticed Mumbles watching me. I think he wanted to say something, and I moved down the bar to talk to him. Candace had vacated her seat and was likely in the restroom.
Before I reached Mumbles, however, Becky strolled in. She wasn’t alone. I caught my breath as I locked eyes with the man at her side. As amazingly beautiful as Lucas was, the man with Becky was a serious rival as far as eye candy goes. Unlike Lucas, this guy didn’t glow or glide or seem on the verge of fading away. He was rugged, strikingly handsome, and very human. I felt my heartbeat speed up as I took him in. Light eyes (possibly blue but hard to tell from a distance), glossy brown hair, high cheekbones, and solidly built without looking overly bulky. Yum.
Becky and the young man reached the bar together.
“Evie, hi. This is my son, Joshua.”
I wiped both hands on my jeans and reached across to shake his. His grasp was warm and firm, confident. In my moment of captivation, I’d broken my rule and caught a flash of Joshua knocking another man out hard in what looked to be a kitchen. Then I saw him seated in the back of a police car. I already knew too much.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, in a deep, smooth voice. His eyes lightened a bit at my touch, and I knew whatever I’d seen in the vision had been lifted off him some.
“And you! Your mom said you work for the Red Cross in Africa. How was the flight home?” I found myself staring a little too long at his mouth. Seriously, what was wrong with me? I also found myself wondering about the vision.
Joshua nodded, smiling. “Yes, I was in Bangassou for the past few months inoculating women and children. The flight was long but,” he glanced over at his mom affectionately, “I’m glad to be back home again.” Becky reached over and hugged him.
I studied him for a few seconds, trying hard to spot Nick in his features. I wondered what Becky had told him about the bar.
“So, I guess this place is yours now?”
Joshua nodded. “That’s what my mom tells me.”
I decided against any mention of Nick. I had no idea what Becky had said and, frankly, it wasn’t my place. Becky patted Joshua on his broad chest.
“Honey, I need to speak with Evie for a sec. Why don’t you take a peek in the kitchen? I know how much you love to cook. Maybe we can turn this place into the restaurant of your dreams.”
“Sure, Mom.” He tossed a questioning glance at me and then walked towards the kitchen. We both watched him leave. I hoped my thoughts about how nice he looked from the back weren’t obvious to Becky. As soon as he closed the doors behind him, Becky grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side. I was happy I’d chosen a long sleeved blouse.
“Listen, I know you are kind of, uh, how do I say this . . . you aren’t exactly sophisticated.”
What the—?
“Jeez, Becky. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” Seriously, did everyone here think I was some sort of backwoods redneck?
Becky grimaced apologetically, “I’m sorry. It’s just . . .” She chewed on her lip for a moment. “Well, sometimes you say things . . . speak out of turn.”
“Like asking him about being the owner of the bar?” If she hadn’t wanted people asking awkward questions, perhaps she should have told him the whole story
before
bringing him to Nick’s. But then again, what did a hick like me know?
“It’s complicated. See, Joshua loves his work overseas. Coming home to all this has been—well, it’s quite a change. And I would appreciate if you don’t say anything about Nick.”
I waited a few seconds as my unsophisticated brain processed this information. Then I narrowed my eyes.
“Wait a minute, you mean you haven’t told Joshua Nick was his father?” She looked away and didn’t answer. “So, what exactly
did
you tell him, Becky?”
“None of your business,” she spat. “Stay away from my son and keep your mouth shut. In fact, I think you should start looking for another gig.” My cheeks flushed and I felt myself becoming angry. I was suddenly gaining a deeper appreciation of Candace’s dislike of Becky.
Luckily Joshua reappeared and overheard some of his mother’s tirade. “Wait a sec’, Mom. Didn’t you tell me what a fantastic singer and musician she is? Now you’re asking her to leave?”
Becky turned to him, all smiles and innocence. She patted Joshua on the arm. “No, no, honey, it’s just that she’s so busy with her other job. I thought maybe it was getting to be too much for her.”
He turned to me, one brow arched sexily. “Is it too much for you?”
I smiled and tilted my head slightly to the side. I’d learned a few tricks from Simone. “No. I’m good. I love singing here and helping out.”
Joshua grinned broadly, his white teeth shining brightly against his tan skin. “Good! Grab your guitar and play. Something tells me I’m going to like you singing here.”
I looked pointedly at Becky, who frowned, and I went to grab my guitar. Becky had another thing coming if she thought she could intimidate me so easily. She’d also shown me a side of herself I had only glimpsed once before. I could not help wondering which was the real Becky.