“Something wrong, honey?” Betty asked.
“No.” Nothing. Only that he’d never get this job done now, not with his mother here telling everyone everything. Only that he’d be lucky not to get fired. Only the end of his chance to make partner. He really loved his mother, but why now? Why here? Why didn’t Betty serve whiskey?
Betty took his arm and led him to a booth. In a minute she hurried back with a cup of coffee. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
He looked up and saw curiosity practically leaping off her in waves. “Thanks, Betty,” he said and raised the coffee cup. The first gulp almost knocked his head off. “Wha—” he gasped.
“You looked like you needed a little boost.” Betty smiled. “My cousin’s son makes it and I keep a little on hand for emergencies. Reckon this is one. Don’t understand why you’re not happy to see your mama, nice as she is, but you looked like you about got run over by Josten’s bull. Here comes Allie. She’ll take care of you.” And Betty flipped off toward the kitchen, leaving Zeph torn between panic and amusement.
Allie came through the door and looked around. Her face lit when she saw him and she hurried to slide into the booth to face him.
“What’s wrong?” were her first words.
“My mother’s here.”
“How wonderful.” Allie’s face glowed. “I’d love to meet her.”
“Yeah.”
She frowned. “Don’t you like her?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then I don’t understand—oh. I guess I do.” She took his arm and led him outside. “You’re afraid your mother will think you’re really interested in me.” Her voice had gone flat and expressionless.
“I am interested in you,” he protested. “After yesterday, you can’t think—”
“That was just sex. Isn’t that the guy thing?”
He grabbed her arms and swung her to face him. “That was not just sex. Honest to God, Allie, how could you think that?”
“We both know this can’t go anywhere else, so—”
“Uh oh. This looks like trouble in paradise.” The voice was rich, fruity, and…unwelcome.
“Hello, Bill,” Allie said with resignation. “No trouble. Just a little discussion. What are you up to?”
“Coffee break,” Bartelett said. “Getting out to see my constituents. Got to stay in touch with what the people want.”
Did everything that came out of his mouth have be so—so—political? “Have fun,” Zeph said, trying not to snarl.
“Were you able to get up to my place to see about that prowler?”
“Yes. No sign of one. We’ve got to go. Lincoln’s waiting for us.” He hauled Allie toward the car.
But—” Bartelett said as the door slammed behind them.
“We have to stop—” Allie began.
“No, we don’t. We have to get to your Dad’s and muzzle my mother.”
“Why? Is she going to reveal some dark secret you don’t want Dad—or me—to know?” She turned on him, scowling. “It’s not like we’re engaged, Zeph. You’re perfectly free to walk away from me any time you want. I don’t think your secrets matter all that much.”
None of the gun shots or knives in his past had cut so hard or deep. His breath hitched. “That’s not the problem,” he said as soon as he could be sure his voice was steady. “She told Betty I was here working. If she tells anyone else…if Betty decides she was telling the truth…my undercover status is shaky enough as it is.”
“Of course. It’s all about the job. I should have realized.”
The pain in her voice cut even deeper. “It damned well is not, Allie. I—” he gulped. “I think I love you.” It didn’t hurt, so he said it again. “I love you, and I want us to have a chance to work things out without a lot of outside pressures.”
“Like your mother ordering the wedding cake and hiring a band?” Temper licked through her voice.
Girl stuff alert. “Well—well, yeah.”
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t take it seriously.”
Shit. “I—” What? He wanted her to take it seriously. He thought. Was almost sure.
“Never mind.” The words came out tight. Not quite angry. Definitely not happy. “Here we are.” She slammed the truck to a halt behind her Dad’s SUV.
“Where’s Mom’s car?” Zeph said.
Allie gave him A Look.
“Okay. You don’t know. Let’s go ask your dad.” He got out of the truck and followed Allie inside.
His mother wasn’t there. Of course. Lincoln looked up from his desk, looking stern and judicial peering over his half glasses when they knocked on the door.
“She went where?” Zeph exerted all his control to keep from yelling.
“She forgot something at Betty’s,” Lincoln repeated. “She went to get it. What’s the problem, Zeph? She’s a big girl, and Betty’s isn’t exactly a dangerous place.”
“He’s afraid his mother will gossip. Tell people he’s here on a job,” Allie said, her voice expressionless. Zeph glanced at her to check for anger or hurt.
“Well, he is.” Lincoln looked over his glasses at Zeph with fake sympathy. “Did you really think you were undercover?”
“I thought there might be one or two people in town who didn’t know. And maybe that might include the one I’m looking for. Silly of me.”
“Pretty much.” Lincoln nodded. “But you’re quite correct. Right now, it’s only gossip. You don’t need your mother confirming everyone’s suspicions.”
“Definitely not. I think I better get back to Betty’s and see if I can minimize the damage.”
“Too late,” Allie said. “Your mother just got back.”
Zeph controlled an urge to bang his forehead against the wall. When his mother bounced into the room, he cut off her chatter. “Who did you talk to?” he demanded.
“Well, hello to you, too.” She put her hands on her hips. “You mind your manners, young man. You’re not too old to spank.”
“I am so. Too old and too big.”
“I think,” Allie said, “that he might be right.” She gazed up at him and Zeph lost his train of thought for a moment at the heat in her eyes.
“Never mind. Zephram, I didn’t teach you to be that rude.”
“No, I learned that all by myself. Mom, this is important. Who did you talk to and what have you told them?”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. You’re acting like it’s a matter of life and death.”
If he admitted that some of his cases got to the near-fatal point, he’d have a full-fledged hysterical tantrum to deal with. If he didn’t, she’d never tell him. “Mother, could you for once take my word for something and just answer the damn question?”
“Well, really,” his mother huffed. “I spoke three words to Betty, who had already found my phone. All I said was, ‘Bet you didn’t expect me back so soon. Just couldn’t stay away. Oh, but isn’t Judge Wentworth just the nicest man, his house is so lovely.’ And then I told Betty I’d left my phone, but she had already gotten it out from behind the counter and held it out to me and said, ‘Oh, I knew right off it belonged to you, that cover with the zebra design and all red and purple, that’s some big city stuff you don’t see the likes of around here so I just set it back—’“
“Enough,” Zeph roared.
“No wonder you’re a man of few words. She talks even more than Betty.” Lincoln’s voice held admiration and sympathy.
Zeph took his mother’s arm and led her to a chair. “Sit down, Mom. Who else did you talk to?”
“Well, no one. Oh, except for that nice man.”
Zeph gritted his teeth. He knew what was coming.
“He said he’s the mayor. Is he really the mayor, Lincoln? He didn’t seem much like a politician to me, just so nice and friendly and I couldn’t imagine the mayor of Los Angeles being so sweet and wanting to hear all about my visit and he was so interested that I’d decided to surprise you and—what did you say, dear?”
“Never mind,” Zeph snapped. He took a deep breath and willed his voice to pleasant inquiry. “Mother, did you tell him I was here to investigate something?”
“Well, no, of course not, dear, you told me not to say a word, so all I said was that I came here thinking you were here to work and then Betty told me about Allie but I didn’t think you ever went anywhere just for fun, except well, you never went anywhere just for vacation except skiing and Club Med, which I’m not supposed to know about, anyway, then—”
Zeph over-rode her gentle voice. “I get the picture.”
“Does she do that all the time?” Allie asked.
“Yes. And I sincerely hope that is not fascination I’m hearing,” Zeph said.
“So do I, Allison,” Lincoln said.
“I can’t imagine what you all are talking about,” Zeph’s mother said, projecting injured innocence. “I only—”
“I don’t suppose Monty would consider solitary confinement for the rest of her visit,” Zeph said to Lincoln.
“Not a chance. I’ll just have to keep her busy while you’re—ah, not working. Would that suit you, Elena?”
Zeph’s jaw dropped when his mother blushed. He shot a narrow look at Lincoln, who didn’t seem to notice. Had Allie noticed? He edged over to her side. “What’s going on?” he whispered.
“Something. Took you long enough to catch on,” she whispered back with a wicked little smile.
“Would he be petty enough to hit on my mother because you and I...”
Anger sparked from Allie’s eyes and her reply came in a furious whisper. “Of course not. What a rotten thing to say. How can you even think such a thing?”
It must be everybody-hate-Zeph day. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never seen her act like this before.”
Allie shrugged and led the way to the kitchen. She crossed the room to do something involving brussels sprouts.
“Dinner. Good.” Winn thumped down the back stairs and rummaged in the refrigerator. “I thought I’d have to do it all.”
Zeph accepted the potato peeler along with enough potatoes to feed an army. He settled at one end of the kitchen table and started peeling while Allie and his mother and Winn and Lincoln acted like they knew what they were doing. He looked over at his mother, busily rolling pie crust and dimpling up at Lincoln.
When the pie had gone in the oven his mother bustled over to him. “You’re certainly quiet this evening. Did you do something to make Allie mad? She hasn’t been near you...”
“Forget Allie. You’re acting like a teenager. You’re flirting with him,” Zeph accused.
Twin dimples winked beside her impish smile. “Yes, I am.”
Unable to think of an answer to that, Zeph picked up another potato.
“I’m not that old, you know. There’s no reason I have to be alone all the time. I can enjoy the company of a member of the opposite sex, you know. I don’t know why you think you have a monopoly on such things. You might give a thought to that if you weren’t always running through women like a lawn mower through high grass—”
“Did it ever occur to you to stay out of my—” He broke off. He couldn’t say “sex life” to his mother. The rudeness of “mind your own business” would probably get him a swat on the side of the head. “Love life?” Yeah, except as a certified bachelor and man about town,
love
and
serious
made him flinch. Well, except for Allie, and that was so new...anyway, having his mother messing in his—whatever—was the problem.
“No, it didn’t. You are my business. And besides that—”
“Besides that, nothing. Don’t talk to people. And stay away from Allie.”
“Right. Like that’s going to happen,” his mother snorted.
“Dream on, hotshot,” Winn said from behind him.
****
After dinner, Allie’s phone shrilled just as she stacked the last of the dishes by the sink. After a short conversation, she pulled off her apron and tossed it to Zeph. “Sorry, folks. You’ll have to take care of this without me,” she said, and zipped out the door.
“Here, honey. Let me do that.” Zeph’s mother took the apron. “You can dry, Zeph, and let Lincoln and Winn put things away. After all they know where everything goes and we don’t. Martha will get so annoyed if...”
Yeah. Dry and answer questions. Zeph tuned out the rest of her rambling and braced for the interrogation he knew would come.
“Where did you and Allie meet?” His mother began the inquisition as she washed the wine glasses.
“Don’t start,” Zeph said.
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Zephram. I’m your mother. And it’s not as though I’m asking you for state secrets. After all, I’m only making idle conversation with another adult. It’s not as though I’m being nosy or—”
“Like you’d ever be nosy,” Zeph grumbled.
“Really, dear. Asking where and how you met this lovely young woman—who is obviously very important to you, I might add—is scarcely being intrusive. It’s not as though I’m reading your diary—not that you ever would keep one—or snooping through your drawers, or questioning your friends—”
“All right,” he shouted. “All right, Mother. Allie and I met at the home of mutual—uh—friends.” He dried a plate for the fifth time.
Lincoln took it from him and set it in a cabinet.
“And what are you smiling about?” Zeph growled.
The last, stubborn traces of grin gave away Lincoln’s amusement even as he said with an almost-straight face, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“Well, that’s nice, dear,” Zeph’s mother went on as though she hadn’t heard them. “It’s always so helpful for a couple to have friends in common. And how long have you been dating? I would think that would be something of a problem if Allison lives here. You must spend half your time driving back and forth—”