by Amy Vansant
“What’s up?” she asked, arriving beside him.
“I think you might have something with that Seamus theory,” he whispered, making little circles under the water with his left foot.
“Why do you say that?”
“I just talked to him.”
“You what? You told him what I said?”
“No, of course not. I never mentioned you. But I think I tricked him into making a mistake.”
“Really…” Charlotte didn’t know whether to be relieved she had a real reason to warn Jackie, or to be upset the killer was Declan’s own uncle.
“I asked him if Erin’s death was what made him move to Miami, and he said ‘maybe’ followed by some hoo-ha about it inspiring him to help others, blah, blah, blah.”
“So?”
“Erin wasn’t dead then. She was missing. I asked if Erin’s death inspired him to move.”
“Only the killer would have known she was dead…”
“Right! I thought it was pretty clever of me.”
Charlotte tilted her head side to side, thinking. “It’s not exactly bulletproof though, is it?”
Harry shrugged. “You have to start somewhere.”
“Anything else?”
“He seemed pretty standoffish. Threatening, even.”
“He threatened you?”
“Not exactly. It was more his body language, some of the things he said. He said violence would find me, in so many words.”
“Violence will find you? What is he, a really dark fortune cookie?”
Charlotte glanced towards Jackie. The poor woman’s face was going to crack if she didn’t stop smiling. She hadn’t shown this much enthusiasm for water aerobics since…well, since never. How was she going to tell her that her new boyfriend might be a killer?
“Seamus got into a fight with Declan when I was over there…” Charlotte mused aloud.
Harry stopped swirling. “A fist fight?”
“No, they were just yelling…”
As she replayed the events in her mind, she remembered how angry Declan had been.
Maybe being a killer was in his blood…
Suddenly, she felt sick. She stopped moving her legs to the beat.
“He didn’t admit to dating the dead girl,” said Harry. “But I had to be careful there. I didn’t want to tip him that I received my information from you.”
“Well, it was really Mariska, but thank you,” mumbled Charlotte putting her hand on her stomach. “I think I’m going to go.”
“Are you going to warn Jackie? You should tell Frank to look into Seamus, just in case.”
Charlotte grimaced as another wave of anxiety pains washed across her.
“I don’t know. Yes, probably. Not now. I have to go. I have…” Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I have a date.”
“Oh yeah? Good for you! Go get ‘em, girl!”
Charlotte’s lip snarled and she turned and waded out of the pool.
Charlotte’s date arrived to the sound of Abby’s barking. He had knocked much too loudly. Abby’s barking triggered Katie next door, which set off Miss Izzy across the street until a symphony of dogs rang through the streets.
Charlotte took a quick look in the bathroom mirror. She still looked half asleep. She’d been so upset over the dilemma of talking to Jackie and the idea that Declan’s uncle might be a killer that she’d thrown herself into bed and taken a nap. She’d barely woken up in time to get a shower and get dressed.
Mustering what little enthusiasm she could, she pushed Abby aside with her leg and answered the door.
“Charlotte?” said a sandy haired man wearing a polo, khaki shorts and a braided leather belt. He was handsome in a predictable way, not too pretty, not too rugged. She could tell by the way he thrust out his chest that he knew exactly how good-looking he was.
“You must be Brad.” She used all her strength to pull Abby back and away from the door. “Come on in. She won’t hurt you. Are you okay with dogs? Can I let her go?”
Brad took a step inside. “Oh, sure, yeah, no problem.”
Abby bound forward, sniffing and circling Brad’s legs like a squiggling fur tornado. Charlotte scowled as she watched him raise his arms above his head and submit to the torrent of attention. His motion was the international symbol for not a dog lover. Dog lovers bent over and petted a happy dog, scratched them behind the ears or maybe even squatted and sat on a heel, the better to receive sloppy kisses. People afraid, uncomfortable or unimpressed by dogs raised their hands to avoid accidentally touching them.
“You’re as pretty as my grandmother said you were,” he said, hands still high above his head as if she had him at gunpoint.
Awkward.
“Thank you, but you know grandmothers,” she said, trying to keep it light. “They like to exaggerate.”
“No, really. You’re gorgeous.”
As Brad’s frat-boy gaze swept down her body, Charlotte felt the urge to cover up. She’d worn a summer dress, but as his leer settled on her breasts, she regretted her choice. Had she been dressing to impress? Maybe. Everyone liked to be admired…and Brad was cute, but his aggressive attention made her uneasy and his reaction to Abby was already one huge strike against any chance they had of hitting it off.
“Thank you,” she said, crossing her arms against her chest.
Brad glanced around the house.
“Looks like you’re quite a reader. Brains and beauty, eh?”
Charlotte tried to force a smile but she knew it looked more like she’d just smelled something rotten.
“Let me grab my bag.”
Abby realized there would be no pets from Brad and wandered to the sofa. She hopped up and flopped down her head.
“I thought we could grab lunch if that’s okay?” said Charlotte.
“That’s perfect,” he said, looking at his phone. He quickly typed a text and then slipped it back into his pocket. “I’ll drive, you just tell me where to go.”
“I’ll be back in a bit, Ab.”
Abby raised her eyes and then looked away, sulking.
“She understands you?” he asked as they walked to the car.
“Of course.”
What a person-without-a-dog thing to say.
“So she knows you’ll be back in a bit?”
“I always am.”
“What does she do while you’re gone?”
“Reads. The books are mostly hers.”
“Seriously?”
Charlotte looked at him.
Brad chuckled as he slipped into the driver’s side of his black Mercedes-Benz CLS.
“No, I know,” he said. “Funny. Door’s open.”
Charlotte sighed and opened the passenger side of the car.
Charlotte navigated Brad to Pickles, a casual restaurant in the heart of downtown. Pickles seemed like a good choice because it wasn’t too expensive and it was a notch above a diner. She assumed Brad intended to pay and thought it would be rude to take him to the most expensive place in town. As he asked her to take a moment to admire his car’s oversized wheels and black rims, she began to regret the decision. A nice bottle of wine and a dozen oysters might have been just the thing.
The window seats were taken, so they sat at a table in the center of the tiled-floor dining area. The restaurant was homey, and she could tell Brad wasn’t impressed. He did everything but wipe the seat before sitting down.
“You eat here a lot?” he asked.
“It isn’t much to look at, but the food really is good.”
Brad raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. Don’t know if it would have been my first choice without your suggestion.”
Let it slide. Be nice. It will all be over soon.
“So…you’re visiting your grandmother?”
“Yep, that time of year. Gotta put in the family time.”
Charming.
“Where do you live when you’re not here?”
“Atl
anta. I’m a mortgage broker there. Big firm. I’m one of the top guys.”
“I’ve heard good things about Atlanta…”
“It’s a blast. I love it. So much to do…” Brad looked around the restaurant and surveyed the people eating there. “Little more sophisticated than this place, if you know what I mean.”
“Mmm.”
Charlotte’s mind began to drift. She was still trying to think of the best way to warn Jackie without getting herself killed in the process, either by Seamus for ratting him out or by Jackie for crushing her dreams. She shouldn’t be sitting here with Brad, she should be out saving her friend. She also wondered what the special was. They had a delicious Monte Cristo sandwich with pepper jelly but it wasn’t on the regular menu. What made it a Monte Cristo? Did they eat them in The Count of Monte Cristo?
“Do you know where the sandwich Monte Cristo got its name?” she asked Brad before she realized it.
Brad looked at her as if she were crazy. “Because it is a Monte Cristo sandwich?”
Right. Duh.
“So what is there to do around here?” he asked. “Besides Google sandwich names.”
Charlotte looked at her purse where her phone sat.
I’d rather be Googling sandwich names…
Determined to be nice she smiled and shrugged. “The usual things I guess. Actually—”
“You should come to Atlanta!” he said, cutting her short. “I could show you around. Take you to some real restaurants. Serious food. We could hit the clubs…my boys would love you, I’m sure.”
“You have sons?”
“No my boyz, with a zee, you know, my crowd.”
“Oh. Gotcha.”
“You could stay at my place, I have four bedrooms. You could pick the one you want to stay in…”
Brad reached out and quickly stroked the back of Charlotte’s upper arm with his fingers, his million-watt smile pointed at her like a gun.
She flinched, but before he could react to her repulsion, his phone rang.
“Just a sec…” he said, glancing at the screen. “I have to take this. Big client.”
He stood and walked to the corner of the restaurant where he spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
Charlotte put her elbow on the table and plopped her chin in her hand, staring out the front window. She couldn’t imagine what she was going to do with this guy for the rest of the day. She wasn’t going to be anywhere alone with him that was for sure. He was much too confident, and in her experience, confidence rebuffed tended to turn into anger.
A man walked by the window and Charlotte straightened as he looked inside. His eyes flashed as his gaze met hers.
Declan.
He looked away and passed by without slowing. Charlotte felt a wave of disappointment. She felt sure he’d seen her.
Why wouldn’t he stop?
Declan appeared again in the window, this time walking the opposite way. He stood tall, but with every step his head grew lower, until it disappeared behind the opaque partition of the window, making it appear to her as if he walked down a flight of stairs. She giggled as the top of his head disappeared.
“Sorry about that,” said Brad, returning. “Big client. Two million dollar property. Actually that’s about average for me—”
Charlotte kept her eyes trained on the window and Declan’s head popped into view, jutting forward from the side of the window, the rest of his body still hidden so it looked like a floating head. Declan grinned, but as his gaze drifted from Charlotte to Brad his smile faded. His head withdrew, before he walked by in his original direction without looking into the restaurant again.
“Who was that?” asked Brad.
“A friend of mine,” said Charlotte, staring at the corner of the window where she last saw Declan.
“Dork much?” Brad chuckled to himself. “Anyway, I was thinking. There’s nothing to see around here, right? Not really. Why don’t I grab us a bottle or two of booze and we go back to your house and just get to know each other? I make a mean buttery nipple. Do you have butterscotch schnapps? The girls go crazy for those at home. You’ll love it. I’ll bring all the supplies, it’s just that if I see one more tiki bar I’m going to vomit, you know? It would be nice to just chill without my grandmother around. Especially with a pretty girl like you.”
Charlotte turned and looked at Brad.
“Really? Does that work on anyone?”
“What?”
“Buttery nipples?”
“Oh excuse me,” said Brad, his demeanor shifting from cloying to annoyance so quickly Charlotte thought he’d drop a transmission to the floor. “I suppose you’d be more comfortable going to Hooters for some beers like your usual date, trailer park girl?”
Charlotte stood, her face burning with anger.
“There isn’t even a Hooters around here!” she said through gritted teeth.
She paused, sure that wasn’t the comeback she’d had in mind, before spinning on her heel and storming toward the door.
“Your loss!” called Brad.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Declan fumbled with his keys but found his front door unlocked.
“Hey, Laddie, how was your day?” asked Seamus as he walked in. Seamus had his feet on the sofa table watching baseball on TV. A crumpled bag of potato chips sat resting against his foot, shaking as Seamus bobbed his toes to a beat unheard to all but him.
“Dreamy,” said Declan, throwing a white plastic bag on the kitchen counter.
“Do I detect a note of sarcasm? Whatcha got there?”
“Sandwiches for dinner. I hope you like Italian subs.”
“I do. Grand. So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Work was slow.”
Declan cracked himself a beer. He noticed the empty bottle on the sofa table, and grabbed another from the refrigerator for his uncle.
“That doesn’t look like work cranky,” said Seamus, accepting the beer with a nod as Declan flopped down on the opposite side of the sectional. “That looks like girl cranky.”
“Maybe,” he mumbled.
“Come on, tell Uncle Seamus everything.”
Declan rolled his eyes.
“I saw Charlotte in town. She was with some guy in a restaurant.”
“Maybe it was her brother.”
“She doesn’t have a brother,” said Declan taking a swig. “At least I don’t think so… I guess I don’t really know, but I don’t think so.”
“So was he bigger than you?”
“I’m not going to fight him for her. I’m not challenging him to a duel for crying out loud.”
“Okay, okay…that was just my first thought. Give me a second.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s just…I thought maybe…I don’t know.”
“Well, let me ask you this, boyo, have you asked her out?”
“No. Not exactly. We got some sushi…”
“Well, there’s your first mistake. Taking a woman to eat raw fish. What’s wrong with you?”
“It was her idea. We had a good time.”
“So why didn’t you arrange a second time?”
“I don’t know, it…I didn’t think it was date exactly, she just had information about Mom and we happened to be hungry.”
“Can’t you happen to be hungry again? I can be hungry three or four times a day.”
“Yeah, I don’t know…”
“How are you supposed to win a race if you don’t even step to the line?”
“It’s not a race.”
“You know what I mean. You should ask her out. Why not?”
“It’s just strange. Dating the girl who found your mother in her backyard.”
“People have met in stranger ways.”
“Really?”
Seamus considered. “Maybe not. That is a good one.”
“Exactly. Enough about me. How was your day?”
“Oh things are going quite well on my lady front.”
Declan grimaced.
“There has got to be a better way to word that.”
“Hey,” Seamus put down his beer and leaned his elbows on his knees. “What do you know about this Harry guy?”
“Harry? The guy from the crime meeting?”
“Yeah. The blowhard who found the bullet.”
Declan shrugged. “No more than you do. Why?”
“He seemed really interested in me today. Asking me some strange questions.”
“Like what?”
Seamus sat back. “Nothing. No worries. He’s just an odd one.”
Declan was about to ask his uncle to explain when his phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and answered.
“Declan?”
Charlotte.
“Hey…” He scrambled for something to say but every sentence he contrived started with I saw you with that guy today…
“I need to talk to you,” she said. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically tight.
“Shoot.”
“Um… Not on the phone. Could you come over?”
“Now?”
“If you could. Now would be great.”
“I guess…”
“And could you do me a favor? Could you pick me up on the way? I’m at Gina’s coffee shop downtown.”
Declan pictured Gina’s in his head and scowled.
“Down the block from where I just saw you?”
“Mm hm.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Long story. Well, short stupid story, but I’ll tell you when I see you.”
“Okay… I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Declan hung up to find his uncle staring at him.
“So?”
“It was Charlotte. She wants me to come over. I guess she has more news.”
“See? You’re in like Flynn. Don’t mess it up.”
Declan smiled and then sobered when he saw his uncle notice.
“Well, your sandwich is here. Go ahead and eat. You don’t have to wait for me.”
“Oh, I won’t,” said Seamus.
Declan grabbed his keys and headed for the door.
“Fancy meeting you here,” said Declan as he approached Charlotte’s table. She was already standing, ready to go.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” said Charlotte as they walked to his car. She was wearing another summer dress. Declan decided he liked that look on her.
