As Emma unlocked her car, a woman wearing a scarf and sunglasses hurried from the gun dealership toward the smart, blue late-model Fiat parked behind Emma’s Toyota. Her furtive manner caused Emma to look more closely.
“Georgia?” she called out in surprise. “Is that you?”
The woman paused, then sighed and walked over, taking off her sunglasses. “Hi.”
Emma glanced at the gun dealership and back at Georgia and couldn’t help asking, “Were you just in there?”
Georgia lifted her chin. “Yes, though I don’t see what that’s got to do with you.”
Only yesterday the woman had invited Emma out for lunch, yet now she was aloof and uppity. Emma couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. I’ll be off, then. Goodbye.” She went to open her car door.
“Wait, I’m sorry.”
She turned back to see Georgia had her arms wrapped around herself and instead of aloof she looked almost forlorn. She waited for Georgia to speak first.
“I didn’t buy a gun.” Georgia jerked a hand toward the gun dealership. “I was just…looking around.”
“Okay,” Emma said cautiously. “No harm in that.” Georgia would have to get a license first, in any case, but why was she interested in guns? What was she afraid of? Or rather, who was she afraid of?
“I heard you and Mervyn spent the morning together.” Georgia’s voice was frosty again.
Oh, no, not this again. Why did Georgia think Emma was a threat to her relationship with Mervyn? Emma had no idea how much Mervyn had told his girlfriend about Otto Wiseman and his connection to eSolutions, or about asking Emma for help investigating, but she didn’t want to say anything that might cause him embarrassment.
“We, um, we just went for a ride in his car,” she improvised. “He wanted to show me his Lamborghini.”
“Show you his Lamborghini?” Georgia narrowed her lovely sky-blue eyes at Emma. She looked like a haughty Egyptian cat. “Is that all you did?”
“Well, we did have lunch, too,” Emma said, annoyed with herself for feeling so apologetic. She lifted her hands. “Look, there is nothing going on between Mervyn and me. Nothing at all.”
“You’re protesting so much it makes me wonder if you’re hiding something.”
Emma shook her head. “I don’t know how to make this any clearer. I have no interest in poaching your boyfriend. Honest.”
Georgia’s eyes were slits. “Cross your heart and hope to die?” she asked in a fake, child-like voice.
“Talk to Mervyn. He’ll tell you the truth.” Not waiting for a reply, Emma got into her car and drove off.
She didn’t know what was going on with Georgia. The poor girl must be more traumatized by Todd’s death than anyone anticipated. Hadn’t Mervyn said she’d taken tranquilizers earlier today? And then this afternoon Todd’s parents must have visited and revived all the horrible memories of last Saturday night. It stood to reason that Georgia was on edge. But that didn’t explain why she was trying to buy a gun.
Emma sighed as she steered her car toward home, anxious to turn her thoughts to more pleasant matters. Tonight she was going to the meet up Owen had organized at The Shore Thing Bar and Grill. That was something to look forward to. She began to think about what to wear, but at the back of her mind lingered a memory of Georgia’s stiff face and strained voice.
Cross your heart and hope to die…
***
The bar area of The Shore Thing was separate from the dining area, which was a good thing because the bar could get rowdy at times. Wednesday nights were usually quiet, but tonight it was busier than normal, thanks to the ten or so people from Emma’s year who had gathered for an informal reunion. Some, like Emma, were Shamrock Lake locals, while others, like Zoe, were from out of state and visiting for the high school anniversary.
Since her return to Greenville, Emma had been so focused on building her new business that she’d had little time for socializing, so this was a good opportunity to catch up with some old friends she hadn’t seen in years.
“Great seeing some of these guys, isn’t it?” Zoe said to her when they were both at the bar waiting to order their second drinks.
“Yep.” Emma nodded. “I was just talking to Brendon. Did you know he’s some big shot oil executive in Houston?”
“So I heard. He’s doing really well.” Zoe sighed and rested her chin in her hand, looking rather wistful.
“Hey, so are you, Miss Vice-President-in-waiting.”
Shrugging, Zoe turned back to survey the crowd. “Hey, where’s Owen? I haven’t seen him at all tonight.”
Emma didn’t need to scan the room to know Owen wasn’t here. She’d been waiting over an hour for him to appear and been sorely disappointed each time a man walked into the bar and turned out not to be him.
“He hasn’t arrived yet,” she said.
“That’s not right. He organized this. He should be here.”
“Maybe he got caught up at work.”
“The Todd drowning? But that was—” Zoe broke off and craned her neck. “Oh, look, there he is. He just came in now.”
Cheers broke out as someone walked into the crowded bar. Emma could just make out Owen’s head above the melee. Several people surged around Owen, offering to buy him a drink, and he quickly fell into conversation. Emma hung back, feeling strangely shy about approaching him. They hadn’t been in a social situation like this for ages, and she wasn’t sure how to behave. She would wait until he was alone, she decided, before she talked to him.
She chatted with others, and more than half an hour ticked past before he sauntered up to her and raised his eyebrows in greeting.
“Glad you could make it,” he said quietly.
There was a warmth in his eyes, as if he was genuinely glad to see her, that lifted her spirits. They were temporarily alone, and she felt a big grin stretching across her lips. “I thought you weren’t coming!” she blurted out, and then wanted to kick herself for sounding so gushing.
“Well, I made it in the end.” He flexed his shoulders. “It’s a long drive from San Francisco.”
Her eyes widened. “You were there? For work?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “Investigating Todd Neumann’s death?”
Owen hesitated, and then, after a brief glance around them, lowered his voice. “Yes, but I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
“I know that all too well, but I can guess. You wanted to find out if he had any enemies, if there was any reason someone would want him dead. From what I’ve heard, Todd didn’t have any enemies, and his only vice was a weakness for alcohol.”
“Who have you been talking to?”
“Mervyn, Georgia. Oh, and Zoe.”
“I see.” His face gave nothing away.
“So you’re not going to tell me anything in return?” she asked, sidling closer to him.
He looked at her and cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about something else. Can I buy you a drink?”
Surprised and pleased, she nodded. Owen gestured to two vacant bar stools at the counter. The rest of their group appeared content to leave them alone, which she appreciated.
Angus was on duty tonight, the bartender Emma had hired for Mervyn’s party. He took their orders and served a white wine to Emma and a beer to Owen.
“Hey, Angus,” Owen said as he handed money to the man. “How are things tonight?”
“Not too bad. Just keeping my eye on some of your buddies. There’s a guy over there who shouldn’t be driving tonight.” He jutted his chin toward Brendon, who was guffawing raucously with Zoe over by the pool table.
“Don’t worry,” Owen said. “I’ll make sure he gets home safely.” He waited until the bartender had moved to serve someone else on the opposite end of the counter before saying to Emma, “Angus is hyper-vigilant about drunk drivers these days.”
Emma took a sip of her wine. “Why’s that?”
“He was the bartender when Katrina Heston go
t plastered and had the accident that put her in a wheelchair.”
“That’s awful. He must feel terrible about that.”
“Yeah. The worst thing is, he did the right thing. He took her car keys away from her and put them behind the bar, but when he went on his break, she took the keys and got into her car.”
Emma shook her head. “It’s tragic. I saw Katrina at the high school the other day. I feel so sorry for her. Her and her parents.” She thought back on her awkward meeting with Katrina. Something about it still troubled her. “You know, I think she was trying to tell me something, but she seemed a bit erratic, and I couldn’t quite make out what she wanted to say.”
“At least you took the time to talk with her. A lot of people just look the other way when they see her coming.” He nodded, the approval in his eyes taking her by surprise.
A commotion broke out over at the pool table where Brendon had staggered against one of the players and ruined his shot. Giggling, Brendon held up his hands and made a slurring apology.
A man bumped against Emma’s shoulder, almost spilling his drink over her. “’Scuse me,” he mumbled.
Owen frowned at the guy before touching Emma’s elbow. “There’s an empty table by the window. Want to go over there?”
She didn’t need to be asked twice. They ferried their drinks to the table, where it was much more pleasant, and talked about the anniversary and the people who’d graduated from their high school.
“This is nice,” Emma couldn’t help saying when they had lapsed into a companionable silence. “For once we’re not at loggerheads.”
Owen smiled wryly. “See? We can do this if we try.”
The trouble was, she’d like more than ‘this’, but didn’t know how to broach the subject. Was she game enough to bring up that kiss? They ought to talk about it, because there was no way they could ignore it. But now probably wasn’t the best place to do that.
Caught up in her musings, she gazed out the window at the parking lot. A few people were leaving, rugged up against the cold weather. Across the street sat a dark green sedan that seemed vaguely familiar to her. Was it Vera’s car, the same one she and Mervyn had used this morning? Maybe Vera was here at The Shore Thing, having dinner with someone.
“Emma?” Owen touched her hand. “Is something the matter?”
“Er, no, just daydreaming.” She turned her attention back to Owen. No way could she tell him what she and Mervyn had got up to this morning. Owen would go ballistic, and she so wanted this warm, easy atmosphere between them to last. She decided to steer the conversation to a safer topic. “I went to look an apartment today. It was horrible but apparently in hot demand. I guess I’ll be staying with my dad for a while longer.”
“I didn’t realize you were so eager to move out.”
“Well, my dad is happy for me to stay for as long as I want, but I am nearly thirty. I should have my own place, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think you need to hurry.” He took a sip of beer before continuing, “One of my mom’s friends has a small house that’s just become vacant. It’s out of town, and I don’t believe it’s too expensive. Want me to find out more for you?”
“Oh, yes, please,” Emma immediately replied.
“Okay. I’ll call my mom sometime and text you the details.”
“Thanks.” She hadn’t expected help from Owen, and her heart warmed. “But do it when you’re not so busy. I know you’re tied up with this investigation.”
“I’ll do that.” He took another pull of his beer. “I’m enjoying working with Detective Gambino. She’s taught me a lot. I might join the investigative division, if they’ll have me.”
“Of course they would! They’d be lucky to have you.”
He grinned at her enthusiastic reply. “Glad you approve.”
Slightly embarrassed, she glanced down at the wine glass. Since her return to Greenville, she and Owen hadn’t shared many friendly, relaxed moments like this, but now was her chance to voice some of the reflections she’d gathered since moving back to Greenville.
“Look,” she began tentatively. “I haven’t said this to you before, but I think you’re a really good cop, and I’m glad that you’ve found your niche. When we were eighteen, I wouldn’t have thought it, but now that we’re older, I can see that being a police officer suits you perfectly, and I’m, well, I’m happy for you, that’s all.” She lifted her shoulders, self-conscious about her minor confession.
Owen was gazing at her, warmth and surprise showing on his face. “I really appreciate that,” he answered slowly. “More than you probably realize.”
His hand edged towards hers on the table. Their fingers were almost touching. Then, a car door slammed in the parking lot, interrupting the moment. His gaze flickered toward the window. His eyes widened.
“Uh, Emma, I should tell you something.” His cheeks were flushed, and his hand had slid away from hers. “I included Sherilee in the invite to tonight’s get together. She told me she’d be working tonight, but it looks like her shift ended early or something, because she’s just parked outside and any second now she’ll be coming into the bar.”
“Oh.” Emma tried to get her emotions under control. “That’s fine. Sherilee and I are both adults. We can handle this.”
But her nerves tightened as Sherilee walked into the bar and started greeting their old classmates. She paused to chat with them, appearing to pay close attention, but Emma was quite sure that Sherilee had already spotted her and Owen sitting alone by the window. After a few minutes, Sherilee strolled up to them, her expression unreadable.
Owen jumped to his feet. “Hey, Sherilee. Glad you could make it after all. Can I buy you a drink?”
“That’s okay. I’ve already ordered one.” Sherilee’s gaze cut to Emma. “Hi, Emma.”
Emma made herself smile. “Hi, Sherilee!” she said in a too bright voice. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Yeah, sit with us.” Owen hastily dragged a spare chair to the table and propped it in front of Sherilee. “Please.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Sherilee sat. An awkward silence fell on all three. Jeez, Emma thought. So many things we want to say. So many things we shouldn’t say.
“Uh, looking forward to the anniversary dinner?” Emma asked Sherilee. It was the most innocuous question she could think of.
“Actually, I’m working that night, so I can’t make it,” Sherilee replied.
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Emma shifted in her seat. It felt bizarre trying to make polite conversation with Sherilee while Owen listened in.
“I can’t make it either,” Owen said. “I’m hoping I can get to the football game Friday night, though. Don’t want to miss our Panthers take on Jefferson High.”
“The game’s going to be packed, what with all the alumni attending,” Sherilee said. “The chief wants everyone on patrol that night. We’re expecting some rowdy behavior.”
She sent a pointed look in Emma’s direction, and Emma belatedly remembered that Sherilee had caught her with Mervyn driving recklessly in his Lamborghini. Was she going to bring that up now in front of Owen? Emma hoped not; she didn’t want him getting the wrong impression.
Before she could worry any further, Brendon weaved his way to their table. “Sherilee! My favorite cop!” Bending down, he flung an arm around Sherilee’s shoulders. His alcoholic fumes enveloped everyone. “Why aren’t you in uniform?”
“Because I’m off duty,” Sherilee evenly replied, shrugging off his arm.
“I love a woman in uniform.” Brendon wet his lips and winked exaggeratedly.
Owen frowned. “Okay, buddy, settle down.”
Sherilee rolled her eyes at Brendon. “You never could hold your liquor, could you?”
“Aw, why the cold shoulder? You know I’ve always had a thing for you.”
“That’s too bad.”
Brendon’s voice rose, easily audible above the din. “Hey, don’t tell me you’ve still got the hots
for Owen here? That’s a dead end, honey. Him and Emma, they’re always gonna have a thing for each other. Everyone can see it.” He leered at Owen and then Emma. “Even if they won’t admit it. Ha-ha!”
Sherilee had gone as cold and still as a marble statue. Emma didn’t know where to look.
Owen stood and gripped Brendon by the jacket, his intention clear. “You’ve had enough to drink for one night. I’m putting you in a cab right now.”
Brendon batted ineffectually at Owen’s hands. “But buddy, I was just making conversation.”
“And now you’re finished. Believe me, you’ll thank me in the morning.” As Owen dragged him away, Brendon tried and failed to cling onto the table. Owen shook his head and looked back at Emma and Sherilee. “I think I’ll have to drive him back to his mom’s place just to make sure he doesn’t get up to any more mischief.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Sherilee announced as she bounded to her feet.
Owen looked like he wanted to protest, but Sherilee’s fierce expression appeared to check him. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve handled plenty of obnoxious drunks.” She pulled the limp Brendon from Owen’s grip and gave him a chilling death stare. “This one won’t give me any trouble, will you?”
Brendon smiled weakly. “Uh, no, Officer.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Sherilee marched the offender out of the bar, some of the bystanders quietly congratulating her as she passed.
Emma was left at the table with Owen. The free and easy atmosphere between them had burst and couldn’t be resurrected, not with everyone looking at them and Brendon’s words still echoing in the air.
“Uh, think I’ll go freshen up in the restroom,” Emma said, sliding to her feet and gathering her bag.
“Good idea.” Looking relieved, Owen headed in the opposite direction.
She had a feeling he’d be avoiding her for the rest of the night.
***
The following morning, the events at the bar still plagued Emma, making it difficult for her to concentrate on what her part-time receptionist was talking about. But halfway through Caitlyn’s monologue, a name caught Emma’s attention.
Murder Most Likely (an Emma Cassidy Mystery Book 3) Page 13
