As we looked over the menus, George said, "So tell me how John became Luke."
I was still a little rattled from the "kill you" comment, so talking about Luke seemed like safer territory. I explained what had happened at One Man's Trash and Tucker's last-minute memory.
"McQueen?" George said. "Sounds hokey."
I nodded. "Luke said it didn't sound right to him either. He was pretty shook up after finding out he was in there asking about the box after the tourist."
"I imagine he was," George said.
The waitress appeared, and we ordered a large pepperoni, two side salads, and more beer.
"So he canceled his plans with you after these amazing revelations?" George asked.
"Yes, he said he needed time to think," I replied. "So what's your take on all of this?"
George looked up at me. "I think Luke had something to do with Reggie's death. I also think he knows where my uncut diamonds are." He held up a hand to stop my protests. "I admit there's a possibility that he really does have amnesia. Like I said before, I don't think Luke was a very nice guy before the accident."
I thought about him out at Rockgrove with Gram. "So it's time to go to the police with all of this then," I said with resignation.
George leaned forward. "I've got a better idea. I'm moving in with you and Janiece."
"You're crazy!" I said as the waitress placed our food and drinks in front of us.
George waited for her to leave and then said, "Am I? If you go to the police and tell them about the box and the diamonds, then Luke might be arrested. He showed up in town asking questions about Reggie the Fence the day before Reggie was killed. They'll have to treat him as a suspect. But what if he's not? He's not going to be happy with you. If he's really a bad guy, then you don't want to antagonize him if you don't have to."
I stared at him blankly for a full second. "You've lost it." I shook my head and put down my pizza. "How am I going to explain you living at Rockgrove?"
"Maybe I'll get amnesia too."
"Be serious!" I snapped.
"I'll have a waterline break in my apartment. You invite me to stay at Rockgrove while it's being fixed. Simple." He took a bite of pizza and wiped at the cheese on his chin with his napkin.
I did feel better at the thought of George keeping an eye on Luke. I knew I should say no and go to the police, but I didn't want to rock the boat yet. What if Luke was perfectly innocent? What if they shut down my renovation? I pushed my plate away. Pizza and beer weren't helping right now.
"Okay," I said loudly. "Okay! Let's do it." I shook my head, not believing I was really going this route.
"Really?" George asked. "Didn't see that coming."
"Let's get going before I change my mind." I signaled to the waitress for our check.
George laid down two twenties.
I nodded approvingly. "Hey, when it comes to picking up the tab, you can be the man. No argument here."
"Glad to see you're enjoying yourself, Miss Jordan," boomed a pompous voice from behind me. The shadow of a ten-gallon hat fell across the table. "But I reckon you won't be laughing after my lawyers get through with you," said Jack Condor with a sneer. Behind him stood his secretary in a sequined, blue top and skin-tight jeans. She was looking at her phone, seemingly bored with the whole scene.
"Jack Condor," I said easily, "meet George Fontaine. Jack's here to threaten me yet again. Aren't you, Jack?" I batted my eyes at him.
Condor nodded at George. "You that new florist, right?"
"In the flesh," George said archly.
Condor dismissed him and turned on me. "You're gonna pay to have my buildings exterminated. I know it's your bats that have holed up out there. Just came from the property. They're destroying the place." He shook his finger at me.
"Bats?" I asked innocently. "What bats?"
"The whole town knows you had bats in Marlton House, and now they're mysteriously gone. I got three witnesses that'll swear they saw you and that kooky exterminator heading out of town with the whole colony of bats."
I made a face. "That sounds really farfetched." I looked over at George. "Don't you think?"
"Implausible. Moving a colony of bats across town."
"Well, how do you explain all the dad-burned bats in my buildings?" Condor sputtered.
"Guess bats aren't picky," I said with a shrug.
"Now you look here." Condor jabbed his finger in my face again. "I know you're behind this, and I'm gonna make you pay one way or another."
In a flash, George stepped in front of me and twisted Condor's finger backward. Condor went down to one knee with a scream. Conversation ceased in the restaurant. "I'd suggest you apologize to Miss Jordan for intruding on her evening, and save your allegations for business hours. Do you understand?"
Condor nodded, his face turning a bright-purple color.
"Good," George said, releasing Condor's finger and holding out a hand to me. I scooted around the table and Condor, who was rubbing his finger and getting slowly to his feet.
"This ain't over. Not by a long shot," Condor yelled as we went out the door.
I glanced over at George as we hurried down Main Street. "How did you do that?"
He shrugged. "Just a little trick I picked up."
"Some trick," I said with a sideways glance at him.
* * *
By the time we got to Rockgrove, it was nearly nine. Although George had displayed manly attributes in his rush to my defense, he packed like a girl. He definitely had more hair products than I did. He also brought his own clothes steamer.
"Honey, we're home," he called as we entered the house.
I felt relief as Gram called, "Alexandra, is that you?"
We went into the kitchen where Gram was making tea and wearing her long green velvet robe. "Oh my," she exclaimed, clutching her robe closed at the chest when she saw George. "I didn't know we were having company."
"So sorry we didn't call ahead," George said smoothly. "I had a slight emergency. My pipes burst in my apartment. Your granddaughter offered me a place to stay and help with fixing my plumbing."
"Oh, how horrible. Imagine pipes bursting this time of year," Gram exclaimed. "Why, of course you must stay with us. It's getting to be like the house parties we had when I was a child." Her eyes shone as she thought about the past.
George waved a hand. "Yes, yes," he said easily. "Very unusual. It might even be rats chewing through the pipes. Who knows? I'm not very mechanical. Thank you so much for your generous hospitality. This will be quite a treat for a bachelor like myself, staying with two lovely ladies."
"Oh, George," Gram said, blushing like a girl, "you're a rascal." She shook a bony finger at him.
"Watch your finger, Gram," I said with a grin. "Jack Condor stuck his in my face, and George pulled a cool ninja trick on him. First time I've ever seen Condor speechless."
"Now that would be a sight to see," Gram said, giving George an admiring look. "Maybe you can teach me that ninja trick. I could use it on Sybil Thomas when she starts wagging her finger at me during quilting club for making my stitches too big. Which they're not, of course," she added firmly.
"Of course not," George agreed. "It's not so much a ninja trick as it is for self-defense. I wouldn't want to be responsible for an incident at the quilting club."
Gram smiled at him and offered us both tea. I peeked around into the parlor. No sign of Luke. Poor Smitty was still covered up.
I walked into the room, switched on the lights, and pulled off Smitty's cover. He murmured appreciatively, "Pretty bird."
Gram and George followed with the tea service. "It's a shame to keep him covered, but he just won't stop yelling at poor John. I mean Luke." Gram sat down in a chair. "I tried to sit in here and listen to the poor man's story this evening, and that bird wouldn't shut up."
"Bad boy!" Smitty squawked.
I glanced over at George. He shrugged, saying, "Bird seems to me to be a pretty good judge of character."
> "What a harrowing couple of days that poor man has had." Gram tsked. "But hopefully all this will help him get his memory back in the end. He was very upset this evening. Went to his room with a tiny sandwich a couple of hours ago, and I haven't heard a peep since."
"Did he make any phone calls this evening, Janiece?" George asked.
"Oh, heavens no. Who would he call?" she said.
"Just a thought," George said. "I'm just a little concerned that Luke may have had some involvement with the dead tourist."
Gram gasped. Now he'd done it.
George went on quickly. "Not that he had anything to do with the man's death. Just that he may know more than he thinks he does, and when his memory does come back, it could be quite traumatic for him."
Gram calmed down. "It would be quite a shock, I'm sure, if he'd known the victim." She shuddered.
"So let's just keep our eyes and ears open," I said easily.
Gram nodded and set her empty tea cup down. "Well, I'm off to bed. Alexandra, please show George to the blue room when he's ready. I believe it's already made up with fresh linens."
I kissed her on the cheek. She gave a little wave to George as she left.
"That went pretty well," George said, getting to his feet and walking over to Smitty's cage.
"I don't know why you had to tell her anything," I grumbled. "She's not very subtle. She'll probably just come right out and ask Luke about the tourist."
George opened the cage door, and Smitty stepped out eagerly onto his hand. "Pretty boy, pretty boy," Smitty chanted. He ran up the side of George's arm and snuggled against his neck.
I shook my head. "That's just weird. Some of your hair products must have birdseed in them."
"I am a warm, trustworthy person. Animals and children love me." He walked back over to the couch and sat down close to me. Smitty swayed contentedly and seemed to dare me to ruin his good time.
"Weird how much he hates Luke," I observed.
George lifted his brow. "Not to me. Obviously something happened between Smitty and Luke. Or Smitty saw something."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Smitty let himself out of his cage, flew down to Marlton House, watched Luke murder Reggie, and then got back here before we noticed he was missing. That's some amazing bird."
"Pretty bird," Smitty corrected.
"Are you always this sarcastic?" George asked. "Because I like my women a little sweeter."
I gave him a sour look. "Gram's available."
"I'm not sure she's any sweeter. She just has better manners. You Jordan women are all alike." He sighed and sat back against the cushions. Smitty fluttered a little, adjusting his position.
"You know it's hard to take you seriously with a bird on your shoulder."
George stood up and started pacing the room. Smitty clung on for dear life but didn't seem to want to go back to his cage. "What if…" He turned suddenly in front of the fireplace and faced me. Smitty squawked at the sudden move. "What if," he continued, "Luke and Smitty had a run-in before Luke lost his memory?"
"Before I found him on the rocks?"
George nodded. Smitty nodded too. "Did Smitty just nod?" George asked, his eyes cutting over to the bird on his shoulder.
I nodded.
"That's a little strange," George said before continuing. "Was the house empty that morning? Maybe Luke broke in and came into this room looking for something?"
George was clearly grasping at straws, but I was following his train of thought. "And scared Smitty?" I finished. "But why would Luke come in here? Rockgrove has nothing to do with Reggie or Marlton House. The only connection is that I found him on the rocks below."
George paced a few more feet and then took a deep breath. "No connection I can think of," he said with a sigh and sat down beside me.
"Maybe I can help you with your theory," said a voice from the doorway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Luke stood in the doorway wearing a robe pulled around loose sweat pants. His hair was tousled from sleep.
Smitty let out a shriek and started flying around the room. He knocked over a lamp and two figurines in his flight from Luke.
"Bad boy! Bad boy!" Smitty chanted, flying in awkward circles.
George grabbed Smitty's cage cover and threw it over the bird as he went by.
There was squawking and feathers flying as George wrestled Smitty into his cage and slammed the door shut. Broken feathers stuck out all over Smitty's head, and his breathing was labored.
George didn't look much better. A dusting of bird feathers covered his head, and a big smear of Smitty poop decorated his suit jacket.
"You really have a way with animals, don't you?" George growled at Luke. "What the hell did you do to that bird?"
Luke ran his hand though his hair. "It was an accident," he began. "When I was here by myself after I got out of the hospital, I heard the bird in here in his cage. I came in and took the cover off and tried talking to him. He started swearing at me and telling me I was a bad boy," Luke said ruefully. "I lost my temper and banged the side of the cage. I didn't mean to traumatize him." He turned to me. "I am sorry. I know he's your pet."
"So that was it," George said, clearly not buying a word of the story. "You lost your temper—with a defenseless little bird, I might add. And now he cowers at the sight of you?"
I thought calling Smitty a defenseless little bird was pushing the envelope.
Luke cried, "I'd almost drowned and had amnesia. What do you want from me, man? I lost it." Luke turned to me. "I'll leave tonight if you want. I don't want to be a burden to you or your grandmother."
"Might be best with that hair-trigger temper of yours. Who knows what'll happen when you actually get your memory back," George said.
"You hush," I said, turning on George. "We all know Smitty can be a handful. He's called me a wench more than once in front of company. I can certainly see how having a bird screaming at you after all that you'd been through could've pushed you over the edge. I'm not holding that against you, Luke."
George groaned.
"Thank you, Alex," he said, touching my hand. "What's he doing here anyway?"
"Broken pipes, roomie," George said cheerfully. "You've got amnesia, and I've got broken pipes, so we're all going to shack up and see what happens."
I looked up at the ceiling.
"I might have amnesia, but you're just plain weird."
"Amen," I said, stopping the staring contest that had begun between the two men. "We'll all have to be on our best behavior— won't we, George?"
"Little strange to have broken pipes this time of year, isn't it?" Luke said, still staring at George.
"Rats," George said. "I've got a rat problem. Must've chewed through my pipes."
This was starting to get intense. I stepped between the two, saying, "Let's get up to our rooms and give Smitty a break. He's no spring chicken, and this little adventure has probably taken a few years off of his life."
Luke looked down at me with warmth in his eyes. "Sure thing. Need help clearing up?" he asked politely.
"No, I think we've got it," I said looking back up at him. "See you at breakfast."
"You bet. And don't forget you've got me the whole day tomorrow. I'll be at your beck and call."
I flushed a little at that. George muttered "oh brother" behind me.
I turned on George as soon as Luke had left the room. "Did you have to be so confrontational?"
"Yes," George said, putting the tea things back on the tray. "There's a good chance that guy is a criminal and maybe even a murderer. Forgive me for not being more delicate."
"Maybe pushing his buttons like that isn't the way to go. You'd better sleep with one eye open after that little rant."
He carried the tray into the kitchen without a word. A thought occurred to me as I watched his stiff movements at the sink.
"Are you jealous?" I asked.
"Don't be ridiculous," he huffed, splashing water up on his already ruined jacket.
"You are," I said, pointing a finger at him. He glared at my finger, and I snatched it back. "I can see why. He's certainly an attractive alpha male." I was stirring the pot and loving every minute of it. "You should've seen him handle a chain saw today." I fanned myself with the dish towel.
George turned to me with smoldering eyes. His wet hands were around my waist and his lips to mine before I could utter a protest. His clean-smelling, faintly exotic cologne filled my nostrils. His lips were smooth, warm, and firm. He pressed his body against mine as his tongue traced a path across my lips. I couldn't help it. I kissed him back, hungrily leaning into him. My hands found their way around his neck.
He pulled back slowly, looking at me with dark, amused eyes. "There's more to a man than how he handles a chain saw. You'll have more fun when you realize that."
I raised an eyebrow. "Being a good kisser doesn't trump everything, you know," I said softly, still wanting to taste his lips.
"Yes, but it's a start," he said, kissing me again.
I groaned. This was getting out of control. Jeez, but he was a good kisser. I pulled away reluctantly, saying, "I don't think this is a good direction for us given our new living arrangements." I hated that my breath was coming in little pants.
George smiled. "I think the timing is perfect."
I stopped him from leaning in for another kiss by pressing my finger to his lips.
"It isn't going to happen," I said firmly.
He leaned back and gave me an amused look. "Wanna bet?" he said, but he pulled away and headed to the doorway.
* * *
I awoke in a panic as a hand clamped firmly over my mouth.
"Ready to solve the mystery, Mrs. Charles?" George whispered. My body flushed at the soft, sensual feeling of his lips against my ear.
I jumped up, pushing his hand away from my mouth. "What are you talking about?" I whispered furiously. "You need to go back to bed."
He turned on a small flashlight. "Hurry up and get dressed," he ordered. "Mr. X is on the move."
"What?" I asked, pushing the flashlight away from me.
George stared for a few seconds.
"Is there a problem?" I asked, following his gaze.
Secret of the Painted Lady Page 14
