Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (250 page)

He gazed off into the street. “I really don’t want to go back to my mom’s place.”

“Well then, you can come with me, and if you can get a ride home from work, we can ride in together.”

“Great!” He signaled to the waitress for the check. Once we’d taken care of the bill, he stood, unwinding Garbo’s leash from the foot of his chair. “Come on, Garbo. It’s playdate time!”

Once he said
date
, I started to second-guess my impulse to invite him over. What if Lucas showed up? What would he think? Then again, why did it even matter what he thought? The reality was, this guy was now my co-worker, my boss at the bar, and maybe he could be a friend, too. I am allowed friends. Even very good looking ones.

I was further embarrassed by my van. I would have thought I’d gotten over it after driving Simone around and having her berate me about what a piece of crap it was. But although Joshua didn’t seem to mind at all, something about having him in my piece of crap van did make me feel a bit uneasy.

Back at my place, I took a good look around before letting Joshua too far into the house. No pot. No spirits. Just Cass and Mac. Happy to play with another dog, Cass bounced and twirled, taking off like a rocket along with Garbo, who, bless her heart, tried to keep up. Let’s just say bulldogs aren’t known for their speed or grace.

I took the paper with Jackson’s article out of my purse and set it on the kitchen table while Joshua played outside with the dogs. I wanted it to dry out so I could turn the page and finish the article without tearing it. I grabbed two bottles of waters and some brownies I’d baked the day before. I glanced outside, and watching the dogs and Joshua put a smile on my face. As he bent over to hug Cass, those stupid butterflies swarmed in my stomach. The same kind I got when Lucas was around.

And that was when I heard someone say my name. “Evie?”

I snapped around and Lucas was in my kitchen next to the fridge, just a few feet from me.

“Lucas! You startled me!” I lowered my voice to a loud whisper. The last thing I needed was my new boss thinking I was schizo or something.

“I’m sorry.” He came closer. “Who’s the guy?” He nodded toward Joshua playing with the dogs. Cass, sensing him inside with me, bolted towards the back door.

“He’s a friend and my boss at the bar. His dog needed some exercise. I invited him over so Cass could play with a new friend.”

I could see Joshua coming toward the house. I didn’t want Lucas to leave, but I also didn’t really want him there. It would be awkward, to say the least, especially since I wouldn’t be able to even acknowledge Lucas while Joshua was in the house.

“He can’t see me,” he said, an amused look on his face. “A friend, huh?”

I nodded. “Yes. I can have friends.”

“Sure you can. Look, I don’t want to hang around and get in the way. I have some stuff to do anyway.”

“When will you come back? I need to talk to you. Thing is…” I looked sheepishly at my feet. “I’m sorry about last night.”

He waved a hand at me. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m the sorry one. I crossed a line with you, and I know better.”

I did not like what I was hearing.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he continued. “But don’t worry. It won’t be long. Just wanted to let you know I’m still working hard on getting information for you.” He held up one of the eagle feathers from my desk and then was gone. No goodbye. Nothing.

I turned around and Joshua was striding into the kitchen. I tried to pull myself together. I wondered why Lucas had one of my feathers? He hadn’t asked to take one. I knew, though, it had something to do with Hannah. I sighed, knowing now was not the time or the place for mulling over moody ghosts.

“Cass is awesome! I’ve never seen Garbo play like that. Ever!” Josh was smiling broadly and full of energy.

Cass and Garbo circled behind him, out of breath, and headed to the water bowl. Mac had been in hiding while Cass was busy with her play date. Now he came out from whatever hole he had slunk into and walked right up to Garbo, hissing and clawing at the poor girl. Then ran away.

“Mac!” I yelled, horrified, and then turned to Joshua. “I am
so
sorry!” Garbo whimpered. “He’s a bit possessive about Cass.”

“I can see that,” Joshua said bending over to check on Garbo, chuckling to himself. “She’s fine. Between you and me,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “she’s kind of a baby.”

I handed him a bottle of water and as I did, he spotted the paper on the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I don’t think you want to read that,” I said. “It’s garbage. I didn’t even finish it.” But it was too late. Joshua bent over the counter and stared intently at the paper for a few minutes. When he finished he looked up at me.

“I can’t believe this. Who wrote this?” He looked at the paper again. “Jackson Owens? Who is this guy? I can’t believe he mentioned I was in prison! And to write what he did about you! What an ass!”

“Jackson used to be a regular at the bar. He wanted to do a documentary on Nick, or so he said.” I stood there shaking my head and then I jerked my eyes back over to Joshua. “Wait. What? You were in prison?” I immediately recalled the vision I had of him when we shook hands.

“You really didn’t read all of it, did you?”

“No.” But now I wished I had.

He handed the paper to me. I walked over to the table and sat down, my eyes rapidly scanning the page.

And now, the long lost son of Nick Gordin has returned from Africa
where he has spent time trying to cleanse his past after spending five years in prison for the second-degree murder of one his mother’s boyfriends. A mother, I might add, who stole Gordin from his fiancée thirty years ago and apparently forgot to tell her son for another thirty years who his daddy really was.

Like a game of Clue, there are plenty of potential suspects out there who might have had a hand in Nick’s death. It’s just a matter of putting the pieces together. Then again, maybe no one really cares what happened to a washed up actor who finished his days tending a dive bar.

I looked up and stared at Joshua for a few beats. “Murder?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

AFTER TOSSING JACKSON’S ARTICLE into a nearby recycling can, Joshua and I made our way out to the pool for some brownies and to wait for the dogs to catch a second wind. We both chewed the chocolaty goodness, not saying anything, until he finally broke the silence.

“I expect you’re wondering what happened … I mean, regarding the so-called murder and my time in prison.”

I nodded, if a bit hesitantly. “Look, Joshua. It’s not really any of my business. I am curious, but I don’t expect you to give me the whole story.”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, well, the thing is, I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of homicidal maniac, especially since we’ll be working together and all.” He took another swig of his water and gazed off into the distance.

“I was twenty and we were living in New York. I was going to NYU. I came home one night to see my mom and do some laundry,” he sighed. “She was dating this guy I didn’t like. He just didn’t treat her right. Kind of verbally abusive and Mom always seemed upset when he was around. Anyway, he was there that night when I got there. And…” he closed his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the memory. “This guy was beating her. I lost it and I threw a few punches. One landed real hard, the guy went flying back, hit his head on a counter, and hemorrhaged.” He paused, rubbing his face tiredly. “So yeah, I killed him.”

“You were protecting your mom. And while I don’t condone violence to stop violence, well, I can’t say I would have done any different.” I reached over and touched his hand, knowing full well I would see the same images I’d seen when we first met. I let my hand linger on his little longer than usual. He glanced over at me and smiled. I could tell some of the sadness had been erased. His eyes were brighter and his frown lifted. “Anyway, it was clearly an accident. I doubt you intended to kill the guy, right?”

Joshua nodded and continued his story. “That’s why the jury decided on a manslaughter verdict. I went to prison for five years. When I got out, I volunteered for the Red Cross. No matter the reason, killing someone leaves a horrible stain on your soul. It never leaves you, and I needed to do something good. I needed to give back in a way that went above and beyond.”

I nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“You know what? As awful as that time was, I can say with certainty it made me a better man. I used to have quite a temper, and although that guy was beating my mom, I know now I could have managed the situation differently.” He shrugged. “In any event, had I not killed that guy and ended up in prison for five years, I would never have gone to Africa, and I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.”

“You miss it? Africa?”

He nodded, smiling wistfully. “I do, but I realize now it was probably time for me to rejoin the world here and think about my future, having a family, that sort of thing. I couldn’t see raising a family in Africa. Too much upheaval and violence, at least where I was.”

“What do you plan to do now? I mean, obviously you have the bar, but is that what you want?”

He cocked his head to the side, looking like a particularly handsome little boy. “I’m not really sure yet. I love to cook. I was even thinking about culinary school and maybe expanding the bar into a restaurant. The problem with that is capital. I don’t have a way to fund it.”

I almost mentioned Simone, but decided against it for the moment. She had the money to back something like that, but I didn’t want to start throwing out a possible solution without the certainty she would follow through.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” I smiled.

Joshua smiled again and stretched sexily. “You are so different from most girls. Well,” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper, “from most girls here in L.A.”

I lowered my voice to match his. “That’s because I’m not what I seem. I’m from Texas, remember?” We smiled at each other silently for a long moment and just as it was starting to feel awkward, I took a quick, nervous sip of water. “Fact is, most girls I’ve seen out here are beautiful and…”

“Superficial,” he cut in.

I thought of Simone. “There are a few good eggs around.”

He stood suddenly, and at first I thought he was going to reach out and touch my face, the way his hand lifted, but instead he balled up his fist and gently grazed his knuckles across my head, back and forth. It felt like I’d suddenly gained a big brother.

“You’re a good egg.”

I stood and laughed. “You don’t know me that well!”

“I don’t need to. I can tell.”

Our eyes locked again and my stomach dropped into my toes. I don’t know what would have happened had Cass not dived into the pool, followed by a less graceful Garbo. The combined force of the two dogs hitting the water resulted in a mighty splash that doused Joshua and I from head to toe. We both started laughing, and the moment we’d shared was broken.

Joshua picked at his wet t-shirt. “I guess, we should dry off and head to the bar. It’s getting late.”

“Yep.” I grabbed the now-empty brownie platter and stepped back into my flip-flops. “Let me drop this stuff off in the kitchen, and I’ll grab you a dry towel.” I jerked my head around the side of the pool. “There’s a full bathroom and changing room just over there if you need some privacy.”

“Sounds good.” Joshua picked up the empty water bottles and followed me into the kitchen. “Why don’t you get a few extra towels and I can dry off these two mutts.”

After getting Joshua and the dogs settled, I quickly changed clothes in my room and ran the dryer over my head. I found myself thinking about Lucas and couldn’t help wondering when he’d be back and what he was up to. I liked Lucas. A lot. But Joshua was the real deal … as in
living
.

When I walked back into the kitchen, I noticed Joshua had retrieved the paper with Jackson’s article from the recycling bin. He didn’t hear or see me come in, and I watched him carefully fold it and stuff it into his back pocket. I thought it was kind of odd, but decided against saying anything. Maybe he didn’t want me reading the article again. Or he wanted to show it to his mom. Who knew.

In any case, Jackson was obviously a liar or, at the very least, prone to exaggeration. Look what he had written about me. Jerk!

I believed Joshua’s story about his prison stint. I simply couldn’t see him as a murderer. But I wondered, did he have a motive to kill Nick? As far as I knew, he’d only just found out Nick was his dad, and he’d literally stepped off the plane a few days ago, after Nick’s murder. But then unless I’d been the one picking him up at the airport, I had no way to prove he hadn’t been here in L.A. all along. And what if his anger issues hadn’t been resolved? What if he’d suspected Nick was mistreating his mom and decided to take matters into his own hands?

I rolled my eyes.
Come on, Evie. That’s enough of that.
Just because Jackson suspected everyone and their mother of killing Nick didn’t mean I had to. And the thought of anyone thinking Joshua could hurt a fly was just ludicrous. Friend or boss,
or
both, I liked Joshua. He was easy to talk to and easy on the eyes