Mug Shot (23 page)

When he had finished checking in, he glanced around the lobby, as if looking for someone. I ducked down further behind my book and waited. He went and sat down on one of the couches in the lobby, thankfully facing toward the doors and away from me. He was definitely waiting for someone. I stayed put, tingling with anticipation and hoping that my voyeuristic stakeout tonight would finally net me something useful.

We waited for a good fifteen minutes, and in that time, I got so bored I started reading the decoy book I had in front of my face. When I realized I hadn't been paying attention to my spying, I snapped my head up and found that there was a petite blonde standing next to Kent. He picked up his bags and smiled broadly at her, gesturing toward the elevators. Hmm. Kent had himself a little something on the side, too. When his piece of tail turned to walk across the lobby and I saw her face, my mouth dropped open in shock. It was Savannah.

What the hell? Savannah and
Kent
? I simply couldn't wrap my mind around it, but there she was, getting on the elevator with him, going upstairs to…I shuddered. I didn't even want to think about it. Was
everyone
cheating in this town?

A moment later someone tapped me on the shoulder. My mind still reeling, I turned to find a ruggedly handsome man standing right next to me. Could my horrible day finally be looking up? I'd always had a bit of a weakness for guys with manly beards. He was tall and well built, too. There was something about him, though, that reminded me of the cop guy who was following Kent earlier.

Oh, shit.

I quickly put down my book and smiled at him. “Hi there.”

He nodded his head toward the lobby. “Why have you been following Kent Fielding around this evening?”

“What?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “I'm here to meet a friend, but I'd be happy to ditch her if you'd like to have a drink with me instead.”

Giving me a stern look, he said, “Cut the crap.”

Unfortunately, this guy was immune to my charms. “There's no crap. Who are you anyway, that you think you have the right to be in my business?”

He put his badge on the table beside me and slid it toward me. “My name is John Stafford. I'm a police officer, and you're interfering in my investigation.”

If I had a nickel for every time a cop said that to me…

I pushed the badge back toward him. “You can't arrest me for taking a drive around town and reading a book in a public place.”

Stafford glanced down at my finger with the splint and then at the side of my face. Realization dawned in his eyes. “You're the one he beat up. Is that why you're following him? Do you have some kind of misguided vendetta?”

“You've got the wrong girl.” I had wasted all night trailing these idiots, and I wasn't giving in easily.

“Are we really going to do this? Because I could just call Hamilton now and let him come over and deal with you.”

How did he know I had a connection to Ryder? I frowned. “That would be a bad idea.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Are you telling me how to do my job?”

Suddenly exhausted, I realized there was nothing more I could do tonight besides go home. I sighed. “Never mind. I'm out of here.”

After tossing and turning all night, I got up and went in early to work. By myself, I rolled out the unholy amount of dough Pete and I had made yesterday, cut it into star shapes, and then started baking. The kitchen was already covered in flour, cookie sheets, and dough scraps by the time the staff arrived. Camille and Wayne were the only ones scheduled to work this morning, so I had Wayne help me make cookies and left Camille out front to handle all of the customers. Well, all one of them. Rhonda of all people came in to buy some coffee on her day off. Even Gertie didn't show up today, not that I blamed her.

I was sitting on the couch, taking a break from cookie baking, when Ryder stormed in the front door and headed straight for me.

He threw a copy of the
Nashville Gazette
onto the table in front of me and bellowed, “Juliet, did you have anything to do with this?”

He was good at his job, and sexy as hell when he was mad. Even though we weren't meant to be, the sight of him could still get me hot and bothered. I looked at the front page of the paper, and not surprisingly, the headline read “Bastidas Enterprises Offers More Bang for Your Buck.” Wolfe totally stole the joke I had used when I emailed him yesterday, but it was worth it. For once, he actually kept my name out of it, calling me only a “credible source.”

Figuring I couldn't slip anything past Ryder, I saw no point in lying. I shrugged. “It's not like it's a secret. A lot of people know.”

“If it's not a secret, then it wouldn't be front page news, now would it?”

“Not my problem. After getting up close and personal with that loser the other night, I saw it as my duty to warn the unsuspecting women of Nashville about him.”

“You realize you just ruined a man's business,” he pointed out, his anger barely contained.

“I say he ruined his
own
business when he began boning his customers.” As a fake customer of his, I was appalled by the way he came on to me. Granted, I encouraged it, but he was still a total sleaze. “And on the flip side, this article may actually
help
his business, if there are women out there looking for that kind of thing.”

“Juliet…” he said through gritted teeth.

“I feel no remorse. I sent Don Wolfe one email. That's it. He took it and ran with it.”

“It's libel.”

I scoffed, “The hell it is! One, it's true, therefore not libel. Two, I didn't write the article, so it's not on me even if it were libel, which it isn't. If you came over here to arrest me, Detective, I'm afraid you wasted a trip.”

He glared at me.

I said, “Besides. No one reads the
Gazette,
anyway.”

Ryder pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I only have your best interest in mind. You can't go around poking your nose in other people's business and not expect to feel some backlash. I mean, you got beat up because you couldn't keep that beautiful mouth of yours shut.”

Beautiful? If he was trying to confuse me, it was working. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “I'm not going to quit causing trouble until Pete is exonerated and out of jail. I'm sorry if it displeases you, Detective, but that's how it is.”

He looked away, his anger evident in the set of his jaw. “I don't know what to do to get it through your head that what you're doing could get you killed.”

I stood up. “At least I'm doing something for the innocent man sitting in jail. That's more than I can say about anyone else around here. Goodbye, Ryder.” Without looking back, I stalked straight to the office and slammed the door.

Something about Abigail had been grating on me since last night. If Jenny Vaughn knew about Bastidas, then there's no way Cecilia hadn't told her own sister. Then again, she hadn't told Stan, but they didn't get along and barely spoke. The only conversation I'd had with Abigail was when she was blazed that day Pete dragged me to Delta's house with him.

While my cookies were baking, I texted Savannah to ask for Abigail's number. She immediately responded and tried to start a conversation with me, but I didn't know quite what to say to her after seeing her with Kent last night, so I didn't text her back. As her friend, I felt like I should make an attempt to talk to her about whatever she was going through, but one problem at a time. I blocked my outgoing caller ID and called Abigail, pretending to be Bastidas's secretary.

When Abigail answered, I said, “Hello, Mrs. Fielding. Mr. Bastidas wanted me to call and invite you to a late lunch with him today.” To make it seem more legit, I added, “He'd like to further discuss the conversation you had last night about investing in his business.”

She took the bait, and I rattled off a time and place to meet.

I had a couple of hours until I had to leave to be in place to “bump into” Abigail on her fake lunch date with Bastidas, so I bit the bullet and called Savannah.

“Hey, girl!” she said, her voice as chipper as ever. Maybe this thing with Kent was making her happy. I still didn't like it.

“Hey, um…I know this is probably none of my business, and I know you're busy getting ready for your party, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“What? You can talk to me about anything. You know that.”

“Now, I'm not judging…but…I saw you last night at the Omni with Kent.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Oh.”

I quickly backpedaled. “I'm so sorry for bringing it up, but I just…Carl is so sweet…and you two are so good together. I mean, it's not my place to say, but—”

“Don't apologize, Juliet. You're absolutely right. Carl and I have been going through a rough patch, and I went to the Omni intending to…you know…with Kent. But I couldn't go through with it. I guess I needed something to knock some sense into me. When things started getting a little too real up in Kent's room, I hightailed it out of there. Promise me you won't say anything to Carl.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I said, “I promise. I'm just so happy to hear nothing happened. Besides, in my opinion, there's nothing to tell. You had a lapse in judgment, but ultimately you did the right thing. I'm proud of you. Not a lot of people have that kind of willpower.”

“Thanks, I guess. Well, I hate to cut you off, but this party isn't going to happen if I don't light a fire under my crew here. The linens and table service I ordered were supposed to be here an hour ago, so everything is running behind.”

“I'll let you get back to it, then. I'll see you tonight. Can't wait. I…um…I'll be coming alone.”

“Oh, honey. Things didn't work out with Ryder?”

I sighed. “No. It's over. I'm fine, though. We'll talk soon.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Since we had no lunch crowd at all, I had Camille come back and help Wayne and me with the cookies. With three of us working, it didn't take terribly long to slather some raspberry jam on the cookies and assemble the finished product. It was nearly time for me to meet Abigail.

I said to them, “I'm going to leave you to box up the cookies and wait until Carl Worthington comes here to pick them up. He should be here in an hour or so. We haven't had any traffic all day, so once he comes in, you can close up shop for the day.”

Camille asked, “Is Java Jive going to close…permanently?”

“I don't know, Camille. It's a very real possibility. I'm sorry I don't have a better answer for you,” I replied sadly.

I went to the office to change clothes, and just as I was about to leave, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, Ryder was standing there, fuming mad, again. He walked in and slammed the door behind him.

“What the hell were you thinking following Kent Fielding around last night?” he demanded.

I was getting a little tired of him barging in here and yelling at me. “Oh, did my new cop friend tattle on me after all?”

“Stafford was keeping you safe. After Fielding assaulted you…I had a tail put on him.”

“Oh.” Ryder had acted like there was nothing that could be done about what Kent did to me, but evidently he did something. I was touched.

“He figured out we had someone on him. Somehow he lost our tail earlier today and went and beat the hell out of Alejandro Bastidas.” He glared at me pointedly.

“What, am I supposed to feel bad about that? Kent beat on me, too, and I'm still standing.”

Grimacing, he replied, “After that article, Bastidas will be lucky if every guy in town doesn't come after him.”

“Maybe he should have thought of that before he started seducing all of their wives.”

Ryder ignored my comment. “I came over here to warn you about Fielding. We've been looking for him, but he's in the wind.”

“Okay, thanks for the warning.” I glanced at my watch. “If that's all, I need to go. I'm meeting someone for lunch.”

“Who?” he asked suspiciously.

I wasn't about to tell him the truth. I thought for a moment and purposely came up with a name that would get under his skin. “Stan.”

It worked. His face darkened. “Until we find Fielding, I'm not letting you out of my sight.”

“What?” I exploded. “No. Just…no. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself.”

He grabbed my arm, holding my broken finger in front of my face. “Right. You do such a good job of that.”

His touch, although rough, still sent a spark through me. It was going to take a while to get over him, and it would probably be a lot easier if he wasn't always getting up in my business.

Wrenching my arm free of his grasp, I retorted, “You're only following me because you can't get enough of me.”

He took a step closer. “Is that so?”

I stood my ground, even though being this close to him was making me sweat a bit. “Yeah. Just make sure you don't get too jealous when you're spying on my
date
.” Flipping my hair for emphasis, I stormed out the door, Ryder on my heels.

I knew I was playing with fire, goading Ryder about having a date with Stan, which of course was a total lie. My hope was that Ryder wouldn't want to see us together and therefore stay in his car rather than follow me into the restaurant. He'd blow his top if he found out I was going there to grill Abigail, plus I didn't want him interfering.

I drove the few blocks over to West End to the little Italian place where I'd told Abigail to meet Bastidas. Ryder followed right behind me, parking several spaces away. I sat in my car until after Abigail got there, figuring I'd let her get settled and maybe even order a drink before I ambushed her. Maybe that way it would be harder for her to get away.

Taking a deep breath, I marched into the restaurant, told the hostess I was meeting someone there, and walked straight to Abigail's table. When I got close, I stopped and exclaimed, “Oh, Abigail, hi! I hope you're feeling well after everything that's happened this week.”

Her face almost pulled into a smile for me. Now that Stan and I had called it quits, it was quite possible she no longer had any use for me. “Yes, thank you for your concern, Janet.”

“It's Juliet. And your mother? How is she?”

“Not well.”

Delta wasn't terribly well before, at least not mentally. This conversation was not going quite as I'd planned. The way I saw it, the killer had to be either Abigail, her husband, or her lover. If that was true, then she probably knew who did it. I needed to rattle her to get her to talk.

I shook my head sadly. “I can't help thinking about poor Cecilia and her baby. Such an awful, tragic loss. And have you heard that the police found some kind of evidence that her lover killed her? Do you know Alejandro Bastidas?”

She hadn't been listening to me too closely, but when I said his name, her head snapped up. “Excuse me…did you say Alejandro?”

“Yes, the baby's father.”

“WHAT?”

People were starting to stare. I didn't care, though. I had her. “Yeah. It wasn't Pete's baby. You didn't know that?”

She began shaking. “That's…that's absurd.”

“Cecilia told Pete it was the other guy's baby right before she died. He told me.”

“That's a lie!”

“Ask Jenny Vaughn. She knew Cecilia was seeing Alejandro.”

Seeming hurt, Abigail choked out, “She knew…and I didn't?”

I replied innocently, “Oh, that's odd. I wonder why Cecilia didn't tell you about him. Were the two of you not that close?”

“We were
sisters
. We shared everything.” Obviously.

“I'm sure Cecilia had her reasons for hiding her relationship from you. Know what's worse, though? I've heard the police think Alejandro killed Cecilia because he didn't want the kid. Sick, right?”

“Where did you get your information?”

Hmm. That was a tricky one, because I was totally making everything up, at least the part about the evidence against Bastidas. Trying to cover, I shrugged. “Oh, you know how men are when you show them a good time. They'll tell you nearly anything during pillow talk, even cops.”

All of the color drained from her face, and her eyes glazed over. She muttered to herself, “But…but he couldn't possibly have killed her. That was the night he came over and took care of me…He was so caring…He couldn't have…” She covered a sob with her hand.

Damn. Her crazy muttering seemed fairly truthful. Two of my three suspects having the same alibi wasn't the ideal situation. However, it was safe to assume that Abigail was indeed at home that night, given the fact that she had just been released from the hospital earlier in the day.

“You and Alejandro were together that night?”

She nodded.

“Why do I think that's not the alibi either of you gave the police?”

“We couldn't…Wait. Why am I telling this to
you
?”