There's Something About Marty (A Working Stiffs Mystery Book 3) (19 page)

Courtney shot me an apologetic smile. “They wanted pie, so I had to move you to a table up front.”

The table that Patsy was waving from was in Duke’s sight line.

Swell.
“Don’t worry about it.”

Fortunately, Mitch was sitting with his back to Duke.

But that meant that I’d have to sit with the distraction of a pissed off great-uncle in my line of sight, and worse, the police detective taking a seat at the counter.

Envisioning a future as Patsy’s personal piñata if I didn’t get my butt over to her table in the next two seconds, I ignored Steve’s cold stare and painted a smile on my face. “Well, hi, you two. It looks like we meet again.”

Mitch pumped my hand. “Always a pleasure.”

“Yes!” Patsy said with fake enthusiasm. “It was so fun to bump into you at the Grotto, but you and Mitch hardly had an opportunity to catch up. You know what? You should join us.”

And some people thought my mother was a bad actress. She was an Oscar contender compared to Patsy.

“Thanks! I’d love to.” I could feel my smile start to crack as Steve swiveled around and glared at me.

“Gosh, you don’t even have menus yet?” Probably because Courtney had been waiting for my arrival. “I’ll go grab some.”

I crossed the diner and reached for three laminated menus from behind the napkin holder in front of Steve. “Do you mind?” I whispered in his ear. “I’m having lunch with a coworker.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, that didn’t sound like a set-up at all.”

“Never mind that. Just turn around and eat.”

“I want to see you later,” he stated, sounding more like a cop than a friend.

“Maybe ask a little nicer next time and I’ll consider it.”

Lucille squeaked up to refill his coffee cup. “You two fighting?”

“No,” Steve and I said in unison as I headed back with the menus.

“Here we are.” As soon as I sat down on the bench seat next to Patsy it struck me that the menus presented a problem. The food that Mitch would be ordering did, too. The use of utensils, napkins—anything that might obstruct my view.

I folded my hands over the menus on the table in front of me. “I just hate trying to have a conversation when I’m eating, don’t you?”

Mitch gave me a blank look.

“So, let’s take this opportunity to catch up, like you suggested, Patsy.”

“Sounds good. You two catch up. I need to…uh…wash my hands anyway.”

I stood to let her slide out and then scooted over to the warm spot she had vacated. “So,” I said with what I hoped was a disarming smile. “Tell me how the two of you met.”

“Online actually.”

“Like in a chat room?”

“Online dating. With my schedule it’s the only way to go.”

Courtney brought us three waters. “Do you need a few minutes?”

I nodded, and she got the hint and disappeared to the table behind me. “So, how does the online dating thing work? You saw Patsy’s picture or something?”

“You never tried it? Oh, well of course you’re dating that doctor.”

No, no, no. We were not going to talk about Kyle, not with Steve sitting twenty feet away. “Nope, never tried it. So, tell me about it.”

Since Mitch Grundy was the kind of guy who wanted to explain how the watch was made when you asked for the time, I had to listen to a two-minute, blow-by-blow account of how he’d set up his profile.

I had to move the conversation along or Patsy was going to be back before I had the chance to ask any of the questions on the list she’d emailed me.

“The way I understand it is that interested parties will contact one another,” I said.

“Exactly. You get to know one another a little online and—”

“Then you set up dates.”

“Right. Like coffee or drinks.”

“So, let’s say you contacted someone in the last couple of weeks.” I waited for him to jump in and deny doing that, but he didn’t. “You’d meet the lady somewhere and have a casual mini-date.”

“You usually know within a few minutes if it’s gonna work or not. If not, at least you can enjoy a nice cup of coffee.” He winked. “Unlike the swill ol’ Duke serves.”

I lowered my voice. “I imagine it could get complicated. I mean what if you and Patsy had run into one of the other ladies when you were out that Saturday night?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realized you two were exclusive.”

He smiled like he had a secret. “She’s a special girl.”

Patsy was special all right, but she was wasting her time with this guy.

“Were your ears burning, honey?” he asked, gazing lovingly at her as she returned to the table.

Taking a seat she turned to me. “Should they have been?”

“We were just chatting about how the two of you met.” I handed her a menu.

“She asked me so many questions, if I didn’t know better I’d think that doctor fella might be in trouble.”

Oh, please stop talking about that stupid dinner!

“What was his name again?” Mitch asked. “It reminded me of a vegetable. Cabbage, I think.”

I shoved a menu in front of his face. “Speaking of cabbage, Duke does a mean patty melt with the perfect blend of beef and sauerkraut, so I know what I’m going to have.”

“Not cabbage—kale. Kyle! That’s it!” He tapped his temple. “Got a mind like a steel trap.”

I wished he’d shut his trap.

Seeing movement out of the corner of my eye, I expected to see Courtney coming over to take our order. Instead, it was Steve stalking toward the door.

Nothing about his demeanor suggested that he was anything other than a busy man—too busy to spare me a glance.

He had to have heard almost every word Mitch had said. Heck, half-deaf Gladys sitting across the room probably had heard him loud and clear.

Courtney stepped to our table, her order pad in hand. “Are you ready now?”

Not me. I’d lost my appetite.

“Okay, what was up with that lunch meeting?” Lucille asked the second after the door jingled shut behind Patsy and Mitch.

“Nothing. Just a lunch.” I handed her a ten-dollar bill for the patty melt I had barely touched.

“It didn’t look like nothing.” Leaning an elbow on the cash register as she gave me my change, she lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “It looked to me like you were putting him to the lie detector test.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Patsy didn’t need that rumor to spread, especially since she’d think it had come from me.

“You gonna tell me that you’re suddenly interested in online dating?”

I pocketed my change. “Maybe I was asking for a friend.”

Lucille’s eyes gleamed with predatory intent. “Which one?”

“Order up!” Duke barked at us.

Message received.
Get back to work.
“Like she’d want you to know.”

Squeaking away with a coffee carafe, she shook her head. “You’re no fun.”

One small crisis averted, one big one to go—Steve and how much he had heard.

I turned to leave and almost ran into Courtney on her way to pick up the lunch order waiting at the pass-through window.

“I feel horrible about not being able to get that table in the back for you,” she said.

“Not your fault.”

“Still, that was the type of conversation that needed more privacy.” The color of the strawberry milkshake a little kid was sucking down at the counter crawled into her cheeks. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”

I forced a smile. “Forget what you heard.”

“Oh, I just wanted to say that if you had more questions about online dating that I might be able to help you.”

“I don’t. Thanks anyway.”

I started for the door but Lucille blocked my path. “I might,” she said.

Sure. She just wanted to sink her teeth into whatever tasty morsels Courtney had to offer. “Since when?”

“Hey, look at the prospects around here.” Lucille pointed at Stanley, slurping his decaf while he read the paper. “The pickings are slim, so I’ve been thinking about expanding my horizons.”

Courtney nodded. “I was in the same boat. My sister kept nagging me to try the dating website she used, so finally I tried it a couple years back.”

Duke cleared his throat. “Order up!”

“Coming,” Courtney said, backing away from me.

Lucille grabbed her arm. “Not so fast. You were trolling local waters?”

Courtney blinked. “Huh?”

“She’s just looking for dirt,” I said. “Ignore her.”

Lucille frowned at me. “I beg your pardon, but how can I know if this would be money well-spent if I don’t ask about the pool of local talent?”

“If by local you mean within a thirty-mile radius, I’d agree that the pickings can be slim. There was only one man who I thought might work out, but he was involved with someone else.” The forty-something blonde squared her shoulders. “But at least I’ve already seen him here, so I’m over that initial awkwardness.”

“Who are we talking about, honey?” Lucille asked, following her to the pass-through window where Courtney loaded her arms with three orders of burgers and fries.

The younger woman whispered an answer, and then whisked away to deliver her order, leaving Lucille to turn to me with a smug look on her face.

“Well? Are you going to tell me or make me guess?”

She returned the carafe to the coffee station, and then pushed the kitchen door open. “Why don’t you step into my office for a moment.”

“Lucille, I don’t have a lot of time,” I said, feeling the heat of Duke’s stare as I entered his domain.

She dismissively waved me off. “You’ll want to make time for this.”

I followed her back to the butcher block table, where Lucille took a seat next to Aunt Alice.

“What’s this about?” Alice asked, rolling out dough for pie happy hour. She looked at me. “And why are you still here? Don’t you have a job to get back to?”

Her clock-watching husband was rubbing off on her. “Yes, and I’ll get going as soon as we’re done here.” I met Lucille’s gaze. “So, who’s the mystery man?”

Lucille folded her arms under her ample breasts. “Someone you were inquiring about at this very spot a week ago.”

My breath caught in my throat. “Bob Hallahan?”

She nodded. “Small world, huh?”

“Very.” Especially since I knew that Victoria had met Marty McCutcheon through an online dating service.

“Who are you two talking about?” Alice demanded.

“Courtney dated him for a while. No big deal.” At least it shouldn’t have been to anyone but me.

I kissed my aunt on the cheek. “I’m off.” To work, right after I had a few words with Courtney.

“See you tomorrow probably,” I said to Duke as I went by.

He pointed his spatula at me. “Try to make it a little later in the morning, like a normal person.”

I thought about the hide-a-bed I’d be trying to sleep on tonight. “I’ll do my best.” But
normal
felt like something out of my reach this week.

Stepping out of the kitchen, I found Courtney at the counter chatting with Stanley. I motioned toward the door and she followed me outside.

I looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Hope you don’t mind, but since I help out here Lucille thought I should know about Bob.”

A boldfaced lie, but I didn’t want to make it difficult on Lucille if Courtney thought she had told her something in confidence.

“That’s okay. I’m pretty much over it.”

Since her eyes were misting I seriously doubted that. “You dated two years ago?”

“More like a year and a half ago.”

Which was close to the time that Marty and Victoria would have started dating. Coincidence? I had a hard time believing in any coincidences where anyone with the last name of McCutcheon was concerned.

Courtney smiled, sweet and sad. “Actually, today was the first time I’ve seen him since I moved to town.”

“Where were you living before?”

“Near Gibson Lake. And now you know another reason why I joined that dating website. There are no eligible bachelors living out there.”

Maybe, but I knew of one recently widowed woman.

Could she have been the woman Bob had fallen in love with?

“If you don’t mind me asking—you know, for my friend—what was the site you used?”

“Secondchances dot com. Its clientele is typically a little older and all the men I met were either widowed or divorced.”

Just like Marty, and Bob, and Victoria.

∗ ∗ ∗

“So, he
is
a player,” Patsy said after I sat down with her in the breakroom and told her that I didn’t think Mitch was ready to date anyone exclusively.

“No, he’s a salesman. I didn’t have time to ask, but did he sign up with this site fairly recently?”

“Last month some time.”

Since long-time bachelor Mitch Grundy prided himself in prompt delivery after the sale, I suspected that he was getting too much action to want to cut off his supply chain anytime soon.

I had absolutely no desire to broach the subject of sex with Patsy, so I decided to give it a wide berth. “It may just be too soon for him to commit.”

“His loss.” She pushed out of her chair, holding her head high. “I am sorry though that he kept going on about Dr. Cardinale.”

Not nearly as sorry as I was.

“If that causes you any difficulty with Detective Sixkiller, I regret putting you in that position.”

An apology from Patsy—something I’d never expected to hear. It barely made a dent in the suckiness of today, but I was grateful for it nonetheless.

She jutted her pointy chin at me. “Now, let’s get back to work, shall we? And never speak of this again.”

The two of us never talking about the events of today wouldn’t make them go away. In my case, it would only make it worse.

I sent Steve a text.
Can we talk?

∗ ∗ ∗

Sitting on Steve’s front porch with my head in my hands, I looked up to see Gram standing on her sidewalk.

“Honey, you should come home and have some dinner.”

Since Steve hadn’t responded to any of my texts, I knew I needed to be there when he came home. “I will. Later.”

She pulled her sweater tight across her chest. “Brrr. It looks like a storm is moving in. Don’t you want a coat?”

Yes. My pullover had been perfectly adequate when I had gotten off work an hour ago, but now that the wind had picked up, I was freezing. And had no intention of moving from this porch. “I’m fine.”

“Whatever is going on between the two of you needs to stop. For both your sakes.”

I didn’t think my grandmother meant that the way it sounded, but somewhere deep within my gut I knew she couldn’t have been more right.

“I know, Gram. Go inside and get warm.”

An hour and a half later, Steve pulled up in his Crown Victoria. With rigor mortis setting in, I labored to push to my feet.

He looked at me long and hard through the sprinkles dotting his windshield.

I shivered as if we were in the middle of an ice storm. “Yes, I know. You’re pissed.”

“What are you doing?” he asked when he finally got out of the car.

What does it look like I’m doing?
“Waiting for you.”

A shadow from his porch light cut a cruel slash across the planes of his cheekbones, feeding my trepidation about how well the speech I’d been practicing would be received.

He didn’t make eye contact as he climbed the steps of his front porch. “I’m too tired to do this tonight.”

“I’d really like to talk to you.”

“Yeah? Well, I wanted to talk to you, too,” he said, unlocking the door. “Earlier.”

“I know and I’m sorry. Can I come in?”

His back to me, he stiffened. “Not now. Go home, Char.”

“But—”

He stepped inside and gently closed the door in my face.

∗ ∗ ∗

When I got to Eddie’s Place fifteen minutes later, I was relieved to see that half the chairs were empty. No games on the flat screens, no guys in matching bowling shirts toasting one another in celebration. Even the classic rock typically pulsing throughout the bar had been turned down a couple of decibels, enabling me to hear the rumble of bowling balls from the other side of the brick wall.

I could also hear Rox curse the instant she saw me.

“That bad, huh?” I said when I plopped down at the far end of the bar.

She spun a coaster in front of me like a blackjack dealer. “Honey, you look like death warmed over.”

I pushed back the bangs that the blustery evening drizzle had plastered to my forehead. “Probably because that’s how I feel.”

“Chardonnay?”

“Do you have any hot cocoa? I’m freezing.”

“Is it that cold out?”

While she prepared my drink, I told her about spending the last couple of hours camped out on Steve’s front porch.

Rox’s eyes widened. “He slammed the door in your face?”

I sipped my cocoa with the peppermint schnapps my favorite mixologist had stirred in. “No, no, it wasn’t a slam.” But the message he’d sent had been loud and clear. “He just didn’t want to see me tonight.” And possibly tomorrow and the day after that.

Rox leaned her elbows on the polished oak bar separating us. “I’m sure he needs a little time. You two have had a rough couple of days. Let him cool off and it will be fine.”

“No, I screwed this up.” I stared into the murky darkness of my drink. “I let things get out of hand that night with Kyle—”

“Only because I pushed you into it.”

“You didn’t know. Just check that off as another screw-up on my part.”

Criminy, I’d been on a roll lately.

I heard my phone buzz and quickly pulled it from my tote.

“Text from Steve?” Rox asked.

“Donna. Wants to get together this weekend. I’ll answer her later.” I shook my phone at Rox. “See how I am? I put off my friends so much I’m surprised that any of you even want to be with me.”

“You’ve been busy with Steve and your mom, and we get that.” She leveled her gaze at me. “So stop being so hard on yourself.”

No, I’d been busy pushing and pulling everyone around me, using them to fit whatever my need was at the moment—Steve, Rox, Kyle, Donna, family members, coworkers, even suspects. How magnanimous of me. I was an equal opportunity manipulative bitch.

I pushed my phone away and grabbed the glass mug in front of me. “Well, I won’t be busy with Steve tonight.” Not in any sense of the word.

Rox patted my hand. “It’s going to be okay.”