4 Arch Enemy of Murder (8 page)

He smiled and put her in a chokehold. “Ready to get this evening started?” he addressed Travis.

“M-maybe,” Travis stammered.

Tosh reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Relax. Apparently she only breathes fire when people with money aren’t around. Lacy and I have got you covered.”

“What?” Travis asked, thoroughly confused.

“Ignore him,” Lacy said. “Tonight is going to be great.” Her tone and smile lacked conviction.

The door opened and Riley poked her head out. Lacy had to admit that her sister certainly cleaned up well, especially when she was wearing one of Lacy’s more expensive dresses without permission. “I’m late for the pre-date porch meeting,” she said.

Travis twittered nervously and pressed his hand to his stomach.

Riley’s eyes landed on Tosh and narrowed appraisingly. “You must be the righteous reverend I’ve heard so much about.”

“And you’re the sinister sister,” Tosh replied.

“Alliteration already, and we’re just getting started,” Lacy said.

“It’s never too early for awkward grammar jokes, apparently,” Riley said.

Tosh opened his mouth. Lacy put her arm around his waist and gave it a squeeze. “Riley, this is Travis. Travis works at the jail. He’s on the fast track to sergeant for sure.”

Travis smiled at Riley like a five year old face to face with Spiderman for the first time. In return, Riley bestowed her most dazzling smile. “Hello, Travis. How very nice to meet you. Any friend of Lacy’s is…well, I’m sure you’re very nice despite that.” She held out her hand. Travis stared at it. Undaunted, she picked up his hand and shook. “It’s so nice to meet a man with ambition.” She glanced at Tosh. “How many members does Grandma’s church have now? Seventy five? A hundred?”

“A hundred and fifty,” Lacy answered for him. “It’s grown a lot since Tosh came.”

“How nice,” Riley said. “Soon they’ll probably be able to afford minimum wage.”

Tosh snickered, probably because he could buy the church and all its members a hundred times over. “They pay me just enough. What is it you do again?”

Riley’s eyes widened in surprise as his arrow hit its mark. So she was sensitive about her lack of job. Interesting. Travis looked between them and rubbed his stomach. “We should go. Travis made a reservation at the Greek place,” Lacy said. The town’s most swanky steak place was owned by a nice Greek family who for some reason refused to put anything Greek on the menu. Instead they made it as American as possible, even serving apple pie with a small flag stuck on top for dessert.

“Great. Steak sounds wonderful,” Riley said. She led the charge to the car.

“Does she eat it raw?” Tosh asked in a stage whisper to Lacy. She glanced at Travis to see how he would take this insult to his beloved, but he seemed to be concentrating on not making a run for the bushes again.

“You’re going to have to be nice if we’re going to survive this night. I have to make sure everything goes smoothly or else.” She pointed to Travis and mimicked sticking her finger down her throat.

Tosh sighed. “How can you ask me to be nice to her when I know everything she’s done to you?”

“Think of her as someone else, someone unrelated to me,” Lacy said.

“I’ll try,” Tosh promised. “And I’ll drive,” he added to the rest of the group.

“Oh, is this your car?” Riley said, stopping short in front of his sedan. “It’s so tiny. How many clowns can you fit in there?”

“Hop in, and we’ll see,” Tosh replied.

Riley jumped into the back and slammed the door. Travis slid in beside her, popped another mint, and rested his head on the window.

“Oh, boy,” Lacy muttered.

Per Travis’s instructions, Lacy kept the conversation ball rolling in the car. She hit on every innocuous topic of conversation she could think of until at last she resorted to discussing the World Series.

“And that’s why I think the Buccaneers are going all the way this year,” she finished speaking as they pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot.

“Because Heinz makes good ketchup,” Tosh clarified.

Lacy nodded.

“I don’t know why ESPN hasn’t factored that into more of their analysis. Also, they’re the Pittsburgh Pirates, not the buccaneers. And they’ve had the longest losing streak in history.”

“That’s all about to change. I have a feeling,” Lacy said.

“Your feelings based on food products have never been wrong before,” Tosh said. They shared a smile as they stepped from the car. Behind them, Travis was pale and clammy, and Riley was uncharacteristically quiet. Lacy had the feeling that her sister was studying her interactions with Tosh to better formulate her next attack.

They walked into the restaurant, and Lacy became the one who was speechless because Michael was there, and he was playing violin. He gave her a little salute with his bow and continued playing for the table he was standing next to. She had never heard him play before. She wasn’t a music expert, but to her he sounded amazing. Then again, the violin was such a soulful instrument that even the worst song could sound melodic if played correctly.

“Isn’t that the guy who makes guitars?” Tosh whispered.

Lacy nodded.

“What’s he doing here?”

She shrugged, but she could probably guess. He had said he needed money. The fact that he was playing for tips was a little sad. But just when she began to ponder giving him a break on his first month’s rent, he began to play a lively rendition of “Torn Between Two Lovers,” and sent a wink in Lacy’s direction.

She did her best to ignore him, even when he moved closer and began playing “Secret Lover,” so that more than a few heads turned in their direction.

“I love this guy,” Riley said.

“I don’t,” Tosh said.

“I’m going to kill him,” Lacy said.

“Who is he?” Travis asked. Everyone turned to him in surprise because it was the first words he had uttered in almost a half an hour.

“Just another of the many men in my sister’s fan club,” Riley said. “You’ve certainly cornered the market on lonely small-town losers.” She cast a not-so-subtle look at Tosh.

“Riley, that’s neither true nor nice,” Lacy admonished.

“Really? Because so far I’ve seen exactly four men in this town under the age of eighty, and they’re all lined up at your door, present company excluded, Travis.” She rested her hand on his forearm and gave it a pat. He started at her hand as if he had never seen one before and then looked around for the bathroom.

“I asked her out when she first came back,” he blurted.

“Travis!” Lacy exclaimed. “Not helping.”

“It seemed like a lie not to fess up,” Travis said. He downed a sip of water and used his cloth napkin to dab at his clammy forehead. “Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Let’s order,” Tosh said. “Maybe stuffing food in her mouth will work to shut her up,” he added behind his menu.

“That only works on one member of the family,” Riley said. “Breadsticks, Sis?” She passed the basket to Lacy who grabbed a breadstick and took a mouth-stuffing bite.

Tosh gave her a look and shook his head. “What? I’m hungry,” she mumbled around a wad of bread.

“You were born hungry,” Riley said.

“Enough.” Tosh smacked his menu on the table and glared.

“Or what? I’m so tired of all the males of the species leaping to Lacy’s defense. ‘Ooh, I must protect her from big, mean Riley, the witch.’ Did it ever occur to you that there are two sides to our story? That I have as much baggage and anger as she does?”

“No,” Tosh said. “But from the moment I met you, you’ve been giving her a hard time. Maybe when no one is looking, she holds you down and pummels you. I don’t know. All I know is what I’ve seen, and what I’ve seen is you putting her down and being snide. It’s beneath you. Grow up, worry about your own life, and stop comparing yourself to Lacy.”

For a second, Lacy felt sorry for her. Few people had ever put Riley in her place, and especially not when she was already vulnerable and down on her luck. Her mouth puckered, her eyes watered, and then she changed courses. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. She picked up her menu and hid behind it until the waiter arrived.

Tosh picked up his menu again. Travis gave his stomach a reassuring pat and perused the soup section of the menu. Lacy went for the remainder of her breadstick. There was something off about Riley’s quick agreement and subsequent silence.

The waiter arrived to take their order. He was part of the owner’s family, a handsome Greek man who spoke with a heavy accent. “Do you think it would be possible to put tzatziki on the menu as an appetizer?” Lacy asked. She loved the garlicky cucumber yogurt dip.

“No, no tzatziki. We good Americans, serve American food only,” the waiter said.

“But I really think there could be a place for a few Greek menu items. People love Greek food;
I
love Greek food. It would bring something new and different to the town.”

“No, we only make American food. We very patriotic. Immigration no come here.” He gave a wary look around the restaurant as if he expected a raid at any moment.

Tosh stepped on Lacy’s foot, a signal to let the conversation drop. “Just wondering. I’ll have the New York strip, medium.”

He nodded as he wrote her order, finished with the table, and then he was gone. “Whose turn is it to pay tonight?” Tosh asked as he stole the last inch of her breadstick and tossed it in his mouth.

“Yours now,” Lacy said. “I wanted that.”

“That was your second breadstick. Technically, it was mine, and I wanted it, too,” Tosh said.

“Sorry,” Lacy said. “Do you want me to ask for some more?”

“No, I don’t think it’s safe for you to talk to the waiter anymore,” Tosh said. “I think he’s already paranoid that you have immigration on speed dial. What do you suppose happened to them to make them so scared of the government?”

“I don’t know, but I wish they weren’t. This town could use some good baklava.”

“The town?”

“Okay, I could use some good baklava,” Lacy confessed.

“Your altruism knows no bounds,” Tosh said.

“Neither does her appetite,” Riley said, and then put up her hands in surrender. “That slipped out. Sorry.”

Tosh gave her a disapproving glance over his menu. Travis used his menu to fan his face, and Lacy glanced longingly at the empty bread basket.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy foursome?” Michael asked. He clapped Travis on the shoulder. “You’re looking a mite green there, mate. Could it be because you’re attempting a date with the boss? A man needs a few more years under his belt before he’s ready for that.” He gestured toward Lacy and let his gaze rest on Riley. “Am I right, curly?”

“Don’t look at me, Michael. I’ve reformed. I speak only kindness and good cheer here, thanks to my new friend Pastor Holier-Than-Thou.

“Sorry, lass, but until you’ve had an Irish nun rap your knuckles with a ruler, you have no room to complain,” Michael replied. He turned his attention to Lacy. “You’re the spitting image of Sister Mary Theresa. Have I ever told you?”

“We’re not Irish,” Riley interjected.

“But,” Michael began, but Lacy interrupted him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Yo-Yo Ma?”

“Yo-Yo Ma is a cellist, love, but never let it be said that Michael Donnelly can’t take a hint. I’ll play you out.” He began playing a loud and lively version of “Maneater” as he walked away with a wink.

“Stick to the classics, Itzhak Perlman,” Lacy hissed to his retreating backside.

“He’s fun,” Tosh said, his dry tone dripping with sarcasm.

“He is,” Riley agreed, although she sounded sincere. “He has this thing called a sense of humor. You two might want to give it a try sometime.”