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Authors: Marja McGraw

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Vintage Restaurant - Los Angeles

Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole (17 page)

BOOK: Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole
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Chapter Twenty-nine

 

Chris kept a flashlight behind the desk and I saw the light come on after only a couple of seconds.

“Who screamed?” I called out.

“I did,” a woman’s voice said, sounding embarrassed.  “Sorry.  I was bending over to pick up my napkin and hit my head on the table.  Scared myself half to death.” 

“Everybody stay where you are,” Chris said, “and we’ll bring you candles.”

I’d already started looking for the box we kept the candles in and found it right where it should have been.  George began passing out glass globes with candles in them and Susan followed behind, lighting them.

“Chris,” I said, looking out the front door, “no one else’s lights are out.  What do you think is going on?”

“I don’t know.  I’ll go check the fuse box.  You stay here and make sure the customers are okay.”

Flashlight in hand, he headed for the rear of the restaurant
.   The fuse box was located outside the back door to my office.

I stopped at one of the closest tables.  “Everything okay here?”

“It’s actually kind of romantic,” a woman answered.  Her husband grunted in response.

I smiled.  “If you need anything, please let us know.”

“We’re fine,” she replied, patting her husband’s hand.

He tipped his head and studied her.  “You look a lot younger in candlelight.”

I cringed, thinking he was about to catch it.

“So do you,
Dear,” she said good-naturedly.  “And I can’t see how bald you are.”

They both laughed and I knew everything was okay.

The lights didn’t come back on while I made the rounds, and Chris didn’t return.  I was beginning to worry.  After checking at a couple more tables, I decided I’d better go look for him.

“George, will you and Susan cover things while I go see what’s keeping Chris?”

“Sure,” he said, signaling Susan to join him.  I pulled a second flashlight out of the Reception Desk drawer while they were huddled together in the dining area.

Passing
the doorway to the lounge, I saw Daniel had pulled candles out from under the bar for the patrons.  Things were going smoothly considering it was a moonless night and it was black as pitch without the lights – or so I thought.

Arriving in the kitchen I found Chef Luis and
Phillip, the sous chef, helping Chris sit down.

“What happened?” I said,
rushing over to my husband.

“I don’t know,” Luis replied.  “I heard a noise and went out back to check it out.  I found Chris lying on the ground and heard a car pulling out of the parking lot.”

“Chris?  Are you okay?” I asked.  “What happened?”

“Give me a minute,” he replied,
sounding angry and rubbing the back of his head.

I turned to Luis, but he shrugged his shoulders.  Turning, he pulled a towel out of a drawer and handed it to Chris.

Checking the back of Chris’s head I saw blood, and asked Luis to moisten the towel.  While I waited impatiently for Chris to say something, I dabbed at his head.  He winced and pulled the towel out of my hand to look at it.

“Son of a – ”

“What
happened
?” I asked, no longer able to hold my tongue.

“I went out back to check the fuse box, but before I could open it someone hit me
on the head, hard. I fell down on my knees.  I couldn’t even defend myself.  All I could do was wait for my head to clear.  Whoever it was really rang my bell.  It took a couple of minutes to get my bearings back.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No.  It was a hit and run.”

“Luis, you said you heard a car leaving?” I asked.

“Yes.  It sounded like they were in a hurry, too.”

“I heard a noise not long before the lights went out,” I said, “and when I went out back to check it out, there was a car pulling into the parking lot.”

“Do you remember what kind of car?” Chris asked.

“Not really.  I wasn’t paying that much attention.  Luis, did you see the car?”

“No, I just heard it, and then I found Chris on the ground.  I decided it was more important to check on him than to look for the car.”

“Of course,” I said.
  “I think we’d better head for the hospital, Bogey Man.  You need to have yourself checked out.”

“I’m fine – just pissed off.”

“Honey, you could have a concussion or something.”

“I said, I’m
fine!
  Let it go.”

While we argued about whether or not to take a trip to the hospital, Phillip headed outside
.  Within moments the lights came back on.

“Thanks, Phillip,” I said, when he returned.

“Yeah,” he said.  “Someone had to do it.”

“What’s going on in here?”

I turned at the sound of Lila’s voice.

“Someone attacked Chris, and now I’m trying to talk him into going to the hospital.  He doesn’t want to go.”

Lila closed her eyes and said, “Lord, I pray that you’ll keep Chris and Pamela safe, and that Chris will quit being pig-headed and let Pamela drive him to the hospital.”

I stopped what I was doing and folded my hands in prayer.  “Yes, Lord,” I said.

“Father,” Lila continued, “I ask in Jesus’ name that you heal Chris’s wound if she can’t talk him into the trip.  And – ”

“Thank you, Lila,” Chris said, “I’m ready to go to the hospital.  You
two can stop praying now.”

I smiled at this woman I’d come to admire so much.

“Thank you, Lord!  You work so
fast
sometimes.  Amen.”  Lila was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

I saw that Nate had followed Lila into the kitchen.  He stood, watching her thoughtfully, before he smiled and said a loud,

Amen!

 
It appeared he was fine with Lila’s Christianity.

She smiled, looking pleased with Nate’s reaction.

“Now let’s all go to the hospital,” Lila said.

“Oh,
no,” Chris said.  “There’s no
all
in this equation.  Pamela and I will go and you can help close the place up.  Deal?”

“Deal,” Lila and Nate replied in unison.

“George knows what to do,” I said.  “Would you please go talk to him?  You can tell him what happened.”

Lila nodded and took Nate’s hand, leading him out of the kitchen.

“What a night this has turned out to be,” Luis said.

“You can say that again,” I replied, trying to help Chris stand up.

“I’m not a cripple, cookie, and I only said I’d go to the hospital so Lila would stop talking to God.”

“Whatever it takes.”  I said a silent thank you before letting go of Chris’s arm.

~ * ~

I
used the cell phone to call Constance on our way to the hospital, suggesting she spend the night in the guest room instead of driving home.  I had no idea what time we’d be rolling in.  She was concerned about Chris and said she’d stay as long as we needed her.

I also called the police.  After all, Chris had been attacked.  They said they’d meet us at the hospital.

Chris needed a couple of stitches, and the doctor shaved a small spot on his head.  My husband was not happy, and the headache he had made his mood even worse.  It was more difficult than dealing with an injured child.  He whined about his injury, and he whined about the numbness where the doctor had stitched him up.  He even complained because he didn’t like the questions the coppers had asked him.  He whined about a headache, and he whined about my driving after we left the hospital.  I bit my tongue as long as I could, and even then tried to make nice since I knew he was in pain.

I
tactfully told him he should lean back and sleep until we reached the house.  He started to grumble about me being bossy.

“Now!” I said, authority
punctuating my word.  “You’re driving me crazy, Chris, so lean back and sleep or prepare yourself for all out warfare.”

His eyes widened in surprise when he looked at me, just before he dropped his head forward.  “I can’t lean back. My head hurts
too much.”

“Do it any way you want to, but leave me alone while I drive home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ya big baby,” I said,
under my breath.

“I heard that.”

Neither one of us slept well that night and yet I woke up feeling somewhat refreshed, surprising myself.

Chris had finally gone to sleep, so I left him alone while I went down to have my first cup of coffee and talk to Constance.  I could hear her moving around in the kitchen.

First things first, so I fed the dogs.  Constance had already taken Mikey to school, and instead of going home she’d come back to see if we needed anything.  She already had the coffee brewing.

“You’re too good to me,” I said.  “I don’t know why you hang around with me.  It seems like I’m always asking for favors.”

“You are, but that’s okay.  I’ve asked you for plenty of favors over the years, so it all evens out.”

Constance and I were both widows, each having lost our husbands to cancer. 
We bonded when I moved in next door to her.  It was a welcome friendship, and I’d do anything I could for her.  She was probably about fifteen years older than me, but our friendship knew no age limits.

“So tell me what happened last night.  You were kind of vague on the phone.  I tried to wait up for you, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

“Well, first the lights went out in the restaurant, and when Chris went to check the fuse box, someone attacked him.  That’s about the gist of it.  Chris didn’t want to go to the hospital, but Lila started praying for him.  I think it kind of freaked him out.  Anyway, he has stitches in his noggin, but he doesn’t have a concussion.”

Constance started to laugh, covering her mouth so she wouldn’t wake Chris.  “Gotta love that Lila.  She gets things done.”

“That she does.”

“Do you have any idea who attacked Chris?” Constance asked.

“No.  And nobody saw a thing.  Luis heard a car leaving, and I’d seen someone pull into the parking lot not long before the lights went out, but I wasn’t paying attention to the car.  All I could think of was that it was too late for anyone to be coming in for dinner.”

“Do you think it had something to do with the case you’re working on for the Church Ladies?”

“I wasn’t robbed, so that had to be it,” Chris said, startling both of us.  “Maybe it was a warning of sorts.”

Constance was grinning, and I turned around to look at Chris.  He was wearing his bathrobe, slippers and a fedora.  I started to laugh.

“Aren’t you a sight this morning?  What are you dressed up for?”  I couldn’t help myself.  What an outfit.

“I’m trying to hide my bald patch, and I couldn’t find my baseball cap.”

Constance coughed politely, hiding her grin behind her hand.  “Are you okay, Chris?”

“Been better.”

“Your bald patch isn’t all that big,” I said.  “I think you’ll live.”

“How about a little sympathy here,” he said, dragging himself over to the table and sitting down.  “I could use a
cup of java, too.”

Constance stood up and headed for the coffee pot.

“Thank you,” Chris said, when she placed a mug in front of him.

“Can I see your head?” she asked.

Chris took off his hat and she leaned in to take a good look.

“I wouldn’t wear a hat
, if I were you.  You’ve got a good war story to tell with that injury.  Although, I guess I’d wear it to work.  The customers probably wouldn’t want to see your stitches.”

Chris took a sip of his coffee. 
“This had to be the work of John Jackson’s partner.  Who else would have cold-cocked me like that?  I know we’re in someone’s way.  No one else has a beef with me that I know about.  If he hadn’t made me hear the birdies singin’, I would have taken him out.”

“I know you would have,
sweetie,” I said.  “And I’m sorry you heard the birdies sing, but you couldn’t have known that someone would deliberately shut the lights off.”  I had a feeling Chris thought his manhood was in question, and I wanted him to know it wasn’t.

“Was he really unconscious?” Constance asked.  “Did the doctor check for a concussion?”

“He wasn’t knocked cold, but I’m sure he heard some bells ringing, at the very least.”

“What I can’t understand,” Chris said, “is why this guy is playing games instead of just doing what he was paid to do.  Why hasn’t he gone after Victor yet?”

BOOK: Marja McGraw - Bogey Man 02 - Bogey's Ace in the Hole
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