Scones and Scofflaws Page 11

  Sammy showed up ten minutes later, jumping out of her car and running over to Anna.

  “How did you find this place?” Sammy asked, laughing. “I had never heard of it before. But I mentioned it to one of my employees, and she thought it was hysterical that we were coming here.”

  “She did? Why?” Anna asked, confused.

  Sammy raised an eyebrow. “Let’s go in and find out.”

  “Before we go in”—Anna put a hand on her friend’s arm to stop her—“did you get a chance to do some research on George?”

  Sammy grimaced and shook her head. “I did, but I didn’t come up with much. I thought everybody had an online track record. George must have been the most boring man in the world. The only information I could dig up on him was about his work. And believe me, that is not exciting stuff.”

  “All right then.” Anna straightened her shoulders. “Let’s see what we can learn in the Pink Passion Club.”

  The bouncer at the door scrutinized their IDs, more strictly than necessary, Anna thought. She and Sammy clearly both looked over the age of twenty-one. With a nod, the burly man handed them back their licenses and pushed the wooden door open for them.

  The first thing Anna noticed when she stepped inside was the stage at the far end of the room. A stage on which three Dolly Partons danced and sang in unison, belting out a familiar tune. The bright lights focused on the stage drew attention away from the rest of the room, but Anna saw more fabulously costumed people at the tables and standing at the bar — Cher, Marilyn Monroe, Beyoncé and more Dolly Partons.

  She and Sammy shared a smile and headed for the bar, feeling distinctly underdressed.

  “What can I get you?” The bartender asked over the sound of applause that broke out as the stage performance ended.

  “I’m driving,” Sammy said. “So a soda for me.”

  The bartender turned to Anna, who shook her head. “I’m not sure yet.”

  When he returned with Sammy’s soda, Anna leaned over the bar toward the bartender, speaking loudly over the sound of the next performance.

  “Do you know George Hedley?” she asked the bartender.

  He frowned and shook his head. “Is he one of the performers?” he asked, gesturing toward the stage.

  “Oh,” Anna answered, surprised by the question. “I don’t know.”

  Sammy just shrugged and sipped her drink.

  The bartender’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking?”

  “Well… um…” Anna stammered. “I was a friend of his and I know he was a regular here at Pink Passion.” She felt herself blush at the lie — in truth, she had no idea if George had even ever been there or had just picked up the matchbook somewhere.

  “Regular customer? Hmm, maybe… no, I’m not sure. Wait, did you say was? Not is?”

  Anna nodded sadly. “George passed away the other day.”

  The bartender abruptly pushed himself away from the bar and walked to the far end, where he had an animated conversation with a man in a sexy white dress and blond bombshell wig. He pointed toward Anna and Sammy and both men turned to look at them. Anna sank lower onto her stool.

  “We’re not very good at this, are we?” she asked Sammy.

  “Speak for yourself. I think I’m doing pretty well.” Sammy offered Anna a wicked grin. “I’m having fun.”

  When she looked back, the blonde bombshell was making his — or was it her? — way down the bar toward them. There was no point pretending she hadn’t noticed, so she allowed herself to stare as he walked, truly impressed by how gracefully he was able to walk in those heels.

  “I’m Jason,” he introduced himself in a voice that was decidedly manly. “I understand you’re asking about George?”

  Anna nodded and Sammy put out a hand. “Love your look,” she said. “Let’s see, low-cut dress, sexy pout, masses of blond hair — Brigitte Bardot?”

  Jason grinned. “Got it in one. And you are?”

  “I’m Sammy, and this is my friend Anna. We just have a few questions. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “That depends on what you want to ask. We get some unfortunate questions around here, as you can imagine. Look, I need a drink. Can I get you anything?”

  Sammy held up her soda. “Not for me, thanks.”

  Anna shrugged. “Sure, I guess, whatever you’re having.”

  Jason put his head back and laughed out loud. “Brave girl.”

  As he leaned over the bar to confer with the bartender, Anna leaned away from him to whisper into Sammy’s ear. “We shouldn’t be here, should we?”

  “Why not?” Sammy hissed back. “This is fun.”

  “I know, it is.” Anna looked around the bar with a smile. “But I mean we shouldn’t be prying into George’s life like this, should we?”

  Sammy raised an eyebrow. “No, we should definitely not be. If he did hang out here, he probably didn’t want anyone else to know.”

  “Particularly not that horrid wife of his.” Anna shuddered, picturing once again the tiny woman planted firmly in her entrance hall. The image of Catherine Hedley only reaffirmed Anna’s determination.

  “Well, it’s too bad, but I need to find the truth. We won’t go gossiping about George, I promise. I just need to make sure Mrs. Hedley doesn’t get away with accusing me of killing him.”

  She stopped talking when Jason presented her with a pink beverage in a martini glass, a tiny pink umbrella holding a raspberry into the drink. “Here you go,” he said, “my favorite cocktail. To all the scofflaws here tonight.”

  Laughing, Jason took a sip, then raised his glass to Anna, encouraging her to do the same.

  Anna lifted the glass to her lips, but before taking a taste she leaned toward Sammy. “I feel as bad about this as you do, but I can’t let my business go under before it even starts. I don’t have a choice.”

  She smiled at Jason and took a sip of the cocktail.

  24

  “Wow, that’s good!” Anna didn’t hide her surprise. She hadn’t expected something quite so tasty, particularly when it looked like it would be far too sweet.

  “It’s a Scofflaw,” Jason said. “A classic cocktail, first made in France.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Perfect for Brigitte Bardot. Come on, let’s find somewhere we can talk.”

  He guided them to a relatively quiet table at the far end of the bar from the stage. Cher had taken the stage, and for a few minutes all three of them sat and enjoyed the over-the-top performance. The atmosphere in the club was easy, relaxed, with members of the audience cheering and singing along. Anna could see why people enjoyed it here.

  Finally, she dragged herself back to the reason she was here. “So you knew George Hedley?” she asked Jason.

  Jason frowned slightly as he stared down into his drink. “I knew him. I met him here, a few times. I was really sorry to hear about what happened to him.”

  “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know him that well.”

  “Clearly.” Sammy laughed under her breath.

  Anna glared at her. “But it must be hard to lose a friend.”

  “A friend?” Jason asked, surprised. “Huh. Yeah, I guess we were friends. But…” He raised his head and gestured around the bar. “Look around.”

  Anna did as he suggested, still seeing the enthusiasm and excitement that she’d noticed earlier.

  “It’s a great bar, looks like everyone is having fun.”

  “Exactly. Fun.” Jason put down his drink with a bang. “That was George’s thing, too. He didn’t take this — take us — seriously. This was all just fun to him.”

  Anna saw the confusion on Sammy’s face and knew she was as surprised as she herself was.

  Sammy leaned forward over the table toward Jason. “How seriously do you and the other performers take it?”

  Jason laughed lightly, easing the mood that had grown suddenly tense. “Look, I have a day job, right? I get paid to keep people safe and alive while they’re at the beach.”

  “You’re a l
ifeguard?” Anna asked.

  “Does that surprise you?”

  Anna glanced over his tight dress and heavy makeup. “Yeah, kind of.” She lowered her head as she grimaced. “Sorry, I guess that’s rude.”

  “This”—Jason gestured to his dress and to his wig—“is my creative outlet. I need this, I thrive on it.”

  “But it is still for fun, right?” Sammy asked. “I mean, you couldn’t do this for a living?” She looked back at the stage with a new understanding. “Does anyone do this for a living?”

  Jason looked pained. “It’s not about that, not about money. It’s about…” he looked around as if hoping to find the words he was seeking floating in the air above them. “It’s about pride, self-respect. It’s about letting me be me and enjoy myself the way I want to. Not the way anyone else thinks I should.” He lowered his head and stared down at the table. “Everyone assumes I think it’s fun to go out and drink a keg or so of beer and hit on drunk girls in bikinis. How is that any better than this?” He looked at Anna defiantly.

  “It’s not,” she said quietly. “I think I get it.”

  “But George didn’t?” Sammy asked.

  “I thought he did.” Jason paused to take a drink. “We met a few times, he was a nice guy. Obviously shy. And nervous.” He laughed at some memory that he didn’t share. “But once he relaxed, he was fun to hang out with. And he got it. He enjoyed this.” Jason waved a hand about vaguely, indicating the room.

  “Did he… um…” Anna wasn’t sure how to phrase this. “Did he dress up to come out?”

  Jason grinned at her. “No. He loved it, loved coming out. But not for that. You could just tell he relaxed as soon as he walked into the bar. But then…” Jason shrugged and took another drink.

  “What changed?” Anna pressed him.

  “I thought he understood, but he didn’t. We were becoming friends. He even said he could offer me investment advice. I guess he has a background in private equity or something. But then last month…” Jason’s voice died off again.

  “What happened?” Sammy asked, her eyes affixed to Jason as he told his story.

  Jason frowned, his eyes downcast, saddened by whatever he was remembering. He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “He said some things. He laughed. He made out like this was all just a big joke.”

  Anna put a hand out and rested it briefly on Jason’s arm. “I’m sorry he hurt you. Did you ever see him again?”

  “Oh yeah. He was here a few days ago, as if nothing had changed. All happy again.” Jason laughed lightly under his breath. “He didn’t even know how hurtful he’d been.”

  “Was that on Tuesday?” Anna asked. “He was here that night?”

  Jason leaned back into his chair as he nodded. “That was Tuesday. Okay, look, enough about that. Let’s talk about you ladies.” His face lightened as he intentionally shifted the mood. “Tell me more about you.”

  “I bake for a living,” Sammy said with a wink, then went on to say more about her business.

  As Sammy spoke, Anna thought over what she knew about Varico and how Luke said it had been taken over, even when Richard didn’t want to sell it. That was the sort of thing private equity firms did, wasn’t it?

  She looked over at Sammy, but she was engrossed in a discussion with Jason about his dress, running her hands over the silk and beads. Or perhaps over the muscles below the dress. Anna started when Jason looked over at her with an enticing look in his eye. Was a man dressed as Brigitte Bardot seriously flirting with her? She shook her head and laughed at the absurdity of it.

  “So did he ever give you that financial advice? Did you make any money off it?” Anna asked.

  “Nah.” Jason shook his head. “Like I said, he was never really serious. He suggested it a few times — he brought it up you know, I didn’t,” Jason added defensively. “But it’s probably for the best. I went by his office down here once, and there’s definitely something off about that business and his partner.”

  25

  Anna and Sammy squeezed past a crowd near the stage to get to the restroom. Once inside, Anna grabbed Sammy and pulled her over to a corner near the mirror, where they could pretend to be primping while comparing notes.

  “Jason mentioned that George was involved in a private equity firm,” Anna started. “Aren’t they the kind of firm that buys out other companies?”

  Sammy grimaced. “I’m not really sure. I think that sounds about right.” She stepped forward as a large Marilyn Monroe swept into the bathroom, giggling as she came.

  “So maybe there was bad blood between George and Richard?” Anna pressed. “I mean, it would make sense. George bought out Richard’s company, against his will.”

  “Yeah, but he did buy it out, he didn’t just take it.” Sammy pointed out. “Luke and the Ahavas said that, in the end, Richard was better off. He paid him a lot of money, I guess.”

  Anna turned to stare at her reflection. Celebrities were crossing in the night behind her, but she ignored them. “Right. But he could still harbor some resentment.”

  “And what about the fact that George was a regular here, at the Pink Passion?” Sammy asked. “This is not the type of place you’d expect him to spend his time, is it?”

  “I know.” Anna started chewing on her lip, then saw how ridiculous it looked in the mirror and stopped. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t think that was relevant, but having met his wife, I wonder…”

  “Wonder what?” Sammy leaned in toward the mirror to reapply her lipstick.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  “Okay then.” Sammy turned and grinned at Anna. “What about Jason?”

  “What about Jason?” Anna asked, surprised. “You think he was so mad at George he killed him?”

  Sammy laughed as she brushed her hair into an even silkier sheen. “That’s not what I’m saying. I know he’s in a dress and all, but he is a good looking man. And he was definitely making eyes at you.”

  Anna laughed. “He’s dressed as Brigitte Bardot.” She shook her head, then thought about it. “He must be in shape, if he’s a lifeguard.”

  “He is, I can vouch for that.” Sammy nodded. “Come on, we better get back out there.”

  Back at the table, Jason was chatting with a woman who leaned low over him as they spoke. Her long dark hair fell over his shoulder and her low-cut dress revealed more than she probably realized. Or perhaps not, Anna thought. The woman laughed as Sammy and Anna approached, a wide smile made even brighter by sparkling red lipstick.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said, patting Jason on the shoulder. He touched her hand as she moved away, nodding briefly at Anna and Sammy.

  Anna sat back down at the table feeling shabby and plain in comparison. Sammy, on the other hand, glittering as she always did, wasted no time asking about the other woman.

  “Just a friend.” Jason grinned. “For now. We’ll see.”

  He must have caught some kind of look from Anna because he said to her, “Are you surprised?”

  Anna felt her face grow red and hoped it didn’t show in the dim lights. “I admit, I assumed you were gay.”

  Jason raised his drink in a mock salute, “You know what happens when you assume. But seriously is that the vibe I’m giving you?”

  “Definitely not,” Sammy answered for her.

  Anna shook her head no.

  Jason grinned again. “So how about a drink sometime?” He glanced around. “Not here, somewhere more… traditional?”

  Jason had his head turned toward Anna so couldn’t see Sammy nodding vigorously behind him. She laughed. “Sure, why not. Here’s my card — it’s for my B&B, but you can reach me at that number.”

  “All right boys and girls.” Sammy stood. “I have another early morning tomorrow. Come on, Anna, I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Jason held out a hand to Sammy, then pecked Anna on the cheek. She couldn’t help but smile. What a strange night. Asked out on a date by Brigitte Bardot! But as unexpected as it was, she
was seriously considering it. She was ready for something completely different in her love life.

  “So this wasn’t a total waste of time, then.” Sammy said as they settled into her car. “I’m glad I came here tonight.”

  “Definitely not a waste of time,” Anna agreed. “And I’m glad you came out, too.” She felt herself still smiling, and for a moment forgot the real reason they’d been there. Only for a moment. Her smiled faded.

  Poor George. Who was he, really? Some kind of private equity evil genius who took over people’s businesses against their wishes? Or a stressed-out man looking for a quirky way to relax and have fun?

  26

  The rain had passed, the low gray clouds blown over, and the ocean waves shimmered under the glittering morning sun. Anna took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scents of ocean, salt and sand. She shut her eyes, turning her face to the wind and sun. It hadn’t taken long to get through her chores that morning. Not having any guests to cook for or clean up after certainly made a difference.

  Any guests besides Eoin, that is. She opened her eyes to watch the boy playing tag with the waves, running as close to the water as he dared while they pulled away, then screaming with joy as he ran away when they chased him back up the beach. She’d made a call that morning and got him enrolled in another activity at the Community Center later that afternoon. These were great classes and she was glad she could offer Eoin some kind of educational opportunities. Though he seemed perfectly content to rely on his own readings and his own explorations.

  She took one more breath then continued her walk toward the World War II bunker that lay half buried about a mile and a half down the beach. Her eyes scanned the horizon as she walked, where gulls bobbed and weaved on the ocean breeze, calling angrily to each other whenever they felt threatened. She could relate to feeling threatened.