Bad Seed (Jubilee, Kentucky #5)

Chapter 3

Larry Beaumont was on the downside of a chicken salad sandwich when Justine’s number popped up on caller ID. He rolled his eyes, wondering what was wrong now, wiped his hands, and answered.

“Hey, honey, what’s up?”

Justine was screaming and crying in his ear, making no sense, running her words together, and all he could make out was something about the kitchen staff refusing to bring her lunch order to the penthouse.

“Justine, darling…slow down, take a breath, and start over. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Justine wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and turned on her shaky little-girl voice.

“Daddy, I ordered lunch through room service as usual, and they just called me back and said I couldn’t have what I’d ordered and to pick something else, and I don’t want something else,” she wailed. “I just wanted what I ordered. Nobody likes me here. Brendan Pope is hateful. He won’t even speak to me. The staff is mean to me. I hate this hillbilly town. I hate these mountains. I don’t know why we came here,” she wailed.

Larry frowned. “Just calm down. I’ll go speak to them.”

Justine shifted into a whisper. “I’m sorry to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother,” Larry said. “I’ll bring your order up myself in a while, and we’ll talk.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said. She was smiling when she disconnected.

Unaware of his daughter’s deceit, Larry stormed out of his office and took the staff elevator up to the dining room and down the hall into the kitchens.

He came in shouting, bringing the entire room to a shocked halt. “What the hell is going on in here? My daughter ordered a simple meal from room service, and you refused to fill her order? Somebody better have a real good explanation for that.”

Chef Randolph threw his hands up in the air and shouted back. “There is a good explanation! We have a room service menu! She ordered food that was not on the menu. She ordered food that’s not even on the dining room menu. Half the time what she wants is not even in stock in this kitchen.”

Larry blinked. “What did she order that was so outrageous?”

“She wanted shrimp puttanesca made with ziti pasta, not linguini, not spaghetti, and pecan pie, and at this moment, we have two-thirds of the tables in the dining room full of diners waiting for the food we do have on the menu!” he shouted.

Larry frowned. “Well, what kind of shrimp and pasta do you have on the menu?”

“Fried, and the only pasta on the menu is spaghetti and meat sauce, which is on the children’s menu. This is a tourist destination in the mountains of Kentucky. Not Rockefeller Center!” Randolph shouted. “There are a dozen other very tasty entrées she could choose from.” And then he turned his back on Larry and began slicing off servings of prime rib to be plated.

Larry was still struggling with an answer when he spotted Brendan Pope on the far side of the kitchens and started toward him with renewed indignation.

“Brendan Pope! I want to talk to you!” Larry shouted.

Brendan was piping strawberry gelée on tiny cheesecake tarts.

“I’m listening,” he said, without looking up.

“You will look at me when I’m talking to you!” Larry shouted.

Brendan took a deep breath, and straightened up to his full height. Now Beaumont was craning his neck and looking up just to meet Brendan’s gaze.

“I’m looking. Now what?”

Larry was shouting again. “Why can’t Justine have a simple piece of pecan pie?”

Brendan’s eyes narrowed. That moment of being shouted at was Clyde Wallace all over again, yelling at his sons every day of their lives. And for Brendan, being confronted like this again took every ounce of control he had not to punch Larry. Instead, he took a deep breath and answered.

“She can’t have pecan pie because it is no longer on the dessert cart menu. Therefore we do not randomly make pecan pie, and I might add, this was Ray’s decision, not mine.”

“That’s Mr. Caldwell, to you, not Ray. He’s your employer, not your buddy,” Larry snapped.

Brendan took a step toward Larry—so close now he could see the balding spot in the crown of Larry’s head.

“No, he’s not my buddy. He’s part of my family. He’s an uncle to my cousin, Rusty Pope. Liz Devon is Rusty’s first cousin. So, yes, we call him Ray. And it was Ray who made the decision to quit offering pecan pie over a year ago because of the nationwide drought that sent pecan prices soaring, and it was no longer cost efficient to serve them, so your daughter can make another choice. We have fine desserts here.”

Larry was dumbfounded. He had not known about the familial connection, but he wasn’t finished with Brendan.

“That’s as it may be,” Ray muttered. “But Justine says you are mean to her. Rude to her. Won’t talk to her. I’d like to know why.”

Brendan looked up. Even though everyone was still racing around the kitchen filling orders, now they were doing it in silence. He knew they were listening. And they all knew she’d been chasing after Brendan for months, and they’d all suffered their own incidents with her.

“I’d rather not say. Just let it go,” he said.

Larry frowned. Now he was angry and suspicious. “I’m not letting anything go. The least you could do is be decent to her. She doesn’t have friends here.”

Brendan refused to comment, but Anthony, his head sous-chef, wasn’t as reticent. He liked Brendan, and he didn’t like seeing him put on the spot like this.

“Brendan isn’t going to speak up for himself because he’s too much of a gentleman, but nobody ever accused me of that, and I don’t mind telling you exactly what we all know. Your daughter won’t keep her hands off of him. We’ve seen her grab his ass and crotch so many times it’s become embarrassing. She stalks him everywhere. We’ve all witnessed it. A month ago he came in to work bleeding from a slash on his neck. Your daughter cornered him in the staff elevator and tried it on him again, and when he told her no, she pulled a knife and tried to cut his face. He dodged. Chef Randolph called the EMTs to tend the wound, and if you look closely, you can see the red place where it’s still healing. She’s a freak. He’s made it more than plain to her that he’s not interested, but she won’t take no for an answer.”

Larry was horrified. He knew his daughter was spoiled, but he’d never witnessed this behavior, so he wouldn’t let himself believe it and brushed Anthony off.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he said.

But Anthony wasn’t through. “No, sir, but you came in here shouting at us and throwing accusations around, so you now have to hear the answers to the questions you asked. And there’s more. Justine slapped Ronnie, the clerk in the gift store, and she did it in front of customers, and left Ronnie in tears.”

“She’s hateful to all of us,” a waitress said. “She thinks just because you’re the manager that it has given her the power to speak for you. She goes through the dining room at rush times, criticizing waitstaff in front of diners and ordering them around. We sincerely hope those aren’t your wishes she’s putting forward, because you’re about to have a mass staff walkout if it continues.”

Brendan was in awe of the people who’d spoken up for him, but he could stay silent no longer. “Look, Larry, don’t blame us if you don’t like the answers you received. But you need to realize that since your arrival, she has single-handedly destroyed the morale of this workforce, and as far as we’re concerned, she’s your problem, not ours.”

Larry’s face was flushed with anger. “How dare you talk about—”

“You asked,” Brendan said.

“I don’t believe you, and you could at least be willing to interact with Justine. Talk to her. Be nice to her. She doesn’t have any friends here and she’s—”

Brendan’s patience snapped. “What the actual hell? She tried to cut my face! Did you really just order me to…I don’t know quite how to say it…succumb to her charms?”

Larry’s face was as red as his tie. “How dare you talk—”

Brendan had had enough and was now standing toe-to-toe with the man, shouting back.

“No, sir! How dare you suggest I cater to her wishes. You sound like her pimp. She’s made coming to work a living hell. Stalking is a crime, and I have two brothers who are officers on the Jubilee police force, and Ray would be very unhappy to learn what has been going on here, so keep her away from me, and I suggest you keep her out of your business, too.”

Larry was speechless, embarrassed, and suddenly seeing the situation he was in. He didn’t need people looking into his little sideline. He turned around and headed for the exit with his head down.

“So do I fry shrimp or not?” Chef Randolph snapped as Larry walked past.

“No,” he mumbled and kept walking.

The moment he was gone, the noise level resumed.

Brendan picked up the bag of piping gelée and went back to work. Orders came in. Orders were going out. And Larry Beaumont was on his way to the penthouse.

He rode the elevator up in silence, but he was shouting his daughter’s name as he walked in the door.

Justine heard the roar and rolled her eyes, but didn’t budge from the sofa where she was sitting. “What is the matter with you, and where’s my food?” she asked, and then gasped in shock when her father yanked her up by her shoulders and began shaking her.

“What’s the matter with me? The better question is, what’s the matter with you ?” he shouted. “I have hotel staff ready to walk out because of what you’ve been pulling.”

Justine’s eyes welled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you Brendan hates me.”

“Oh, he said nothing about you. Not even the fact that you tried to cut his face. He refused to say a word. It was the rest of the staff that came to his rescue. Where the hell is that knife? Have you been putting your hands on him? Have you been accosting him in the halls? I can check security footage in elevators and halls, so don’t lie!”

Justine’s stomach knotted. She’d never thought of that. She let the tears roll. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just flirting a little.”

Larry glared. “Flirts don’t slice up the guys they’re interested in. Even once with your hands on him is out of line. Doing it repeatedly is called sexual assault. If he’d been doing it to you, he would already be in jail. And speaking of jail, he has two brothers on the Jubilee police force, and he is related to Ray Caldwell and his daughter, Liz Devon, our event coordinator. He’s fed up enough to press charges if it doesn’t stop, and I’m on the verge of being fired because of you!”

“We should have had this information sooner,” she muttered, swiping away the fake tears with both hands.

Larry stared. “What are you saying?”

She shrugged. “I would have steered clear of him, that’s what.”

Larry was dumbfounded, and it showed. “So, you’re not sorry it happened, just regretting you’ve been found out. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Justine should have been warned by the sudden quiet in her father’s voice.

“You can’t blame me. I’m bored here,” she said.

“Did you slap the clerk in the gift shop in front of customers? Did you chastise our waitstaff in front of customers?” he asked.

“So what? If you don’t keep people in line, they get sloppy,” she said.

Now Larry was shouting. “That’s not your job. You don’t work here. I do. You have no authority here at all. If I hear about one more incident that you’re involved in, I will put you on the plane with a one-way ticket back to Dallas. You can live with your mother. You’re just like her.”

Justine froze. “I’m not living with her.”

“Fine! You’re twenty-four years old. You can live where you want, but it won’t be under my roof.” He shook her by the shoulders. “Do. You. Understand?”

Justine twisted out of his grasp. “You don’t talk to me like that.”

“I just did!” Larry said, and headed for the door.

“What about my lunch?” she shrieked.

“Pick something from the menu or do without!” he shouted back, and slammed the door behind him.

Justine was in shock. Something told her that she’d just lost the edge of ever coercing her father into anything again.

***

Larry got back to his office, dumped what was left of his chicken salad sandwich in the garbage, pulled a bottle of whiskey from the bottom drawer, and poured himself a shot. He downed it like medicine, returned the bottle to the drawer, and then buried his face in his hands.

This might have been one of the most humiliating days of his life. Justine was out of control, just like always, only now she was too old to punish. He couldn’t ground her anymore. He couldn’t take away her privileges, and he didn’t know how to get rid of her. He couldn’t even call his ex-wife for advice because Justine was just like her. She would think the ass-grabbing was funny. She would call her daughter fiery for swinging a knife at a man. She was just as demanding as their daughter. He was still bemoaning his fate when his cell phone rang. He scrubbed his face with both hands and then answered.

“Hello.”

“Larry, it’s me, Joe. Just letting you know I sent your cut for the month to your Dallas account.”

Larry breathed a quick sigh of relief that it was the meat wholesaler and not another problem about his daughter. “Thanks, Joe. Much appreciated.”

“Oh…hey, I’m the one who’s thanking you. We just received a new order from the hotel purchasing department. It’ll ship out this week with the regular invoice enclosed.”

“Perfect,” Larry said. “Have a good day.”

With this bit of good news to go on, Larry disconnected and went back to work.

***

Justine needed to make peace with her father and the sooner, the better. But instead of using her cell, she used the landline in the room and punched in the number to his office.

Unaware it was Justine calling, Larry answered on the second ring.

“Hello, this is Larry.”

She took a loud, shuddering breath and turned on her little-girl voice…the one that sounded like she’d been crying.

“Daddy, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. None of that will happen again, I swear.”

Larry sighed. “I’ve heard this before and you’ve reneged every time. I don’t have time for any more of your drama. I’m about to leave the office. I have a meeting with the event coordinator.”

“Fine. Be like that,” she snapped. “I’m going for a drive.”

“And I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, then disconnected and hurried out of the room.

Justine grabbed her key card, boarded the penthouse elevator, and headed back down to her father’s office. She needed a little information about Brendan Pope and knew it would be on the job form he filled out. She couldn’t get into her father’s computer, but there were hard copies in the files in the back room. It wouldn’t take long to get what she wanted there.

***

After Larry stormed out of the kitchen, Brendan went back to work, but it felt like he’d just gone ten rounds with Clyde Wallace. The only thing missing was the actual beating his father delivered afterward. The blowup with Larry Beaumont was long overdue, but it had done a number on Brendan, as fighting always did. He shut down.

He’d gone through all kinds of kitchen drama during his years in New York. He’d had asshole roommates, chefs that needed to be on Prozac, and had a thousand complaints and failures heaped upon him to get to the skill level he was today. He had confidence in his ability to make magic in the kitchen and was still searching for that one woman who felt like a keeper. But never in his life had he ever dealt with someone like Justine Beaumont. There was an odd glitch about her that went beyond her irrational behavior. Definitely the bad seed of that family. Something was definitely wrong with her, and he wanted out of her whirlpool of drama.

He guessed Larry lit into her good after his trip through the kitchen, but there was no way to know how she would react to being called down. His gut instinct was that she was going to find a way to make him the scapegoat, but time would tell.

By the time he finally left the hotel that night, he was emotionally exhausted. He drove through the streets of Jubilee and thought of Alex Fallin and the little boy he’d found in the ditch, and imagined the mother’s relief when they were reunited. He knew from Wiley that Alex’s surgery had been successful and that the little boy had been reunited with his mother. It felt good to know he’d helped make that happen.

By the time he pulled up in his driveway, he’d turned loose of everything to do with the hotel. All he was thinking about was a hot shower and some downtime. He aimed the remote at his garage door, and as it was going up, he glanced over at his front door and thought he saw something taped to it. He pulled into the garage and got out. The garage door was lowering as he went through the house to the front door.

There was a note taped to the door that had been written with a black marker. He didn’t recognize the writing, but the message was both brief and angry.

I’LL MAKE YOU SORRY YOU WERE EVER BORN

The moment he read it, the hair crawled on the back of his neck. Justine Beaumont! It had to be her! But how did she know where he lived? And what did she mean by this threatening note? He knew she was capable of almost anything. What the hell would she do?

He took a picture of it still taped to the door, then got a plastic bag from the pantry, removed the note with a pair of tweezers, and dropped it in the bag. If this was how she was going to play it, he needed to start covering his ass and, starting today, report every uninvited move she made.

He ate supper standing up at the kitchen island, still stewing about all of the events of the day until good sense prompted him to let Liz Devon know what was happening.

He went to get his laptop, then sent her a detailed email, including the harassment he’d been putting up with from Justine and of how she’d been treating staff. He didn’t like the feeling of being a narc, but Liz was her father’s eyes and ears while he was still in recovery, and she needed to know what was happening, too.

After it was sent, he got ready for bed, set the alarm for his usual 4:00 a.m. wake-up, and crawled into bed.

***

Liz Devon didn’t think this day was ever going to be over, and then finally it ended. She didn’t even remember driving home until she was walking into the penthouse of Hotel Devon. The fact that she was married to the man who owned Serenity Inn’s biggest competitor had never been a conflict of interest for either of them, but her father’s heart attack and then the ensuing heart surgery had scared all of them. She was already worried about Larry Beaumont’s managerial skills at her dad’s hotel, and the meeting she’d had with Larry this afternoon only exacerbated it.

She still had a headache from the stress of the fight that had ensued and kept going over the incident, thinking if she’d been in the wrong.

It all began when Larry walked into her office without knocking, then sat down without so much as a greeting.

***

Liz was on the phone with Josie Fallin, discussing the upcoming event at the hotel and just learning that Josie’s brother was one of the passengers on the charter bus that crashed.

“I can only imagine how terrified you must have been to get that message,” Liz said.

“It was horrifying,” Josie said. “Our parents are deceased. Alex and I only have each other. I don’t know what I would have done. Alex must have had an angel watching over him, because the guy who witnessed the wreck also saved him from bleeding to death. Alex said he works at your hotel.”

“Really? I haven’t heard anyone talking about it. Do you remember his name?” Liz asked.

“Yes, Brendan Pope. I remember because it’s the same last name as the mountain above Jubilee.”

“Oh wow! He’s the head pastry chef here. He’ll be the one in charge of the baking aspect of your event.”

“That’s wonderful! I’ll get to thank him in person,” Josie said.

“He never said a word about this to any of us, although I shouldn’t be surprised. His people aren’t the kind to toot their own horn about anything. Anyway…back to the reason I called. I’m just confirming the number of attendees again before I make up the seating chart. Are we firm at two hundred?”

“Yes,” Josie said. “That’s how many RSVPs we’ve received and the cutoff for replies has come and gone.”

“Okay then, we’re good to go. Thanks, and our best to your brother.”

“Thank you,” Josie said, and disconnected.

Liz was still thinking about Brendan at the crash site when the door to her office opened abruptly and Larry Beaumont walked in. She looked up, a little taken aback by the rudeness of his behavior. He plopped down into the chair on the other side of her desk, gave her the quick once-over as he leaned back, then started talking.

“So, I hear we’ve scored a big event. Tell me about it,” he said.

Liz shoved a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, adjusted her reading glasses, and pulled up the file on her computer.

“Josie Fallin is hosting a big event for her fan club and—”

Larry immediately interrupted. “Who’s Josie Fallin?”

“The big country star who’s headlining at one of the music venues here. She’s been here for a month and will be here for next three months before going on tour.”

Larry rolled his eyes. “Oh. One of those hillbillies.”

Liz glared. “That hillbilly, as you call her, is worth millions. Her fan base is worldwide. I think you need to keep that opinion to yourself.”

Larry flushed, but said nothing.

“Now, back to business,” Liz said. “We’ve been given a generous budget to set up the event exactly as she wants it, right down to specific food, decor, and special merchandise that she’s furnishing for giveaways at the gathering. I’ll be putting in the orders today so that we’ll be sure to have it all on hand in a timely fashion. It’s been scheduled for two weeks hence, which should give us ample time.”

“Oh, just give me a list and I’ll do the ordering,” Larry said.

Liz frowned. “No, sir. I’m the event coordinator. That’s part of my job.”

Larry leaned forward, slapped his hand on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, and raised his voice a good two octaves.

“And I’m managing this hotel, and I know where to get the best deal for—”

Liz interrupted. “Josie Fallin didn’t ask for the best deal. She asked for the best. It’s her money we’re spending, and she’s paying us handsomely for it. I know what she wants, and we’re not sacrificing quality.”

Larry stood abruptly, shouting now. “You don’t have the—”

Liz stood to face him, shouting back. “You forget who you’re talking to, mister. My father owns this hotel. He hired me to do this job, and he’s damn sure never going to fire me. And yes, I do have the authority to do the ordering for all the events I coordinate. I know how to do my job, and you just overstepped yours.”

Larry turned and walked out of her office as abruptly as he’d entered, slamming the door behind him as he went.

***

And now, hours later, Liz was sick to her stomach still thinking about the shouting match. Turmoil bothered her. Turmoil on the job was even worse. And this wasn’t the first time she and Beaumont had an argument, but this was the ugliest. She was beginning to wonder why he’d insisted on controlling something outside of his responsibilities. She was thinking about the wisdom of calling her dad when her laptop signaled a new email. When she saw it was from Brendan, she opened it.

Horrified beyond words at what she read, she felt as if she had no options. Now she had to call her dad. This was still his hotel, and he needed to know what was going on and make changes, if necessary. But not tonight and have him worry to the point of not being able to rest. First thing tomorrow would be soon enough.

She sighed, closed her laptop, but stayed at her desk, staring off into space.

***

Michael Devon was in the elevator on his way up to the penthouse. He’d just finished a dinner meeting in a private dining area of the hotel and was ready to see Liz and catch up on their day together.

As he walked into the quiet, all the hassles of the day fell away. The place smelled of lavender and cinnamon. He smiled, guessing Liz had indulged in her favorite lavender bath salts, and the cinnamon was most likely from her penchant for the cinnamon rolls from Granny Annie’s Bakery downtown. He loved Liz deeply, but he was also worried for her and about his father-in-law, Ray.

“Liz, honey! I’m home,” he called out.

She answered. “In the office!”

He took off his tie as he was walking and draped it over the doorknob to their bedroom before moving across the hall into the office, then took one look at her pale face and slumped shoulders and hurried to her, fearing the worst.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Is it Ray?”

She stood up and walked into his arms. “Yes, and no, but not what you think. There’s trouble at the hotel…even more than I knew about. I just got an email from Brendan and found out even more. It’s gotten to the point that I’m going to have to tell Dad, but I dread it. I don’t want to make things worse for him.”

Michael hugged her closer. “Let me get out of this suit and I’ll meet you in the living room. We’ll talk, and if there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will.”

Liz was close to tears. “Thank you, love. You’re the best.” She followed him out of the office, but when he went to change clothes, she headed for the wet bar in the living room, poured each of them a glass of wine, and was waiting for him when he came back.

Michael sat down beside her, leaned over, and kissed her full on the lips, then stroked his finger down the side of her face.

“We don’t do this nearly often enough,” he said, and then picked up his glass of wine and took a quick sip. “Okay, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Liz cradled her wineglass in both hands, debating about what to share, and then sighed. Michael was her father’s competitor, but he was her husband. He would never betray her confidences.

“It’s Larry Beaumont, the manager Dad hired. As you know, his twentysomething daughter came with him, and it appears that she’s been running roughshod over everyone for months, throwing her weight around with all the staff when she has no business interfering. They’re at the point of rebellion. Brendan emailed me this evening. The daughter has been harassing him to the point that it’s come to sexual harassment and stalking. He has rebuffed her attention and she’s angry. He found a threatening note taped to his front door when he got home tonight. It was unsigned, but he suspects it was her. He’s considering turning it over to the police. If her fingerprints are on it… Well, then I guess he has the option of filing charges against her for stalking, and from everything else I know, there’s a whole hotel of staff who would testify on his behalf about what she’s been doing.”

“Good lord,” Michael said.

“That’s not all,” Liz said. “The manager has changed things without approval and has changed vendors. We’re still paying the same price for everything, but I’m questioning the reasons for why he took it upon himself to switch. Dad had good working relationships with all of them. And that’s not all. Beaumont and I had a meeting this afternoon and wound up in a row. I have special food and wine and some specific decor I needed to order for an upcoming event. I was given a very generous budget from the host for arranging everything to her request, and Beaumont told me he’d do the ordering. I challenged that and won the argument, but he was furious. I feel like something’s going on and I can’t see it. I’m going to call Dad in the morning. He needs to know this. It’s still his hotel, but the man he hired to run it is sketchy. I feel it.”

“Ah, honey, what a mess. I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “And yes, I agree with you. Ray needs to know. This may be the tipping point for your dad.”

“What do you mean?” Liz asked.

“Ray’s well-being is more important than that hotel, and after this health scare, he may be thinking about selling it.”

“I’ve thought the same, but I wouldn’t ask,” she said.

“You don’t have to. Ray will decide what’s best for him and for the hotel. You’ll call him in the morning, and I promise you, Ray Caldwell will have a solution for your problem, because that’s the kind of man he is.”