Tuesday, December 20
After pondering all day, Angelica was unsure whether to use the “old boyfriend’s back” line or to tell “it like it is” as the big event drew closer.
Ending the relationship gave her a sense of empowerment, but she hoped to find the gumption to tell Matt off rather than use a contrived, cowardly excuse.
She pushed aside hanger after hanger in her closet, searching for the perfect outfit. Matt told her to wear something nice, as if she were a slovenly dresser. Not planning to give Matt the pleasure of seeing her usual upscale look, Angelica chose jeans and a blouse.
While dwelling on the jerk causing her anxiety, she tried to remember his other comment to her. Oh, yes. “Everything will be great again.” Who has he been dating with that “great again” thing?
She swore to herself she wouldn’t go to bed with him on the first date, the second, or maybe never. After all her years of abstinence following the accident, it seemed her body thought better of that idea that evening.
Matt got her with his heated goodnight kiss at her front door, which led to him coming in for a very “good” night in her bedroom.
But after the newness of their bed sessions wore off, their differences came into play. What does an artist have in common with an auto body shop owner, anyhow? She laughed at the absurdity of her life. Two guys, both in the automobile trade and with short fuses.
Before Angelica realized it, her emotions were on a rollercoaster. They had been spending more time apart than together lately, which was in her favor as she focused on building her career. Regrettably, a man named Matthew Jenkins threw a wrench in her goal.
She was bushed that night, but the stud arrived with a six-pack, ready to show off some new moves, not the kind on the dance floor. That volatile incident marked the low point of their “on-again, off-again” relationship.
Angelica examined herself in the mirror. She might be petite, but she was really made for jeans. Don’t forget the makeup that corrected nature’s shortcomings. Even better, the highlights in her hair enhanced her appearance. She’s too good for Matt.
Would anyone else notice her at the Lakeside Inn? She dismissed that silly thought. Men complicate life.
* * *
Tonight would have weighed more heavily on Garrett’s nerves, except for the new homicide.
It eased the pressure on his date and redirected his hostility toward the unknown killer.
Either way, backing out of their blind date was pointless; Bonnie would hound him if he did.
His plans for the evening were simple: dinner, conversation, then drop her off. No sleepovers!
According to Ed’s description, Bonnie was cute. When Garrett picked her up, he decided her cuteness had faded years ago. She looked more like a tired fifty than the early forties.
Sitting at the table in the Lakeside Inn, Bonnie unintentionally spoke of her recent divorce. Her quick-footed effort to attract a man revealed as much.
She neglected to ask about Garrett’s marital status. Ed and Lizzie, the gossipers, indeed filled her in on the details. With luck, not the specific detail about his wife dumping him.
Bonnie proudly discussed her employment history. “—twenty-five wonderful years as a legal secretary, I intend to retire in nine years.”
The revelation made him question her actual age.
Then the lady nearing Social Security inquired about his job.
Not wanting to share—he chased down, tortured, and gunned down killers—he went for brevity. “Due to the confidential nature of my work as a homicide detective, I’m not at liberty to discuss any details.”
With a lull in the conversation and counting the seconds with her, Garrett settled on an innocuous topic. “Are you from around here?”
“I moved here with my ex-husband,” Bonnie said, oh-so-casually. “Are you a local, Garrett? And tell me about your college studies. Education always interests me, you know.”
Oops, she inadvertently mentioned her ex again! And he felt as if he were being interviewed for the newly available spouse position, evaluated for his intelligence before being allowed to father her late-in-life children, and assessed for his ability to support her so she could quit her job.
Playing with his teaspoon, which didn’t make the evening go any faster, Garrett rambled, “I relocated for my job. I majored in criminal justice, minored in American history.”
Bonnie adjusted the napkin on her lap and batted her sweeping, false eyelashes. “My, American history.”
Score a point for murder! His career held little interest for his tablemate. With her curiosity piqued by his minor studies, he nonchalantly tossed out, “Should I get shot and disabled, history might be the way to pay my bills.”
His comment drew a rise from Bonnie, as her rosy cheeks lost some of their color.
Overlooking the company, the meal was flavorful and shuttered the small talk. Just as he finished eating, a woman’s high-pitched voice across the room caught his attention.
“Let go of me, Matt!”
Garrett’s eyes darted in that direction.
It’s her! The young woman from the Greenery Eatery, the one with the captivating smile and fantastic figure.
The woman with the sexy hair. The woman with the intoxicating perfume.
The woman with the bruise. Now she was trying to wrestle her arm free from the grip of an imposing man.
She lifted her wine glass with her free hand and hurled the contents at the man’s face, achieving her desired effect. He released her but launched into a verbal attack. “You bitch!”
She shoved her chair away from the table, grabbed her handbag and jacket from the back of the chair, then hurried out of the dining room.
Garrett dropped his fork on the table and shot out of his chair. He chased the woman as she fled and caught up with her in the lobby.
“Excuse me, Miss. Do you need any assistance?”
Her wide eyes mirrored those of a deer caught in headlights as she clutched her purse to her chest. “No, no … I’m … okay,” she stammered.
“I’m a police detective. Do you need help? How are you going to get home?”
She leaned against the wall and said breathlessly, “Thank you … Detective. I came in my own car.”
At least a foot taller, Garrett towered over her. “You don’t look like you’re in any condition to drive. I can call you a taxi,” he said, his hand on his hip.
“I’ll drive … It’s better than waiting here for a cab.”
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. Why the hell is he carrying them on a date?
“I’m Detective Garrett Fitzpatricks. Here’s my card. If you need any assistance, for any reason, please don’t hesitate to call me. Call me anytime.”
She nodded and vanished out the door, the trembling card in her hand.
Garrett barrelled into the dining room, and, exhaling like a bull in the ring before a fight with a matador, headed for the man at the table with a recently vacated seat. Self-absorbed, dabbing at the red wine stain on his shirt with a cloth napkin, the guy didn’t notice anyone looming over him.
“In the future, keep your hands off that lady!” Garrett shouted, drawing the entire restaurant’s attention and triggering a chain reaction of silverware being dropped among startled diners.
The man puffed out his chest, threw his napkin down, and, jumping up, spat, “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Mind your own damn business, asshole!”
Unlike the rest of the squad, who wore shoulder holsters, Garrett preferred to keep his service revolver at his waist, within quick reach. Right now, the location was quite tempting. Too tempting.
Garrett balled his hands into tight fists. “Since I’m a police officer, do I need to repeat my warning?!” he fumed. “I hope that lady charges you with assault. Not only am I a witness, but I also want to be the one to haul you off to jail!”
The guy gaped, turned as pale as his light-colored shirt, and tumbled silently but heavily into his chair.
Garrett stomped back to the dinner table, his adrenaline running high. He viewed men who assaulted women and committed murder on the same level, equally despicable.
“I thought you were off duty?” Bonnie quizzed, a brow raised, as he returned.
Not in the mood for his date before, and even less now, he wanted to call it quits and let her find her own way home.
“I’m never off duty!”
He dropped into his seat, confident that Bonnie’s list of potential marital partners had just shrunk by one. As for Garrett, another woman quickly took her place. Who is she?