Murder Hooks a Mermaid (25 page)

“I guess he’s walking home,” Karen said finally, picking up the car key and stuffing it in her pocket.

We tried to resume the conversation, but Riley’s exit left us all tiptoeing around the topic of Bobby and his problems.

“Stop it,” Karen said. “That was embarrassing, sure. But you all know Riley and I couldn’t stay married. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that our conversations can get a little, um, intense.

“I’m still going to Jacksonville in the morning, and I’m still going to try and learn if there is a connection between Megan Moretti and our two friends from Callahan.”

“And if there isn’t?” I voiced the question that was in all our minds.

“Then I’ll know. And Megan Moretti can have
both
the Freed brothers if she wants them. But I need to find out. Because if it exists, that connection might be the one thing
that can get Riley back on his damned boat, and out of my hair.

“Now what’s for dessert?”

I didn’t believe for a minute that she wanted Riley out of her hair. I had seen her put up a brave front before, and she wasn’t fooling me. There would be tears later, but for now she had to pretend that everything was fine.

Ernie rose gracefully from his seat, grateful for a safe topic. “Bananas Foster,” he announced. “If you’ll just give me a few minutes.”

He retreated into the kitchen.

“And I thought Ernie’s dessert was going to be the biggest fireworks display tonight,” Felipe muttered.

I couldn’t help giggling.

Karen gave me a dirty look, but it was her own fault. She knew, better than any of us, how much she and Riley made each other crazy, and she’d been an active part of their reconciliation, from what I’d seen. The fireworks had been inevitable.

As Ernie started cooking, we all drifted toward the stove, eager to watch what he was doing. None of us had ever actually tried making the dessert, though we’d all eaten it.

It was always fun to watch Ernie. Of all of us, he was the most practiced in the kitchen. Though he denied it, Felipe claimed Ernie had worked in some of the best-known kitchens in New Orleans, and had had the opportunity to observe some of the masters up close. Whether he actually had or not, he was an entertaining—and accomplished—cook.

Like a chef on television, he had his ingredients laid out ahead of time. He carried a tray from the walk-in pantry
with several small bowls of ingredients and a bunch of pale yellow bananas.

He put a heavy skillet on the burner, turned the flame on low, and put in most of a stick of butter. While the butter melted, he peeled the bananas and split them lengthwise, laying them gently on a plate.

He was enjoying himself—not just the cooking, but performing for an admiring audience—as he added brown sugar and spices to the melted butter. He stirred in the sugar and spice, and poured in a bright yellow, syrupy liquid.

“Banana liqueur,” Felipe offered, acting as commentator to Ernie’s performance. “Don’t worry, the alcohol will cook off.”

“Not entirely,” Jake said. “But some of it will.”

Ignoring the conversation, Ernie stirred until the sauce began to simmer. Working carefully, he laid the bananas in the gently bubbling sauce, and spooned the hot liquid over them before turning them over.

While he worked, Felipe took a carton of French vanilla ice cream from the freezer, and carried in a second tray from the pantry. On the second tray, each of a set of six dessert plates held a small waffle.

Ernie placed two banana halves over each waffle, then turned back to his sauce. I could see a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and I knew something special was coming.

He took the next-to-last bowl from his ingredient tray, full of a dark, aromatic liquid. As he started to pour, I identified the smell of dark rum.

The rum hit the hot syrup, igniting into blue flames. Ernie stirred carefully as the rum burned for a minute or two. When the flames died out, he tossed in the contents of
the remaining bowl, finely grated orange zest, and ladled syrup over each banana-covered waffle.

As soon as Ernie ladled on the syrup, Felipe added a scoop of ice cream and handed each of us a plate. We put the plates on the table and broke into a spontaneous round of applause.

Ernie flashed us a brilliant smile and took a bow.

Somehow, while we were all watching Ernie, Felipe had managed to make a fresh pot of coffee. We settled back at the table to try Ernie’s creation.

The aroma was heavenly, but the flavor was out of this world. Spicy-sweet syrup contrasted with the mellow flavor of the sautéed bananas, and each bite was a combination of textures: crunchy waffle, firm banana, and the smooth creaminess of the ice cream.

“Ernie,” I said between bites, “you have outdone yourself this time.”

Next to me, Jake groaned. He swallowed a bite and rolled his eyes. “I wondered why you didn’t eat very much dinner.”

“I should have warned you. Ernie really likes to make desserts. I mean, he’s good at everything, but he goes all out on dessert. I’ve learned to save room.”

“I wish I had,” Jake said. “I’m stuffed, but this stuff is so good, I can’t stop eating.” As if to prove his point, he lifted another forkful to his mouth.

I started to say that Riley didn’t know what he was missing, but thought better of it. Because Riley was missing a lot more than dessert tonight.

Karen ate quietly, caught up in her own thoughts. She had always been decisive, willing to trust her own judgment. But this time she was facing a cost she hadn’t expected.

She turned down a cup of coffee, saying she had to get home and get some sleep so she could make the drive to Jacksonville in the morning.

I walked to the door with her, while the three men remained discreetly at the table. I was Karen’s oldest and closest friend, and they chose to give us a few private moments.

“Don’t you dare say ‘I told you so,’” she said the minute we were out of earshot. “Do not say it.”

“I wasn’t going to. In fact, I was going to ask if you needed some company. I rode with Jake, and I can go with you if you want.”

She shook her head. “I knew better than to get involved with him again. I
knew
better. But I thought—I hoped—things had changed.” She put her arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home to go to sleep, and I’m driving to Jacksonville at first light. By this time tomorrow I expect we’ll have our answer.”

Chapter 31

JAKE AND I LINGERED A FEW MINUTES LONGER
, helping Felipe and Ernie clear the table and get the dishwasher loaded. Given the feast Ernie had prepared, it seemed fair.

Ernie took advantage of the traffic in the kitchen and dining room to draw me aside for a moment. “Felipe and I have been talking,” he said softly, “and we were thinking about asking you and Karen if you wanted to expand our dinners to six.

“Of course, after tonight that doesn’t seem likely,” he cut his eyes toward the front door, where Riley and then Karen had already departed. “And it seems insensitive to suggest it right now. But give it some thought, and we’ll bring it up after things have settled down.”

It looked like Jake had passed muster. Felipe and Ernie had not only accepted him, they wanted to reach out and
include him in our circle. It was as if they were giving their blessing to our budding relationship.

“Thanks, Ernie. And tell Felipe thanks, too. I’ll give it some thought.”

I had two concerns about his suggestion. First, I still had some unanswered questions about Jake, questions I would need to settle somehow before he became a permanent—or even semipermanent—part of my life.

And second, how would his inclusion change the group dynamic if Karen was the only unattached person? Like I said, she was my oldest and closest friend, and I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.

A few minutes later, the kitchen once again spotless and the dishwasher humming quietly, Jake and I thanked our hosts again and headed out to the car.

As we pulled away from the curb, Jake spoke up. “If you don’t mind, I think maybe we ought to take a little spin past the Mermaid’s Grotto. We could have a little nightcap in the bar, have another look around…” His voice trailed off, as though it had just been a random thought.

I knew better. Jake thought Karen was right, that there was a connection between Megan Moretti and the two men from Callahan, and he wanted to take another look at her with that thought in mind.

“I suppose we could,” I said, matching his casual tone. “I don’t know where I’d
put
a nightcap, but I like the idea.”

So instead of turning toward home, Jake turned toward the docks. Mermaid’s Grotto was one of the few places open after dark, and there was plenty of parking in the public lot.

I was just about to get out of the car when I spotted something that made my heart stop.

Riley Freed’s truck, parked next to Mermaid’s Grotto. Where Megan Moretti was working.

I didn’t for a second believe he was involved in anything underhanded, but Karen’s remark came back to me with the force of a blow to the midsection.

“Megan Moretti can have
both
the Freed brothers if she wants them.”

Megan had always wanted Riley, and maybe Bobby, too. Now it looked like she just might get her wish.

“Are you going to get out?” Jake was standing by the car, holding my door open.

I shook my head, still staring at the truck. Jake followed my gaze, but he didn’t know Riley’s truck, and he turned back, a questioning frown on his face.

“Is there a problem?”

I nodded. “Get back in the car. Please. Hurry!”

Jake didn’t stop to ask questions. He closed the door and walked back around, sliding in behind the steering wheel.

“You okay? You’re acting really strange.”

“We can’t stay here,” I said. I pointed to the well-worn pickup parked on the far side of the lot. “Riley’s here.”

“Riley?”

“That’s his truck.”

“Do you think he’s involved in this?” Jake was incredulous. “I would never have guessed.”

“No, no, no. I can’t imagine a world where Riley Freed would be involved in anything shady. But he just broke up with his ex-wife—
again
—and there’s a hot babe in there who’s been after him since she was thirteen.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” he said, starting the car and pulling out of the
parking space, “that it may just be a guy drowning his sorrows. Or it may be a guy looking for a sympathetic shoulder. Either way, it’s none of our business.”

As we drove away, I sighed deeply. “I wish you were right,” I said. “But two of my best friends just broke each other’s hearts for the second time. At some point it will end up being my business.”

We drove the few blocks home without speaking. Jake walked me to the door of Southern Treasures and waited, as had become his habit, while I checked the alarms and the doors. Then he kissed me good night and lingered on the sidewalk until I locked the door behind him and reset the alarm.

Bluebeard’s wolf whistle cut through the shop as soon as Jake’s back was turned.

“Is that necessary?”

The only answer I got was a cackle. It was as close as he could come to a laugh. Apparently it amused him to harass me.

“Just for that, no banana.”

“Banana?”

It was a hollow threat, and we both knew it.

Bluebeard didn’t have anything else to say while I gave him his treat and checked his water. But just before I went upstairs, he said clearly, “People don’t come back for no reason.”

I had a hunch Megan Moretti’s reason just might be Riley Freed. And the thought saddened me as I climbed the stairs to bed.

Things didn’t look any better in the morning. Karen texted me from Tallahassee at about nine thirty. She was
making good time, and had a lunch date with someone she called “an old friend” when she got to Jacksonville. She said she’d call as soon as she knew anything.

I managed to last another hour before I was pacing the floor. I had to know why Megan had come back. Did she have her sights set on one of the Freed brothers? And if so, which one?

She had seemed sincerely glad to see me the night Jake and I had been in the Grotto, and I thought we’d had a connection. Maybe I could at least talk to her.

And if she thought she was serious about Riley, maybe I could convince her it wasn’t a good idea.

I made up my mind. Mermaid’s Grotto would be closed for another half hour, but the crew should be there, getting ready for lunch. Maybe I could get a few minutes with Megan before she started her shift.

I knew I shouldn’t meddle, but I just felt like I had to do something before I exploded. It gave me a lot of sympathy for Riley.

I stopped at The Lighthouse for a latte-flavored bribe. If I was going to make a quick trip to Mermaid’s Grotto, I was going to need a car, and I didn’t have one of my own.

Jake didn’t like the idea, even with the lagniappe of a free latte. Maybe I should have brought a scone, too.

“All I want to do is borrow your car for half an hour,” I said. “Maybe if I can talk to Megan I can find out if she’s really after Riley. And if she is, maybe I can talk her out of it.”

“That’s nuts!”

“Maybe so, but I have to try. Now, can I borrow your car, or do I have to walk?”

Jake shook his head. “You are one of the most stubborn women I have ever met.” He walked over to the front door, flipped the lock, and hung up the sign with a clock face that said he’d be back at eleven fifteen.

“Half an hour,” he said. “And I’m going with you.”

I knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue.

The parking lot at Mermaid’s Grotto was empty except for a few employee cars ranged along the back fence. I showed Jake the path around the building to the back door, where a bored-looking dishwasher lounged against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

“Is Megan working?” I asked in my sweetest voice.

The guy shrugged. Did that mean yes or no?

“Is she here?”

Another shrug.

“
Habla ingles
?” Jake asked.

He shook his head, and dropped the cigarette in the gravel, grinding it beneath his heavy rubber boot. Then, without speaking, he opened the back door and went inside.