Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (23 page)

"I really don't think I need to make a complaint."

"It might escalate. I know you think Edward is under a lot of pr
essure, but it could get worse,” she said, slowly and seriously, her eyes widening with
unelicited
warning.

"I'm fine, really. It was nothing."

Louisa set her cup down. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Right next door," I said
, smiling
.

"And my door is always open." Louisa patted my arm.
"If you want to go home, I'll clear it with Edward."

"Really, Louisa, I'm okay. It's nothing. I'm sure it'll all blow over." I put on a brave face
and made sure I didn’t smile
. By morning, our little tussle should be all over the hotel.

~

My notes told
me Ted finished work at seven. B
y six thirty
,
I'd
parked
with
in eyeballing distance of the parking garage
of Becker, Hughes and Whitman,
and waited. If I was
extra
lucky
,
I might also get a glimpse of Donna Keegan, his mistress.

My stomach rumbled ominously, reminding me it had been five hours since I'd eaten a cheese sandwich and a sugared donut
;
and three hours since Amanda Michaels had appeared in my office doorway
,
bearing a plate of
freshly
baked chocolate chip cookies and a sympathetic smile. Gossip traveled fast.

I rooted through the glove compartment in search of snacks,
and found
four mints in a dog-eared wrapper
. I
sucked on them while I waited. It didn't solve the hunger issue
,
but I had great breath.

By the time I spotted Ted leaving the office
,
wearing a pinstripe suit and carrying his coat over his arm, I was raring to go.
As I watched,
a woman teetered up to him in platform heels, sliding her arm through his
, all the while
keeping
her back to me. I suppressed a smile as
he shook her off, saying something sharp that made her take a step backwards. Sh
e darted a glance around her.
I'd recognize her face anywhere
,
even though her blonde hair was swept up into the kind of chignon that I never had the patience to try. Donna Keegan. Ted strode off, leaving her rooted to the sidewalk, then she followed a few steps behind as he rounded the corner to the parking garage. Just as they got inside the structure, he grabbed her and kissed her furiously
, his hands roaming downwards to grasp her butt
as he pressed her against the wall
.
For a moment
,
I looked on, horrified.

“
Shit! Where
’
s my camera?
”
I
searched
for it, sighing at its absence, and
grabbed my cell phone
. I
plugged in the pin
code
and set it to camera mode, snapping some fuzzy shots of their
saliva
swapping.
“
Barf
-o-meter rating: gross,” I mustered as
I snapped again while they straightened up their suits and marched
further
inside
the structure
. A moment later
,
I caught sight of the woman heading in one direction
,
alone. Ted must have parked somewhere else.

What would they do now? The investigator in me hoped they were heading to a secret tryst. The good sister part of me hoped Ted's car was going to explode with him inside it. Then maybe Donna would try and rescue him
,
and her hair would all
burn
off. I shuddered. Apparently
,
I had a mean and nasty imagination.

Ted's Mercedes pulled out first, then Donna's
Cruiser
appeared right behind his, giving me a moment of indecision. Which one
shoul
d I follow? Ted
,
to see
where
he
went
? Or Donna, to see wh
ere
she
went
?

Fortunately, they made the decision for me
by
both head
ing
in the same direction. I pulled out into the traffic a couple of cars behind, fully aware that Ted may be looking in
his rear
view mirror to see if Donna w
ere
following him, and if he was alert
,
he might spot me too. Donna, I was less worried about. I imagined she had her eyes firmly
fastened
on Ted, his almost new Mercedes
,
the new wardrobe
,
and all the longer hemlines
she could
finally
afford if she snared him.

I shook my head in exasperation. I'd never been one to believe that mistresses couldn't help themselves
. Nor
that they just
loved
the wrong guy
and
fell for the line
,
“
I
don't have a re
al marriage
;
I love you
,
not her
.
”
From what I could see
,
everyone
was free to
help
himself. I
f you loved the wrong, and very married person, you did the decent thing and wait
ed
until they
were
free
;
or d
id
yourself one better,
by
find
ing
someone worthy. Of course, most of my matrimonial observations came from Daniel's divorce when his wife left him for her French tutor. I wondered if Donna was a calculating little bitch who had no problem sleeping with someone else's husband
;
or if she'd really fallen for the rubbish I could imagine Ted spouting to his gullible junior. Either way, I loathed them both.

I caught
sight of them
as they turned onto Century Street and cursed as they sped off. By the time the lights changed, neither car was anywhere
in sight,
so I crossed my fingers and headed in their direction, figuring I would follow whomever I spotted first.

Five minutes later
,
I got lucky and spotted both cars outside a small strip of bars and shops in a trendy new area that was known for
attracting
the
most astute of the
post work crowd. I pulled in opposite and scanned the area
,
wondering where they could be. There was a small Italian restaurant, Monty's,
which
I l
oved and did the best take
out pizza in the whole of Montgomery. The
pizzeria
had been there forever and Ted would have to be really stupid to take his bit on the side in there. To the right
,
there was a bank, now closed, a boutique that sold really cute purses, a
nd
beside that a shop, now shut down, its windows whitewashed against
peepers. There was a Greek rest
a
u
rant
,
advertising meze
,
and a sports bar with the biggest flat
-
screen television I'd ever seen. I couldn't work out where
Ted and Donna
were.

I turned to look behind me
,
and immediately ducked as Ted and Donna walked past my car and into the bar opposite.

Gah! I still hadn't
any
chance to get my good camera
,
and here they were
,
on another secret date. It was almost like they were taunting me.
S
et
ting my cell phone
’
s camera
to
“
video,
”
I held
it up to my car door window and s
ank
further into my seat. Through the small
LCD
screen, I watched as Donna grabbed a booth by the window and Ted went to get their drinks, frowning when he saw where she
was sitting
. When his drinks were served, he walked over, said something, and Donna looked around, then got up, scowling
,
and followed Ted towards the back,
where
the tall counter cut off my view.
Clearly
,
Donna had less of a problem being seen than Ted did. Maybe he told her he was separated. Maybe she didn’t care.

"Damn,
"
I muttered as the
y
edged out of
the
shot.

My passenger side door was wrenched open at that moment
,
and I swung around in time,
dropping my phone,
a scream frozen in my throat, to see Solomon slide into the empty seat,
as he moved
my purse to the backseat. The scream slipped out as a squeal.

"Hello." Solomon stretched his long legs out
as he shut the door
.
He turned chocolate eyes on me and looked over my suit, though whether it was appreciative or not was anyone’s guess.

My heart thumped. "Hi."

"What are you doing?"

I
stuck my hand down the side of the seat, flailing around until my fingers connected with the phone. Drawing it up, I stopped
the video and slipped my cell
phone into my pocket. "Nothing,
"
I lied.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"You're doing nothing? Here? At seven twenty?" Solomon raised his eyebrows.

"Thinking about getting coffee. I ran out." I raised my own eyebrows and waited for Solomon to get out. He didn't.

Instead, he asked, "Thought about going to the grocery store?"

"Good idea. Didn't think of that.
Thanks for the tip.
"

"How are things going at the hotel?"

"I got Killjoy to pick a fight with me. Now everyone feels sorry for me and they're starting to talk. Plus
,
they bring me cookies when they feel sorry for me." I thought about offering one
from the
paper baggie
in my purse
,
and thought better of it. Served him right for dropping in unannounced.

Solomon nodded approvingly. "Good thinking. I like a ruse that works."

I held my
breath
,
waiting for him to say “unlike this one
,
”
but he didn't. I suspected he wasn't entirely sure what I was doing. Then again, he probabl
y knew exactly what I was doing and was waiting to see what I would say.

Silently,
I waited a moment for him to demand to know exactly what I
was
doing, parked
(
apparently
)
randomly on the side of the road
. Then,
I could answer, truthfully, I wasn't working on anyt
hing that he told me not to. B
ut for a long time
,
he didn't say anything
,
and I was starting to feel like I would confess any moment
under his scrutiny
. Instead, I asked
the obvious
, "How did you find me here?"

"Saw you as I drove past."

“Huh.”
I looked over his clothes. Today
,
he wore black pants, a black shirt
,
and
a navy tie with the most subtle stripes
, edged in a single thread of silver,
that only showed when the light hit. He was gorgeous
…
and far too smart for an early evening mid-week.
Suspicion hit me.
"Going anywhere nice?"
I asked.

"No." Solomon wasn't much of a conversation starter, or
participant
either, and he clearly favored
flat
monosyllables that couldn't get him into trouble. I wondered if he was going on a date. If he even dated. And then I tried to imagine what kind of women he dated. I bet they were tall and smart, with glossy hair and genius level IQs. He probably dated shady, but beautiful, government types who wore their sexuality like a weapon. They probably wore spike heels that doubled as stiletto knives and Solomon probably just looked at them and made them melt. Conversation would be furtive signals, subtle words, and smokin' body language.
It definitely
wouldn’t be
pillow fight ruses.