Liver Let Die Page 10

  After placing them facedown in the center, she fanned the deck before glancing toward Alex. “Take your time and pick the one that seems to be drawing you to it.”

  This is getting a little ridiculous.

  But unless he played along, he probably wouldn’t find out why Jordan had stopped by. Slowly, he reached in, prepared to grab the card at the far end, when an impulse sent him to the middle of the pile for a card concealed at the bottom. After retrieving it, he handed it to the psychic.

  “This is your Relationship card,” she explained, placing it directly in the center of the cloth, facing him.

  After several more picks, there was a total of six cards which Lola placed in a circle around the first one. Then she moved the white candle back to the center, vacated when she picked up the card there.

  “We’ll start with the Relationship Guidance.” She turned the card over to reveal a picture of a man staring sadly at three cups of spilled wine without seeing the other two still upright. “You’ve chosen the Five of Cups.”

  Alex smirked, not sure he wanted to know what that meant. He glanced nervously at his watch, wondering how he could extricate himself from this séance before she went any further. He’d had a long day and hadn’t stopped for lunch. Any hope of getting her to discuss Jordan was dwindling by the second, and a nice quiet night at home with a tray of pizza and cable TV sounded inviting.

  Not to mention, this whole spirit thing was freaking him out.

  “You’ve waited a long time for that special person to come into your life. You’ve had several ‘almost’ opportunities that haven’t panned out, and you’ve given up hope of ever finding that one woman to complete you.” She paused and met his gaze. “You obsess over what is lost rather than looking forward to what might be right in front of you.”

  Alex thought of Jordan. How ironic that he’d finally met a girl who looked like she did and made him laugh, about the same time an old woman told him he would meet a special person in his life. More ironic was it looked like his dream girl probably knew her way around a knife.

  “Open your eyes and quit looking for what is wrong in the world. Get past your own blindness and see the good in your life.”

  He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words. The woman had to be reading his mail.

  “Your next card is the Moon.” Lola closed her eyes again. “There are important facts hidden from your view right now. When you discover them, you’ll have choices to make about your career and other personal matters in your life. By the next full moon, it will all be clear to you.”

  “Hey, Lola, it’s after five. Why are you still here? Did you forget about tonight?”

  Both Lola and Alex looked up as a man rattled the beaded door.

  “Oh, sorry,” the guy said. “I didn’t know you had a client.” A sheepish grin covered his face. “There are no cars parked out front.”

  Alex sized up the newcomer, trying to decide if he’d need his weapon. The guy was Hispanic, about five eight with dark hair, wearing a red vest over a red and gray plaid shirt that matched his gray Dockers. Either he had just left an Ivy League frat party or he’d walked away from the nineteenth hole at a country club somewhere.

  Alex relaxed. No way this guy was a threat. “It’s getting late, Lola.” He reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you for the session?”

  “I never charge unless I do a full reading. Do you want to continue?”

  Not in this lifetime!

  She was hitting too close to home, and although he didn’t know how she did it, he still wasn’t buying into this mumbo-jumbo. “He said you have plans tonight, and I don’t want to hold you up. Besides, I need to head home, anyway.”

  “I’m Victor Rodriguez,” the Ivy Leaguer said. “I own the antiques store next door, and I’m a friend of Lola’s.”

  Alex squirmed, sure the guy was checking him out. “Alex Montgomery,” he responded, accepting Victor’s handshake. “I’m new to Ranchero and saw Lola’s place. Decided to give it a whirl.”

  “Lola’s a master at giving you a new perspective on life.” Victor paused. “You said you were new in town?”

  Alex nodded, again feeing uncomfortable under Victor’s gaze.

  “Married?”

  “No, why?”

  “Attached?”

  When Alex shook his head, Victor smiled. “Can you carry a tune?”

  “I’ve been known to hold my own with my sisters and an Everly Brothers song or two. Why do you ask?”

  “A bunch of us are heading to Connor tonight to a little bar on the corner of Ames and Loy Lake Road. It’s karaoke night.”

  “I couldn’t barge in on your party,” Alex protested.

  “Nonsense!” Lola exclaimed. “It’s just a small group of friends getting together to blow off steam. We’d love for you to join us.” She turned to Victor. “Before I forget, Jordan stopped by. Said she had something to do and would meet up with us later at Cowboys.”

  At the mention of Jordan’s name, Alex perked up. So, these were Jordan’s friends. Suddenly the prospect of drinking margaritas and getting an up-close and personal view of Jordan when her guard was down escalated on his checklist of things to do.

  “Sounds good,” Victor said, before turning back to Alex. “So, are you coming?”

  “If you’re sure it will be okay with the others.” He felt the heat spread across his face. This man was definitely checking him out.

  “Of course it will. See you at seven.”

  Back in his car, Alex let the smile he’d held back finally spread across his face. This might be the break he needed. He’d be able to observe Jordan in her own backyard as he tried to figure out what was going on.

  Pulling into traffic on Main Street, he drove toward the Pizza Palace to grab a slice or two before heading home. A niggling thought found its way into his head as he remembered Lola’s words when she’d held the Relationship card.

  You won’t have long to wait for that special person.

  He hoped she was wrong.

  CHAPTER 10

  Jordan pulled into the parking lot at Cowboys Bar and Grill, grumbling silently for being so late. Karaoke night always packed them in, and tonight was no exception. She drove around the lot twice before finally parking down the street.

  She hoped the others had arrived early enough to snag a good table. She was so in the mood to sit down with her friends and forget about her week with a pitcher of margaritas and a microphone. While her singing ability was something best left for the shower, the same could be said for most of the people who showed up on karaoke night, especially after they’d consumed a few beers.

  What sounded like Carrie Underwood to her own ears came out more like Willie Nelson on estrogen to everyone else. But tonight she didn’t care. Although the gang didn’t come here often, they always had a blast when they did, and she definitely needed to get her mind off J. T. and his killer.

  Usually everyone crammed into Ray’s vehicle for the excursion. He’d given up drinking in his early twenties, the summer before he went off to the police academy, and was the official designated driver. After hearing stories of his pre–Alcoholics Anonymous days, Jordan understood why. His forty-year clean and sober record, along with his ninepassenger Suburban, made him the perfect chauffeur.

  That was no help tonight. Her spur-of-the-moment trip to Grayson County College after work meant she’d have to go easy on the margaritas or leave her car in Connor, which was something she’d prefer not to do.

  And the kicker? It had been a totally wasted trip. She’d gone there hoping to talk with Derrick Young again, praying he’d blurt out something in the heat of anger. Although he made her blood run cold, she’d looked forward to getting him off to the side without the coach hovering when she had another go at him.

  None of which happened. Because of an away game on Saturday night, the coach had cut practice short, and according to the groundskeeper, she’d missed them by about thirty minutes.r />
  Quickening her step when she heard the sounds of a good time a half block away from the bar, Jordan wondered if the people who lived nearby ever complained. If they did, it had obviously fallen on deaf ears.

  After pushing through the door, she spotted the gang immediately. They’d commandeered a huge table two rows back from the stage where a girl resembling Dolly Parton held the mic. Unfortunately, that’s where the resemblance ended. Her rendition of “I Will Always Love You,” reminded Jordan of a cat in heat on the high notes.

  Weaving her way through the standing-room-only crowd hugging the bar, Jordan waved when Rosie noticed her, swinging her arms like a cheerleader. Jordan’s exuberance quickly faded when she recognized Quincy Dozerly sitting beside Rosie. Spending more time with that man was not her idea of a good time and letting her hair down.

  And what was up with his hat that read WOOF ARTED?

  This was the guy who was supposed to keep her out of jail if the police discovered the missing knife and dragged her down to the station for more questions?

  Trying to re-create the happy face, Jordan changed directions and moved to the other end of the table where the rest of the gang sat, facing the stage as they watched the wannabe Dolly slaughtering the song.

  Who is that next to Victor? she wondered, staring at the back of an unfamiliar head.

  “There you are, Jordan!” Victor exclaimed, his face lighting up when he saw her.

  She relaxed and gave him a hug when he jumped up to greet her. “Darn! You guys started without me,” she said, pointing to the two empty margarita pitchers.

  “Victor’s already wowed us with his version of ‘Bad to the Bone,’” Michael said, obviously as proud as if his partner were the next American Idol. “Take a load off. Sit next to Alex.” He gestured toward the empty chair next to the stranger.

  Alex?

  When the man turned to face her and flashed his pearly whites, Jordan’s heart began to beat like a drummer on speed.

  “Jordan, meet Alex Montgomery.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “We’ve already met.”

  Michael turned to the newcomer. “You didn’t mention you already knew our Jordan.”

  Alex shrugged, his eyes holding her captive. “I didn’t connect the name,” he said. “We shared lunch one day last week.”

  “Great,” Michael said. “Sit, Jordan. We’ve got to get you juiced so we can hear that Shania Twain you did the last time we were here.”

  “Not!” Victor joked, pouring a margarita from one of the three full pitchers the waitress had just placed on the table. “Here, sweetie, drink up.”

  No way Jordan wanted to sit next to Alex, but other than the one next to Quincy Dozerly, it was the only empty chair. Plopping down as gracefully as she could with his intense stare unnerving her, she decided things could be worse. She could be forced to make small talk with Dozerly while he played “touchy-feely” with Rosie.

  Gag me!

  She reached for the glass, scolding herself for not absolutely hating being stuck next to Alex.

  “Why didn’t you return my calls?” Alex asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

  She so wanted to fire back, Why’d you ransack my apartment? “Busy, I guess,” she said, squirming in her seat. Up close, his Paul Newman eyes were burning a hole in her brain. She looked away, pretending to be interested in the guy on the stage singing and dancing in a hard-to-watch James Brown imitation.

  When the guy spun around, Jordan nearly spit her drink across the table. His T-shirt had pulled out of the back of his waistband, worn low because of his beer belly, and the whole world got an up-close-and-personal look at his “line of demarcation.”

  “Think of it as rear cleavage,” Alex said, handing her a cocktail napkin to mop up the spill.

  Despite her best efforts, Jordan laughed, blotting the margarita from her chin. “Please God, keep him facing us, or I’ll never get through this drink without making an even bigger fool of myself,” she quipped. The liquor, already warming her insides, had begun to erase the day’s tension and make it easier to talk to her unexpected companion.

  “This is becoming an everyday thing.”

  “What is?”

  “Watching liquids shoot from your nose.” He reached up and wiped a droplet from her cheek.

  Trying unsuccessfully to recover some of her dignity, Jordan did the one thing she shouldn’t. She stuck her tongue out at him, a carry-over from growing up with brothers. “A gentleman doesn’t remind a girl about things like that.”

  “Who says I’m a gentleman?”

  He leaned close enough for Jordan to get a whiff of aftershave, and for a second, she thought he was about to kiss her.

  Like a dork, she closed her eyes.

  After what seemed like an eternity with no kiss, she glanced up to see him smiling down at her.

  “I will if you want me to,” he teased playfully.

  Feeling the blush shimmy up her cheeks, Jordan reached for the pitcher. If she had to tolerate this man all night, she’d need help. She glared when he took the pitcher from her and refilled the glass.

  “The cat seems to get your tongue a lot, Jordan. Do you want me to kiss you or not?”

  The heat consumed her face and she bit down hard on her lower lip. “Look, Montgomery,” she started, searching for some way to come out of this without looking totally lame. “You obviously think there’s some chemistry going on between us. I assure you, it’s wishful thinking.”

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but Jordan wasn’t about to admit she visualized rose petals and silk sheets every time she looked his way.

  “I’d suggest you have another drink, too.” She paused briefly before adding, “Or take a cold shower.”

  Alex threw back his head and laughed out loud, causing the others to stop talking and look their way. “Jordan wants to sing with me,” Alex lied.

  Lola raised her arm in the air. “Yes! But she needs at least one more margarita.”

  “That can be arranged,” Jordan said, grateful Alex hadn’t outed her for the idiot kissing thing. She chugged the last half of her current drink and slammed the empty glass in front of him. “Let’s do it!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, before his facial expression turned somber. “Sure you can handle it?”

  “You trying to back out of singing with me?” She prayed that was exactly what he was doing. Letting him hear what could never be described as one of her talents was not particularly enticing, especially after she’d already made a complete fool of herself in front of him.

  But she didn’t want to be the one to back out of a challenge. She’d like to be able to walk out of this place with at least some of her dignity intact.

  “Alex knows the Everly Brothers, Jordan. How about you two get up there and impress us with ‘Dream’?” Victor hollered to be heard above the current karaoke singer.

  “I don’t know that one,” Jordan said, adding a dig Alex’s way. “That’s a little before my time.”

  Instead of commenting, he grabbed her arm and lifted her off the chair. “Come on. Who doesn’t know ‘Dream’? The words will come up on the screen.” His eyes narrowed. “Unless this is a pathetic copout.”

  Jordan whirled around toward the stage, surprised by how dizzy she felt. Three margaritas usually didn’t affect her like this. Then she remembered she’d missed dinner to hurry to the college. She should have stopped at the 7-Eleven for a burrito.

  “Well?”

  “Bring it on,” she challenged, heading for the stage.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Alex reached over to give her a push up onto the stage. “I’ll take the harmony.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened, realizing his hands were on her hips. She prayed he’d be able to boost her up there. How much more embarrassment could she take?

  “You’re on,” she said, after he lifted her in a single swoop.

  Thank you, Jesus.

  She watched as Alex hashed out the
details with the disc jockey, silently praying the song was not in the catalog.

  “Ready?” Alex handed her a microphone. “Don’t forget. You have the high part.”

  Crap!

  When the record began, Jordan surprised herself and held her own. Before long, everyone in the bar was hooting and hollering. There were even a few whistles. As much as she hated to admit it, Alex had a nice voice and canceled out her not-so-nice one.

  When the song ended, he picked her off her feet and swung her around. “You did the Everlys proud.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” She laughed, taking his hand when he helped her off the stage over shouts from the loosened-up crowd for an encore.

  The night turned out to be the best stress reliever Jordan could imagine and a nice ending to a horrendous week. Everyone took turns belting out a song or two. Jordan eventually did her Shania Twain imitation of “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” complete with a black boa the DJ handed her for effect.

  Closing time came way too soon, and everyone began to pile out. After two more margaritas, Jordan was feeling really relaxed and looking at Alex in a whole different light. Brett had always joked she went through three stages when she drank. Giggly, then frisky, but you had to get her home quickly because sleepy soon followed.

  “Where are your keys?” Alex asked, helping her weave toward the exit.

  “I’ll take her,” Lola said. “We’re all going to the Burger Hut for a late-night snack.”

  Jordan groaned. Her empty stomach couldn’t handle a greasy burger right now.

  “You go on,” Alex said. “I’ll get her home safely. You guys can check on her when you get back.”

  “Jordan?” Lola asked, stepping closer.

  “It’s okay, Lola. I just want to climb into bed.” She gasped, hearing her own comment. “I didn’t mean …”

  “I know what you meant,” Alex responded. “I’m pooped, too. We’ll leave my car in the parking lot and I’ll drive yours home. Tomorrow I’ll pick you up and you can drive me back over here to get it.”

  “Okay,” she said, getting another whiff of his aftershave. Calvin Klein’s Obsession. He was wearing the cologne her first real boyfriend had worn, a nice manly fragrance that made her nostalgic. The roses and silk sheets idea snapped back into her brain, and she forced it away once more.