She couldn’t see any reason to lie to him. “FBI.”
“I knew it!” he said. “I knew it.” Then he grew serious. “So they’re here to help? Thank God. I mean, bodies don’t usually pop up like that in this city. We have our criminal element, but who doesn’t? I’m glad they’ve— Oh, man, is it true? Do cops and FBI agents really not get along? Do the cops get resentful when the FBI is called in?”
She smiled. “Grant, I have no idea. I’ve never been with a group that’s been called in. Actually, I haven’t been with a group at all. I was ready to be given an assignment...but then, well, Gus. And my superior back in Virginia told me to check in when I’d taken care of my family affairs.”
“Keep me posted!” he told her.
“I will,” she promised. “Hey, Roger doesn’t happen to be in here, huh? I don’t see him at the bar.”
“Yeah, he’s here.” Grant lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s with a date.”
“A date? Impressive.”
“They’re in the far dining room.”
“Should I interrupt?” Abby wondered.
“It’s your place. You can just wander by and ask if everything’s all right. By the way, are you having the actors do the reenactment this Saturday? I’ll need to call them.”
“Grant, you and Macy manage the place,” she reminded him. “You decide.”
“Still have to know the new owner’s mind,” Grant told her.
“I’m an absentee owner, and I think you two do a great job managing the place.”
He gave her a hug. “Macy and I get along well, and we’ll make sure you’re never disappointed.” She hugged him back, and then disentangled herself. “I’m going to swing over and say hello to Roger.”
Roger was in a little nook in the far dining room. He was leaning over the table, close to his date, a pretty girl with dark brown hair and a sweet gamine face.
The girl saw Abby first and indicated to Roger that someone was coming. He pulled back, said, “Hi, Abby,” and started to get up.
“Sit, Roger, I’m just stopping by to see how everything’s going,” she said.
“Fabulous.” He widened his eyes at her. “Abby Anderson, this is Bianca Salzburg. Bianca, Abby, who owns this place.”
“Pleased to meet you. And it’s wonderful,” Bianca said.
“Thanks. I’m glad to hear that. Do you two need anything?”
“Nope. You hire the best. Which includes me,” he told his date. “You’ll see when I play Blue Anderson on Saturday.” He looked at Abby. “Am I playing Blue on Saturday?”
“Of course,” she said. “Grant will confirm with you. Oh, I wanted to ask you something, too. I have a friend in town—well, friends. One of the guys wants a tour of Savannah from someone who really knows it.”
“Well, that would be you,” Roger said.
She shook her head. “I don’t know it the way you do. Can I book a private tour tomorrow?”
“For you?” he asked, perplexed, curious—and, she thought, a little flattered.
“Yes, for me. And the friend I mentioned. You might’ve met him, since he’s been hanging around here. His name is Malachi Gordon. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. If you can do it.”
“Sure. Anything for you, kid. It’ll be fun.” He smiled and glanced at his date. “Abby and I used to love exploring places—especially places we weren’t really supposed to go. Gus dragged us out of that tunnel time and time again. We liked to play pirate. Except Abby never wanted to play captive—she always had to be a pirate herself. Like Anne Bonney.”
“Wow. That was a lot of years ago!” Abby said. “So tomorrow. Nine. Ten?”
“Ten works better for me.”
“Thanks, Roger.”
“I’ll see you here.”
“Okay.” Abby nodded. “Bianca, it was very nice to meet you. You’re new to the area?”
“I’m here to find an apartment. I work for a delivery company, and I’m being transferred from Chicago.”
“Well, then, welcome to Savannah.” Abby made her way back to the bar. Grant was going over the following day’s reservations at the host stand. Aldous and Dirk were gone. “Aldous left with Dirk, didn’t he?” she asked.
“Yeah, they were kind of cute as they went out, big pirate-kind-of-guy leaning on bald, gold-earringed guy. Don’t worry, Aldous said he’d walk Dirk straight to his house.”
“Thank you, Grant.” Abby went to the bar and took a seat. There were no more customers and Sullivan was sterilizing the bar glasses, then hanging them on the wooden racks.
“You okay?” he asked her.
“Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”
“So, you’ve brought in a bunch of FBI agents?”
Surprised, she frowned at him.