“This is going to be my go-to place for lunch whenever I’m in the area,” Dr. Meyers said. “The sandwiches are unbelievable. I’m having something called the Hamlet.”
“Mmm . . . Black Forest ham on rye with Dijon. One of my favorites,” I told her. We slipped into a long discussion about food before the subject turned to the expo. Two of Franklin’s authors were due to speak that afternoon: the authors of Tie the Knot on a Shoestring Budget and A Handmade Wedding. Afterward, Ms. Lambert had arranged for several local craftspeople to hold a crafting seminar, focusing on hand-crafted centerpieces and homemade wedding favors. I’d hoped to get some ideas for my own ceremony, maybe special placeholders for the reception tables or memorable party favors to say a special thank-you to our wedding guests.
“Oh, don’t look now, but here comes your mother and her beau,” Pam giggled. “They do make a cute couple.” I looked up from my sandwich to see Mama coming our way. Oscar was on her heels, following like a puppy dog.
“Hi, hon. I didn’t even notice y’all were here.”
So much for my mother’s psychic abilities! Apparently her crystal ball was clouded when the aura of romance filled the air around her. “Well, you were busy enjoying your lunch. With your friend,” I added, nodding his way and not bothering to try to sound pleasant. “How are you today, Mr. Belmonte?”
“Oscar, please.” He extended his hand, which I shook quickly, without making eye contact. He shuffled his feet and made another attempt at conversation. “Guess we didn’t get off to such a great start the other day.”
I shrugged, still not looking his way. “Guess not.” Sort of difficult with a dead body in the room. An awkwardness fell over the group. I picked up my sandwich for another bite.
Mama spoke up. “Well, guess we’d best be goin’. Oscar needs to get back to the restaurant. Trey’s been holdin’ down the fort for him while he’s out.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Oscar shift his stance and lean forward. “That boy of yours has the makings of a fine chef, Ms. Wilkins.”
I should have said, “Call me Lila, please.” Or at least maybe a simple thank you. Or anything except nibbling on my sandwich without bothering to respond. It was rude and I knew it. I felt it in the crawling warmth up my neck, the cold stares of the others at the table. But I simply couldn’t help myself.
Casting a sideways glance toward Mama, I could see telltale spots of red breaking across her cheeks. My behavior was embarrassing her. “Well, guess I’ll be seeing y’all later this afternoon at the expo,” she said. A round of good-byes ensued from the table, but I kept my focus on my food.
After they left, Dr. Meyers tentatively said, “Your mother’s friend seemed nice. Don’t you think?” She dipped her chin and tried to engage my eyes, using a tone of voice I imagined she used to coax secrets and innermost thoughts from her clients.
I shrugged and pretended to be enjoying my sandwich. But the truth was, the hurt look on Mama’s face had ruined my appetite. I’d behaved horribly toward Oscar. Not without good reason, I reminded myself. Look at all the havoc the man had created in my life! First, he hired Trey away from a good college education; now he was . . . what? Trying to take Mama from me, too? And for all anyone knew he could be a crazed killer.
Pam thumped the table, bringing me out of my reverie. “Now I know where I’ve heard that man’s voice before. At the Magnolia Bed and Breakfast.”
“Oscar?” I asked. “When?”
Pam rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “It must have been the first day I arrived. Before you and Jodi got there,” she said to Lynn.
“We came in Sunday morning,” Lynn supplied.
“That’s right. It was Saturday afternoon. I remember now because Flora picked me up at the airport that morning and dropped me at the inn. She was coming back to pick me up for an early dinner, so I was hanging around the front room waiting for her. I remember a huge argument breaking out in the kitchen between Chuck and someone else. Someone who sounded just like Oscar.”
“Did you happen to hear what they were arguing about?”
“Oh sure. I couldn’t help but hear. It was over some work Chuck had done. I didn’t quite get the gist of what type of work, but Oscar was really mad. He said something like, “You’ll regret this, Richards. When I’m done with you, you’ll never work in this town again.” She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if those were his exact words, but something like that.”
“You’re sure it was Oscar.”
“Pretty sure. It was a raspy voice like his and with that slight Jersey accent.”