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“Hey,” she said. “I wondered where you’d gone.”
“Hiding in the john,” he said. “Didn’t want anyone seeing me hanging around instead of leaving.”
“Smart,” she said. She was standing in front of her computer. “How many meals did you log tonight?”
He pulled out his counter and gave her the number. Her mouth thinned. “That’s eight more than the system recorded.”
Anger burned in his gut, and Nico wanted to hunt down Carole, Ruth and Andra. Shake Julia’s money out of them. “No wonder our three thieves looked so happy tonight instead of wrung out like everyone else. I hope to God your friend Zoe comes through for you tomorrow.”
“She will,” Julia said, but she sounded sick. Eight meals, plus whatever those customers had spent on drinks, was a lot of money.
Furious on Julia’s behalf, Nico watched her shove her left hand through her hair, pulling springy strands out of her pony tail. Losing money every night was a crushing blow to Madeline’s. And until they had proof, it would continue. “Do you have any bussers who are ready to move up to serving?” he asked. “And anyone who’d make a good hostess?”
She glanced at him. Nodded. Clearly, she knew why he was asking. “There are a couple of bussers who’ve been here a while,” she said. “I think they’d do a good job as servers. Ever since we started talking about this, I’ve been watching them. They’re smart, competent and get along with the customers. But all the servers are going to have to work more hours until the new ones are acclimated. And I’ll act as the hostess until we figure out who to promote.”
“That’s tough,” Nico said.
Julia shrugged. “That’s the restaurant business. Delia will have to handle the kitchen alone for several days until we get everything ironed out. But she can do that.”
Nico clenched his teeth. “Unlike everyone else, Carole, Andra and Ruth looked very happy after we closed. The servers and bussers worked their butts off tonight. They were all drooping at the bar, and no one wanted a second drink. But those three…” He took a deep breath. Let it out. “They looked as if they’d hit the winning lottery numbers.”
“They did,” Julia said. “Eight meals and drinks could be nine hundred dollars or more. An extra, tax-free three hundred bucks apiece.”
He set his hand on her clenched fist. “It won’t be long,” he said, squeezing her fingers gently. “Maybe you’ll have the proof tomorrow night. Then you can fire their asses.”
Her fingers relaxed beneath his. “A pleasure I’m really looking forward to.” She took a deep breath and extracted her hand from beneath his. “Ready to leave?”
“Not yet,” he said. “As I said earlier, Spencer Flynn is supposed to show up tonight. The guy who’s going to stay here at night and stay at your house during the day. We need to wait here until he arrives.”
Julia stared at him for a long moment, then huffed out a breath as she dropped into her desk chair. “Oh, God, I’d forgotten all about that.”
“Why wouldn’t you? You had a lot on your mind.” He took a chance and brushed his hand over her hair, the silky strands winding around his fingers. “You look as exhausted at your servers looked,” he said.
“Yeah. Tough night in the kitchen, as well.” She leaned closer, as if enjoying his hand on her hair. “One of the cooks had to leave early on -- he had a stomach bug. Which meant everyone had to work more quickly.”
Nico narrowed his eyes. “A server and a cook both out sick. That doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”
Julia stilled. Then turned to look at him. “You think someone made them sick? Or bribed them not to show up?”
“You’d be a fool not to consider it, with all the other odd things going on here. And you’re nobody’s fool.”
She closed her eyes. Gripped the edge of her desk. “Is someone trying to ruin Madeline’s?” she whispered.
“Who knows what the motive is?” Nico said. “But stealing money every night would get the job done quickly,” Nico said grimly. “And breaking into your house and installing spyware on your computer must be part of it. Pushing you in front of a bus. Whoever is behind this is diabolical. And I wish I knew what his endgame was.”
Before Julia could answer, Nico heard a soft knock at the back door. Three soft, two loud. “Flynn’s here,” he said, hurrying toward the back door.
* * *
Angry and shaken, Julia rose from her desk and followed Nico toward the back door. She got there in time to see him do the guy back-thump version of a hug. The newcomer had the same military bearing as Nico, but Spencer Flynn was shorter than Nico and had dark blond hair. Light eyes -- she couldn’t tell the color from this distance. He was more muscular than Nico, but still trim and fit.
The two men were talking as they walked, their heads close together. But Nico must have sensed her presence as she stepped into the kitchen. His head jerked up, and his gaze locked with hers. “Julia.” He stepped toward her and put his hand on her arm to steer her toward the other man, who’d stopped. As soon as they were close, Nico’s hand fell away.
She wished he’d left it there. The grip of his fingers, the warmth from his hand, was reassuring. Comforting. Solid ground in the shifting sands of Madeline’s. But she forced her focus onto the new guy. Reached to shake his hand.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Julia Stewart, the owner of Madeline’s.”
He shook her hand, his grip not too hard or too limp. “Spence Flynn. Nico’s colleague. Taught him everything he knows.” Flynn smiled, a dimple flashing in his right cheek. “Glad to be working with both of you.”
