Tina came back with Nick’s food and the chips and salsa just as Sam and the rest of The Hairy Bananas came from the back and headed for the small stage. We didn’t talk after that, although more than once Nick and I did sing—along with a lot of other people—much to Jess’s amusement. Nick was actually a very talented guitar player and a couple of times had sat in for a few songs with the band. Anyone who could play was welcome to join the guys, although it didn’t happen very often. Sam had asked me to join them, but I hadn’t practiced in a long time and I’d never been as good as Nick anyway. I liked to play mainly because it made me feel closer to my dad. My guitar had been his, lost for years after his car accident.
The band ended their first set with a rocking version of Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “Takin’ Care of Business.” Classic rock songs were the most popular with the pub’s clientele.
Jess got to her feet. “I see someone I need to talk to. Do you want anything?”
I shook my head.
“How about you, Dr. Feelgood?” She nudged Nick with her elbow.
“I’m good, thanks,” he said.
I turned so I was facing him. “When are you going to bring your guitar and sit in with Sam?” I asked.
He swiped a hand over his chin. “When I have some time to practice first.”
“You know every single one of the songs they just played.”
He grinned. “I’ll bring my guitar if you bring yours.”
I shook my head. “No way. I don’t play nearly as well as you do.”
“‘Peaceful Easy Feeling,’” he said. The Eagles song was the first one he’d taught me to play after I’d gotten my dad’s guitar.
When I didn’t say anything he bumped my leg with his knee. “You could play that with your eyes closed.”
“And I’ll sound like I’m playing it with my eyes closed,” I retorted.
“I’ll bring my guitar over and we’ll practice it together.” He leaned closer. “It’ll be fun.” His breath was warm against my cheek and I could smell his aftershave. Catching the scent always seemed to take me back in time.
It would be fun, I knew, playing with him again. Nick had finally agreed to come running with me, and the times we’d been out I’d laughed myself silly, mostly because he ran like a black bear chasing a picnic basket. “I’ll think about it,” I said.
He straightened up and gave me a triumphant look.
I waggled a finger in his face. “No, no, no! Don’t think you’ve won any kind of victory. I said I’d think about it. Think. That’s all.”
He just kept grinning at me.
“I’m changing the subject,” I said. “Any idea when you might get the results of Rose’s blood tests?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” he said. “More likely it will be Monday.” He shrugged. “Once we get those results we’ll have a better idea of what happened to Rose.”
“What would make someone set up another person for murder?” I asked, reaching for my mug.
“Anger and revenge are the top two reasons.”
“As far as I know there was no reason for Jeff Cameron to feel that way about his wife,” I said. Jess was making her way back to the table.
Nick nodded. “Yeah, that theory does have more holes than a colander, but like I said, once we get Rose’s blood work maybe we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.”
For a moment I couldn’t move. Then I carefully set my mug back on the table. It was that or break it over Nick’s head, and I knew Sam wouldn’t be happy about the latter. “What did you say?” I asked. To my surprise my voice sounded perfectly normal.
“I said there are a lot of holes in the Angels’ theory,” he said.
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You said their theory had more holes than a colander.”
Nick looked at me blankly. “Uh-huh. It’s the thing you drain spaghetti in. It has holes in the bottom.”
“I know what a colander is,” I said.
“So what’s wrong?” he asked. “Because I can see that something is.”
What had Michelle said to me on the phone about that blood work? “Maybe that will clear things up.” Now I understood exactly what Nick’s agenda had been.
Jess had reached the table, but instead of sitting down she stood by my chair. She was five-nine in her sock-covered feet, at least two inches taller in the heels she was wearing, and I felt as though I had a Valkyrie beside me.
“At lunch today your mother said the same thing; their theory had more holes than a colander.”
Nick flushed and his mouth twisted to one side.
“She told you what to say to me.”
He shook his head. “No.”
I raised my eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
“Okay, she did suggest I not say that I think Michelle is probably right about Rose.”
Jess groaned. “I swear, Nick, sometimes you’re about as smart as a bag of hammers.” She sat down, gave me a look of sympathy and rolled her eyes.
Nick shook his head and gestured with one hand. “Both of you seem to be ignoring the fact that Rose could have had a stroke. A stroke. If she did, she needs to be under a doctor’s care.” He made a motion in the air between Jess and me. “You think you’re the only ones who care about her? Yes, when you called I’d already talked to Michelle. I saw a chance to have a couple of blood tests run to make sure Rose is all right. And yes, the toxicology tests are being done as well.”
“Rose was examined by a doctor at the hospital. And they ran some tests. She didn’t have a stroke, Nick.” I struggled to keep my voice down.
“Oh, c’mon,” he said. “Do you really think Rose saw Leesa Cameron dragging her husband’s body across their kitchen floor? Or are you going with Cameron and some mysterious girlfriend staging some kind of elaborate setup?”
I swallowed down the sour taste at the back of my throat. “I’m going with taking Rose at her word until I see some real evidence that tells me something else happened.”
“Well, I’m not willing to let something bad happen that I could have prevented.”
Jess touched my arm. “Please let me take this one,” she said. She didn’t wait for my answer. She fixed Nick with her blue eyes. “First of all, you’ve taken one too many hockey pucks to the head if you think misleading or pretending or whatever you want to call it with Sarah is a good idea. And second, who exactly appointed you the guardian of all the rest of us, the all-knowing, all-seeing oracle who knows what’s best?”
Nick kept his eyes on me. “Stay out of this, Jess,” he said. “This has nothing to do with you.”
She gave a snort of laughter and moved her chair back a couple of inches. “I’m moving out of the way because I figure there’s a good chance you’re going to get hit with lightning for being such a hypocrite.” She glanced at me. “You should move out of the way, too, Sarah.”
Anger flashed across Nick’s face. Jess didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You’re right about one thing. This”—she made a motion in the air with one hand—“doesn’t really have anything to do with me. Just the way Rose’s health has nothing to do with you. She’s a grown adult perfectly capable of making her own decisions, even if no one else likes them.”
Nick opened his mouth and closed it again. Jess was on a roll and wasn’t about to stop until she was done.
“You keep doing this,” she said. She made a fist with her left hand and moved it up and down in a chopping motion. “Beating your head against the wall when all you have to do is walk around. You think you know better, better than Rose, better than your own mother, because they’re old. And maybe you do. I don’t know. The thing is, even if you do, you don’t get to choose because it’s not your life. We don’t want to hear it. We want to screw up our own lives our own way.” She took a breath and let it out; then she looked at me. “Can I get a ride home?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said.
She smiled. “Thanks.” Then she scouted the room, found Tina and pointed at the empty beer bottle on the table, holding up a finger.