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alarm in his voice when he said, “Vesta? What are you doing here?”

“I think the more important question is: what are you doing here?”

“I, um… well, I was hungry and I decided to try this new restaurant.”

“Bullshit,” said Vesta, and Scarlett credited her friend for staying so calm and collected under the circumstances.

Tex laughed uncertainly. “A man is allowed to eat, isn’t he?”

“Are you seriously telling me that if I go over to the guy at the reservation desk and ask him who your date is that he won’t give me her name?”

Tex twisted a little in his chair, and made a motion to move it back. Scarlett had placed her foot against the legs of the chair, though, so the good doctor was effectively trapped. “Look, I don’t understand what’s going on here,” said Tex. “I just wanted to have lunch, and you’re barging in here and accusing me of—of what, exactly?”

“I’m accusing you of cheating on your wife, Tex—my daughter.”

“Cheating on my wife! Are you nuts?”

“No, but you must be—to think that you can sneak around behind Marge’s back and start dating other women.”

“I’m not dating other women!”

“So when we sit here and wait, no woman will come walking in through that door over there, expecting to have lunch with you?”

“I don’t believe this!” Tex spat. “You’re really suggesting… you’re really thinking… you really expect me to…”

“I expect you to stop lying and tell me what the hell you think you’re doing, Tex Poole!” said Vesta, raising her voice for the first time.

“But I… I don’t… I don’t think…” the doctor stammered.

“Look, I know you have a date with Evelina Pytel, and I want to know why. Though scratch that. I know why. Because you’re a guy. Well, let me tell you why this is a very bad idea, Tex,” said Vesta, now wagging a menacing finger in her son-in-law’s face. “Because if you pull a stunt like this one more time I’m not just going to tell Marge, I’m also going to skin you alive, and I’ll start by boiling your stupid head!”

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t tell Marge, would you?”

“Not unless you keep lying to me.”

Tex finally relented, as Scarlett knew he would. “It’s Emma Bezel. She asked me to take her sister Evelina out on a date. Not a real date, mind you. Just a friendly lunch type of thing.”

“And you really expect me to believe you?”

“It’s the God’s honest truth! I didn’t want to go through with it at first, but she convinced me. She said Evelina is suicidal, and she respects me. She said that if a man showed her a kindness like this, it would mean the world to her. And it might help her get out of her funk.”

“Tex Poole,” said Vesta in measured tones, “you are either the dumbest man I’ve ever met, or the absolute worst. But looking at you now I’m going with the first option. You really thought this was a good idea?”

“Well…” said Tex, wavering a little. “Emma pointed out that as a doctor I have a duty of care toward my patients, and so… well, I figured she was probably right.”

“Oh, God,” said Vesta, and closed her eyes then pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. She then picked up the napkin that was lying on the table and proceeded to hit Tex over the head with it.

The waiter, who stood watching the scene from behind the safety of his station near the entrance, grinned at the sight of the altercation and gave Scarlett two thumbs up, clearly relieved he’d done the right thing by calling Vesta and spoiling Tex’s hot date.

Chapter 19

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” asked Brutus as he and Harriet sat watching the entrance to Town Hall from a safe distance.

“I’m not sure,” Harriet had to admit. She intensely disliked being trampled by a lot of humans, with their big feet and careless attitude. It was one of the reasons she’d planned to skip Odelia’s wedding, and now to put herself willingly in a similar position? “We could go in through the back,” she suggested. “And if it’s too crowded we immediately get out again.”

“Odelia won’t even be aware that we’re there,” said Brutus. “She’ll probably be too busy interviewing people and taking pictures. You know what she’s like when she’s on the job.”

“I know,” Harriet said, nodding. When Odelia was working she got into this ultra-focused mindset and seemed to forget that her cats were around—unless she needed them on that particular assignment, of course.

“Can you remind me why you wanted to come to this thing again?” asked Brutus, who clearly needed the extra motivation to go through with this.

“Because by mingling with the crowd we might get some of that extra information that Odelia might miss and then by relaying it to her we’ll get into her good graces.”

“Right,” said Brutus dubiously.

“Okay, if we’re going to do this, we better get going,” said Harriet reluctantly. “Oh, Brutus, if only we hadn’t eaten all of that food, then we wouldn’t have to conciliate Odelia, and we wouldn’t have to put ourselves in harm’s way like this.”

“I know,” said Brutus. “I know.”

And then they were on the move, rounding Town Hall and moving purposefully along the back in the direction of the service entrance where kitchen supplies were usually delivered when important get-togethers were organized, like today.

A waiter was smoking outside, and people were moving to and from parked vans, carrying what looked like large trays of finger food inside, and crates filled with bottles of wine and carton boxes of orange juice for the reception. Brutus and Harriet quickly snuck in and then they were in the kitchen, which was a regular beehive of activity.

“I don’t like this,” said Brutus as he sidestepped a waiter who seemed to want to step on his tail, and another who almost knocked him sideways.

“Let’s just keep going. We just need to find a safe place along the

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