Lunch crept up on both of us. We were busy chatting, strategizing, and trying to come up with some answers to the two issues that were before us. Unfortunately, the most that we accomplished that morning was draining our giant cups of coffee and setting up Bluetooth speakers in Imogen's office. Now she could listen to her own music in the privacy of her own room. Further complicating our communication problem. The next thing we needed to sort out was some sort of intercom system.
Imogen and I arrived at Delmar with a few minutes to spare before the allotted time. We valeted the car and strolled into the main clubhouse. I spoke to the host and within minutes we were seated, waiting for Alese to arrive.
"I'd rather be having Italian," I said.
"Order the pasta," she said.
"It's terrible here."
"Max, you're a big boy, pick something and deal. For Christ's sake, it's just lunch."
Easy for her to say. I sipped my water and pretended not to care. But inside I was lamenting my restaurant choice.
Alese walked in shortly thereafter, provided some air kisses around the table, and then joined us. We all ordered. I didn't order any alcohol. I was too hopped up on caffeine at the moment. I did offer Alese a drink, because I normally do, and she looked a bit out of sorts. She declined, and we all stuck to water.
"I'm so sorry that I'm late," Alese said, sipping her water.
"Ten minutes? That's not late," I said.
"The traffic was dreadful getting here," she said.
"No worries," Imogen said.
"Where were you coming from?" I asked.
"Manhattan," she said. "Had a morning meeting."
I wanted to pry. What meeting? What did she do for a living? I was guessing nothing. Independently wealthy. But it seemed inappropriate. So I passed.
"Always a pain in the ass," I said. "I used to commute. What a hassle."
Alese laughed.
"Thank God I only travel there once in a while. I'm quite content to stay out here in Manors. Nice and quiet."
Quiet? If she only knew what was going on. Manors, at the moment, was anything but quiet.
"That's what I love about it," Imogen said.
"It's certainly quieter than Manhattan," I said. "Speaking of which. I've got some news for you."
"Do tell," she said.
Then our lunches arrived. I couldn't help myself and took a bite after we all complimented the dishes and how delicious they all looked. With a mouthful of half-chewed food, I finally spoke.
"Well, we received some information about the voicemail that was left on your phone."
"Fabulous!" she exclaimed.
"It seems like the call was made from Manhattan."
Alese's facial expression had changed from elation to something else. It was like her whole face puckered. But she didn't make a sour face. It was more like something troubled her. I knew I was right to do this in person.
"Really?" she said.
That was it. Then she stared at me some more and took a bite of her food. Possibly some sort of diversion from this conversation.
"That's what they said," I said.
"Who?"
"The phone company," I said.
"Oh," she said.
"You don't seem happy to hear it," I said.
"No, I am happy to hear it. I'm just shocked, I think. Manhattan is close. It scares me," she said.
"Understandable," I said. "It is close. Any thoughts on who might have done it? Someone in Manhattan?"
"I have no idea. That's what frightens me."
"Think, luv," Imogen said.
Alese appeared to be thinking about the question. I was looking at her and trying to get a read on her. Maybe she was scared, but I wasn't getting that vibe. I knew that those were the words coming out of her mouth, but they didn't mesh with her demeanor. She appeared to be more agitated than scared.
"No one?" I asked.
We were pressing her. Trying to make her come out with a name. She knew people in Manhattan. In fact, she had just come from there. What about the person or people she was just with? Were they the culprit? I couldn't ask her. Again, I thought that was crossing the line. I needed her to come up with a name on her own. One that she wanted to say. Without me providing her with an option.
She took another sip of her water. Boy, she must have been parched.
"I really can't think of anyone. Anyone who would do that to me. Anyone who wants me dead."
She wasn't going to budge. In her defense, she might not know. Hell, she hired us to figure out who was threatening her. But something told me that she knew. I had no basis besides my gut to justify that thought, but I believed it.
"Of course," I said. "That's why you hired us."
I joked, trying to diffuse the situation. Back to light and breezy we went. We finished our meal, thanked Alese for coming, and told her to stay, if she wanted to, and enjoy the facilities on us. She thanked me and then declined. She had other plans. Then she left.
"Now what?" Imogen asked.
"You want to stick around here for the rest of the day? Play a little tennis?"
"Not really, Max. I'm full. And tired of this place," she said.
"All right, why don't you have a seat in the lobby, and I'll go fetch the car from valet. I'll come get you when it's here."
"Thanks," she said.
We strolled from the restaurant into the magnificent lobby where Imogen sat on one of the couches. I walked out of the main entrance and headed over to the valet station. Oddly, it's a bit of a walk to the valet station. You have to cross the lane that pulls up directly up to the entrance and walk over to the other lane where the kiosk sits. I was in the process of crossing when Bill appeared, red and sweating, charging at me like an old angry bull.