Mint Juleps and Justice Read online

  When she and Keith had split, she had been hurt, but at least things were polite; when he’d decided that he wanted to be back together, it had gotten creepy and uncomfortable. His infidelity and lies were unforgivable in her book, and the way he continued to insert himself into her business was unsettling. More than once she was pretty sure he’d caused the trouble that he’d tried to rescue her from. Then there was the whole thing with him telling his lawyer that she was the one who had abandoned the marriage, and fighting for possessions she’d brought into it. Proving all of that was becoming a real pain.

  Moving had been the best choice, and being careful was a promise she didn’t plan to break.

  She locked the door behind her, got in her car, and sped off to Main Street. Parallel parking had never been her thing, but she was getting better at it since on-street parking was about the only parking in this town. She’d finally gotten comfortable enough to try to park between two cars rather than circling the block until two spots opened so she could ease forward from one to the other. She maneuvered into the tight spot right in front of Jenny’s new place of business.

  With a jovial feeling from the parking win, she got out of the car.

  The bright-orange building looked so much better now that Jenny had added her own special touches. A sandblasted sign in bright turquoise and a shade of melon that actually somehow softened the bright color of the building hung out front with the words HAPPY BALANCE in big white letters. Twinkle lights brightened the windows.

  When Brooke walked inside, Jenny waved from behind the smoothie bar. Brooke came to a dead-stop at the sight of over a half-dozen rainbow-colored drinks lined across the bar like a giant xylophone. “Hope you’ve invited some friends. I can’t drink all of those.”

  Jenny spread her arms like a model above the glasses lined up in front of her. “We’re just going to taste them.”

  “They sure are pretty. Hope they taste as good as they look.”

  “And they’re good for you too.”

  Brooke laughed. “Which is why I said I hope they taste good.”

  “You’ve got to get over that. Healthy can taste good.”

  “Whatever.” Brooke had succumbed to that line of bull before. Veggie burgers were the most recent catastrophe. Her stomach hadn’t been right for three days after that meal. Dinner nights with Jenny had always been an adventure, but now they were becoming downright dangerous with the health kick she was on now that she had her own yoga studio.

  “Come. Taste. My smoothie barista will be here shortly for a little practice. I wanted her to see what they all looked like.”

  “You hired someone?”

  “In exchange for free yoga. I couldn’t pass up her offer.” She shoved a tangerine-colored drink into Brooke’s hand. “Taste.”

  Brooke took a sip. “Fun. Very tropical. You might have to get an ABC license so we can liquor these smoothies up after hours.”

  “That kind of defeats the purpose.” Jenny handed Brooke a glass full of bright purple liquid. “Try this one.”

  Brooke curved the bendable orange straw and took a sip. “Ooh, that’s good.” She tapped the glass and set it down. “This one is a definite yes.”

  “Good.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not telling you.”

  “That means you’re feeding me weird stuff again. Why do you always sneak healthy in on me? You know I’m not into that new age lifestyle.”

  “It’s good for you.” Jenny handed her another glass. “Besides, if I tell you what’s in it you won’t give it a fair taste.”

  “You think that’s going to make me feel any better about it?” Brooke took the glass full of a thick yellow concoction. She took a sip, thinking it was banana, only to get a tart lemon taste instead. Her face puckered up like a kissing gourami.

  “Not good?”

  “No. It’s good. I was just expecting banana and got sour.” Her lashes fluttered, but she took another sip. “Wow. But good. Yes, it’s good.”

  A skinny, dark-haired man walked through the front door.

  Jenny smiled and waved, but the guy, carrying a small satchel, barely broke stride as he headed toward the back of the space.

  Brooke leaned forward and whispered. “Who’s that?”

  “He’s painting the murals in the locker rooms.”

  Brooke glanced over her shoulder. “Good, because he doesn’t look like your type or the social, smoothie-makin’ type.”

  “No, he’s not, but he’s one hell of an artist.” Jenny came from around the bar. “Come follow me. He’s done with the guys’ locker room already. You’ve got to see this.”

  She pushed the door labeled WARRIORS open and motioned Brooke inside.

  “My goodness! This guy is talented.” A serene countryside mural spread from one end of the room to the other. Deer drank from a small pond, and the flowers in the meadow looked so real Brooke thought she could smell them, and the sky…the sky extended to the tall ceiling and was so clear she half-expected to see a bird fly by. It was like The Venetian in Vegas, where you really had to keep reminding yourself that you were not outside. “How long did it take him to do this? And how did you keep it a secret for so long?”

  “He’s been working on it for about two weeks. He gave me a deal on it if I let him stay in the space while he worked.”

  “You’re becoming the bartering queen.”

  Jenny nodded. “I know. Wish I’d been this good of a negotiator during my divorce. Maybe I would have come out a little better in that deal. I still can’t believe I just let him have the beach house.”

  “True, but he’d been sleeping with his little mistress in that beach house at the time and I’m still glad you didn’t do something crazy like burn the place down.”

  Jenny smirked. “Don’t think I didn’t think about it. Thank goodness for the don’t-do-anything-you-can’t-undo rule. Keeps us out of trouble every time.”

  “Probably the best gift my dad ever gave us. He was good for something after all.” Brooke walked closer to the painting. “The only problem I see with this artwork is that the guys that live around here might try to shoot those deer out of season, they look so real,” Brooke teased.

  The sound of someone clearing their throat made both women spin around.

  “You scared me to death.” Jenny lowered the hand she held to her chest and let out a breath. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was just showing my best friend your work. This is Brooke. Meet Dan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dan.” Brooke stepped forward to shake his hand. “Your work is amazing.”

  “Thanks.” He shook her hand, holding it a little too long. A slow smile softened the hard lines of his face.

  Brooke felt an uneasy pull as the man just stared at them. “Are you from around here?”

  “For now.”

  Brooke waited for more, but he didn’t continue. “Have you checked in with Jill Malloy down at the artisan center? I bet she’d love to showcase your work.”

  “No. Haven’t. One thing at a time,” he said.

  Alrighty then.

  He turned to Jenny. “I just wanted to pick up a couple things and I’ll be out of your way.”

  “No worries.” Jenny turned and started heading to the door. “We were just leaving.”

  He turned sideways as they passed.

  “He’s a little odd,” Brooke whispered as they walked back out front. “And quiet. I never heard him come up.”

  “Yeah, quirky, but I can’t believe I got an artist like that for just the cost of crashing in an old building and a few hundred bucks. So what were you going to tell me?”

  Brooke ran down the details of her visit over at Kasey Phillips’s farm.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going over there. What if Cody Tuggle had been there?”

>   “Then I’d have probably fainted, and you’d have found out when they took me to the hospital because you’re my emergency contact!” Brooke laughed. “No, I’d probably have just stood there mumbling and drooling.”

  “That’s attractive.”

  “No, it wouldn’t be, but that’s okay. The guy that I’ll be working with isn’t a troll either.”

  Jenny gave Dan a quick wave as he walked past them and left the building. “So what’s this about the guy at the farm? Is he single?”

  “His name is Mike. He’s tall, probably like six-three, dark hair, muscles to die for, ex-Marine, polite—”

  “Sounds like someone’s interested.”

  “Me?” Brooke shook her head. “Oh, heck, no. If I ever get out of this marriage, I’ll never date again.” She crossed her heart. “He is hot, though.”

  The bells on the door tinkled and a young woman in black yoga pants and a pink tank top came in.

  “There’s my girl. Hi, Ashleigh.” Jenny called out to the girl. “Come meet my best friend in the whole world, Brooke Justice.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ashleigh.” Brooke gathered her things. “I’m going to let y’all get down to the yogurt, grass, and fruit-shake making.”

  Jenny turned to Ashleigh. “First order of business. Never ever, under any circumstances, tell Brooke what is in our smoothies.”

  “Secret ingredients?”

  Jenny shook her head. “Nothing that savvy. My best friend here has a serious aversion to healthy food…and men.”

  Brooke picked up her purse and turned to leave. “On that note, I’m outta here, but for the record I don’t think avoiding health food or men has ever killed anyone.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mike Hartman knew his dad had ulterior motives for inviting him over for dinner. He always did. Ever since Mike had gotten back from Iraq, his dad kept in constant contact. There was something unsettling about someone, especially your dad, thinking you might snap at any minute.

  He wasn’t fragile, but war changes a person. Mike knew that, and he was sure that’s what his dad was worried about. Suddenly the clear rules and strong camaraderie of being abroad in uniform were gone and civilian life seemed like one big free-for-all. It had been a little overwhelming at first, but he was making his peace with it. Translating military skills into civilian experience was a stretch for some, but Mike had gone to college before he decided to join the Marines, and he’d been able to land a civilian job with ease. Problem was, he just wasn’t fit for a desk job. Sitting on his ass for eight hours a day was pure torture.

  Of course, Dad didn’t understand that. When he heard the salary that government contractor was willing to pay for sitting behind a desk answering questions and advising servicemen on the software package they’d just installed, Dad couldn’t understand why in the world he’d chuck all that to work for himself. Especially in this economy.

  After his time in the Marines, Mike had considered training service dogs as a career alternative, as kind of a way to give back to the program, but his experience working for four years side-by-side with First Sgt. Gunner, a highly skilled and decorated German shepherd, hadn’t prepared him for all that was involved. So he took a small step and signed on to foster a German shepherd pup through its first year in preparation for service work. It wouldn’t be easy to give him up at the end of the twelve-month period, but knowing that he’d helped prepare a pup for a lifetime of service felt like a good step in the right direction. Of course, that didn’t solve his desire for satisfying work.

  That desk job was driving Mike about half-batty when he reconnected with Perry Von, and when Von suggested Mike start his own private-investigation outfit in Holland County…it had felt like the right move. Von said he had more work than he could handle and he’d pass those cases along to Mike until he was up on his feet with his own clientele. Being his own boss had much more appeal, and the work was varied and interesting. He could also work in time for training the service dog, while keeping tabs on Kasey’s place. Being in business for himself was a better fit for sure.

  So he’d quit the desk job and changed course.

  Mike pulled into the driveway of the house he’d grown up in. It looked just like it had for as long as he could remember. Even the flowerbeds looked the same—squared-off hedges and rows of yellow and orange marigolds nestled between wide-leaf hostas. Dad was a creature of habit. One trait he was glad he hadn’t picked up.

  “Hey, Dad,” Mike called when he walked inside. He could only guess what Dad might need fixed this time. His needs were turning into a honey-do list, and he thought he’d avoided that trap by never remarrying.

  He wandered into the kitchen and dropped off a box of pastries from Mac’s Bakery. The aroma of Italian food made his stomach growl. A big tossed salad in a decorative bowl brightened the kitchen table, and a huge pan of the cheesiest lasagna he’d ever seen sat on a cast-iron trivet on the counter. What have you gone and done now, Dad?

  He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. From the looks of the number of settings at the table, four, he was going to need it.

  Mike opened the slider to join his dad and the obvious mother-daughter duo on the deck. He smiled, although he’d rather have turned and left.

  “Son!” Dad popped up from a deck chair and seemed to dance as he jockeyed through the introductions. “Meet Beth and her daughter, Katie.” He leaned in close and whispered into Mike’s ear, “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  Mike smiled and nodded to Katie, who looked as stuck as he felt. That somehow made it less awkward.

  “Beth here goes to my church, and she makes the best lasagna you’ve ever had,” his dad bragged.

  Beth blushed. “Thank you. Your daddy is such a charmer.”

  “He is that,” Mike agreed.

  “Katie lives in Raleigh,” Beth continued. “Not too far. Easy drive. She just got an amazing promotion at her firm. I’m so proud of her. She came up to help me work on the big church bazaar. Now if she could just quit working long enough to find a nice man.”

  Katie looked like she wished she had a bread stick to throw at her mom.

  “You hungry?” Mike’s dad asked.

  “I wasn’t until I walked through your kitchen and smelled that lasagna.”

  “It’s my specialty.” Beth got up from her chair, and motioned to his dad. “Come on. Help me in the kitchen.”

  The two of them scurried away like they were pulling off a big coup.

  Mike and Katie let out a sigh at the same time, causing them both to laugh.

  “You didn’t know I was going to be here, did you?” Katie asked.

  “No. I didn’t know anyone was going to be here. I thought I was coming to fix something for Dad. They think they’re tricky, don’t they?”

  Katie nodded. “Don’t blame your dad. I’m sure it was all Mom. She fancies herself quite the little matchmaker. I’m not sure why. She’s been trying to hook me up for at least the last seven years and I’ve never been attracted to even one of the men she’s picked for me. That woman has a weird definition of handsome.”

  “Well, I do clean up nice,” Mike said.

  She clasped her hand across her mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re very good-looking…oh, gosh…”

  “I’m just kidding.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “The truth is I’m kind of seeing someone, but I just don’t want the hassle of dealing with Mom and the scrutiny of the family on every holiday until it’s a for-sure thing. It’s simpler to pretend I’m alone and have to work.”

  “I see you have a few of your own tricks up your sleeve. Must run in the family.”

  “I guess I do. It’ll work until I’m forced to come back and take care of her. She’ll never leave this town, but she’s getting a little forgetful and I do worry. Maybe I’ll get lucky and your dad will take care of
my mom and vice versa.”

  “Maybe. Never really pictured my dad remarried again, but you never know. He’s a good man.”

  “Have you always lived in a small town?”

  “No, not always. But mostly. It appeals to me.” Technically it was true. Although all his civilian time had really been right here in this small county, he’d been all over the world as a Marine. Longer story than he planned to share with this gal, though.

  “Divorced?”

  Mike took a swig of his beer. “Nope.” It wasn’t a lie, but he knew her real question was had he ever been married, and that was a whole other story. But then again she was already rambling along about herself, so maybe she didn’t really care what his status was.

  “I was married for less than two years right out of high school. Big mistake. I ended up getting a divorce, then I went back to college and started fresh. I’ve had a couple serious relationships, but nothing that felt like forever. I’d like to have a couple kids, but my career does keep me busy.”

  They ate dinner and Beth carried most of the conversation with chitchat about the church and her ladies club. It seemed like the longest dinner on earth to Mike and he was glad when his phone rang and gave him the chance to pretend he had a business call to go on.

  “Sorry, folks. I’m going to have to run.” He tapped his phone. “Duty calls.” He turned toward Beth. She seemed nice enough and Dad seemed to really enjoy her company. “Thanks for the lovely dinner, Beth.”

  The woman blushed and grinned like she’d just won the blue ribbon at the fair. “It was my pleasure.”

  Mike’s dad rose from the table and followed Mike to the door.

  “You’re not mad, are you?” his dad asked.

  “No, Dad. I’m not mad, but I’m okay. I don’t need you setting me up on dates.”

  Dad’s eyebrows pulled together like they did right before he went into speechifying mode. “Son, you’ve been alone too long. You need to move on. You’re missing out on precious time in your life that you don’t get back. Trust me. You’ll wake up one morning and you’re too old to do all the stuff you put on that list for someday. Make today that someday.”