Under Cold Stone A Constable Molly Smith Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

before—the ones who’d tried to push their way ahead of her into the coffee shop. She’d told Paul about the incident as they dressed for dinner last night and he muttered something about jerks everywhere. She hadn’t thought about it since.
She certainly was thinking about it now. The men loomed over her table, smirking. “Surprised to see you slumming in a joint like this,” the taller one said.
“Looking for some rough fun?” The second one touched her green scarf, hand woven, pure wool, which she’d hung on the back of her chair.
“Don’t know about fun,” the tall one said. “Not for you anyway, lady.” His hand shot out, and he snatched up her tea cup.
She leapt to her feet, as hot liquid splashed against her sweater. Paul was nowhere to be seen. The patrons at the other table had stopped eating and were watching. The waitress stood frozen at the door to the kitchen, her eyes wide and her hands to her mouth.
“Call the police,” Lucky ordered in a good loud voice.
The shorter man laughed, a laugh without humor. “We don’t need any cops, Tracey. Chill, we’re just being friendly-like to a visitor to our nice town.” There was something familiar about him, Lucky thought. Something about the shape and color of his brown eyes and he way he held his head and shoulders.
The waitress plucked at the man’s sleeve. “Matt, please, I don’t want any trouble. Barry, get out of here.”
Barry, the taller one, took a step back. “No trouble. We came in for breakfast but don’t much like the company. Let’s go, man.”
Matt didn’t move. Lucky reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “If you won’t call the police,” she said to the waitress, “I will.” The man’s eyes narrowed. His hand shot out and he grabbed Lucky’s arm. He gave it a twist. “We don’t need any goddamn interfering cops. Say you’re sorry for disrespecting Barry here, lady, and then we’ll let you go.” With his other hand he plucked the phone out of her hand. Lucky yelled.
The waitress screamed. Matt released Lucky’s arm and then he was out of her space and spinning around. Paul Keller, eyes narrowed, face red with anger, had him by the collar of his jacket. Spittle flying, Paul bellowed, “You filthy little punk.” He grabbed the man’s other shoulder and shook. “How dare you put your hands on her?”
Lucky’s phone had flown across the room. She scrambled after it. Paul might be a police officer and he had once been used to subduing drunks, but these days he was an out-of-shape, overweight man with a desk job who smoked too much and exercised too little. No match for a man young enough to be his son. She grabbed the phone, flipped it open, punched in 9-1…But before she could finish the sequence, she glanced back at the men. To her surprise the younger fellow’s shoulders were slumped and his hands lifted in surrender.
The man at the other table tossed bills down and, almost pushing his wife, slipped away. The waitress’ eyes were wide and frightened. The cook, dressed in a stained white jacket and striped gray pants, had come out of the back, alerted by the raised voices. He gripped a phone, Lucky was pleased to see. Barry, the taller one, had disappeared.
Paul released his grip and took a step back. He was breathing heavily and his red face dripped sweat. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Harassing women in a public place. Apologize, right now.”
“Or what? You gonna arrest me?”
“I have grounds to. Uttering threats, attempted theft, drunk and disorderly.”
“Chill, man. I’m not drunk and I didn’t steal anything. I wasn’t threatening, just having fun.”
“Some fun.”
Lucky’s head spun. This conversation was almost surreal. She looked, really looked, at the young man. Noticed his beefy frame, the way the ridge of his eyebrows hooded his brown eyes, his full lips. She looked at Paul Keller.
Oh, dear God, no.
“Nice to see you too, Dad,” Matt Keller said with a sneer