Page 12 of Caught
“That’s a good idea,” Jake responded. “You two have some time to kill. You should retrieve Leilah’s Porsche so she and Chelsea can head back home after their shopping spree.”
5
Charlie’s Seafood Tavern was a slightly outdated, rundown bar on the edge of town. It was a far cry from the upscale bistros in the heart of Annapolis so popular with politicians and power brokers, day-tripping DC society scions, and parents visiting their offspring at the Naval Academy. Ryan assumed Jake had chosen it because it was off the beaten path, and that suited Ryan fine.
He parked the gray sedan next to Leilah’s cherry red Porsche, and she slipped out from behind the wheel.
“Did you take the scenic route?” she teased.
“Only one of us is a professional race car driver,” he reminded her. “Not to mention, I’m driving without a license because someone ran from the police while they still had my license and Chelsea’s registration. And I’m not driving a Porsche.”
She patted his arm. “Excuses, excuses. Meredith has a top speed of one hundred and thirty miles an hour.”
Of course, it did. Leave it to Leilah to buy a driving machine disguised as a workhorse sedan.
“Meredith?”
“It’s a good name for a good car. She’s not a glamorous girl like my other cars. I think Meredith fits her.”
They lowered their heads and hurried through the mostly deserted parking lot. He spotted Omar’s hulking Suburban sitting alongside Jake’s Jeep. Presumably, Trent’s temporary ride was one of the anonymous-looking SUVs parked toward the back of the lot.
“Looks like the gang’s all here,” he observed.
“I can’t believe they beat us here,” she responded. Then she reconsidered. “Then again, they didn’t have Mrs. O’Donnell to contend with.”
He chuckled at that. Maggie O’Donnell had waylaid them in the parking lot behind the archive where they’d left the Porsche. The price for parking there was apparently consuming a pot of tea and several of her homemade shortbread biscuits while she told them about her middle grandson’s archery awards. All in all, a more-than-fair trade for DC parking.
Ryan pushed open the door and followed her inside the dimly lit tavern. The hostess station was unattended, but the bartender looked up when they entered. He was in his mid-forties, fit and deeply tanned, as if he spent a lot of his time out on the water. His face was narrow, his salt-and-pepper hair was close-cropped, and his blue eyes were sharp and alert. Ryan pegged him as former military. After working at Potomac for a while, he’d developed the ability to suss out retired military and LEOs.
“You folks with Jake?”
Ryan nodded.
“Back room.” He jerked his head to the left, then resumed polishing the bar with a rag.
They walked past several long wooden tables, most of which were empty. When they reached the door the bartender had indicated, Leilah stopped and stretched up onto her tiptoes in a futile effort to peer through the small window set in the door.
Ryan grinned. “Step aside, Sparky.”
She huffed but moved out of his way. He looked through the window and spotted their friends gathered around a large, scarred table littered with glasses. “This is it.”
“About time,” Trent groused as they entered the room.
Olivia frowned a warning and elbowed him in the ribs. “Ignore him,” she said, rising to hug Leilah. “He’s cranky.”
Ryan fist bumped Omar, then turned to the fuming former SEAL. “I’m sorry you made a wasted trip to Delaware. We had our reasons.”
“I heard. West said you got some good intel out of the dead lawyer’s cousin,” Trent said grudgingly.
Ryan figured that was Trent’s way of accepting his apology, so he slid into an open chair between Trent and Omar. Leilah took the seat next to Marielle and leaned around her to catch Chelsea’s attention.
“While we’re apologizing, I’m sorry we had to leave your Forester and tent unattended,” she said.
Chelsea waved a hand. “No apology needed. I’m not a growly bear like some people. And I guess you’re making it up to me with a shopping trip.”
“It’ll be fun,” Leilah enthused. She batted her eyelashes at Jake. “I don’t suppose you can spare Olivia and Marielle for a few hours so they can join us?”
Jake poured two glasses of lemonade from the pitcher in the middle of the table and slid them along the surface to Ryan and Leilah. “Turns out, I can.”
