The man’s eyes went wide, and Julia tried to figure out what had attracted her gran to him in the first place. He was pretty, the same way generic catalogue models from the seventies were pretty. Julia wondered—if he had been more charismatic, would it have transformed him from generic into handsome? She wasn’t sure.
“Mummy?” Marcus blustered. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Patricia turned to Joe as she pointed at her ex-lover. “Joe, knock his teeth out.”
Ed covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.
Joe shot the two of them a look of disgust before smiling at Marcus.
“You must be Marcus. I’m Joe Barone. It’s good to meet a fellow American.”
Joe held out a hand to Marcus, who had a distinct rabbit-in-the-headlights look about him. Hesitantly, Marcus shook Joe’s hand. Joe used the opportunity to tug the man off his stool. He patted him on the back and whispered something in Marcus’ ear. Julia couldn’t make out what was being said, but she did notice the effect. All colour drained from Marcus’ face.
Joe stepped back, slapped a hand on Marcus’ shoulder and grinned at him. “How about we take this outside, somewhere a bit more private? Good plan?” He nodded. “Good plan.” He smiled at the rapt audience. “Sorry to disturb your evening, folks.” He caught the bartender’s eye. “Refills for everyone. On me.”
That turned the worried spectators into friends. They slapped Joe on the back as he held Marcus’ arm and dragged him out of the French doors onto the patio.
“I like him,” Patricia told Julia as they followed. “If I were thirty years younger, I’d steal him from you. If I could.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Seems like he only has eyes for my Julia.”
Julia didn’t even bother dignifying that with a response. Instead she kept close to Joe, who was aiming for a table against a wall at the edge of the patio, far away from curious ears. He thrust Marcus into a seat. The man wobbled before tugging at his tweed suit jacket. Tweed. In the desert.
Patricia sat in a chair beside Marcus, crossing her long legs and glaring at him. Ed leaned against the wall behind Patricia, looking amused but watchful. Julia stood beside Joe. Well, slightly behind him. She wasn’t taking any chances. If Marcus was going to strike out, she knew he’d go for the weakest link. And as the weakest link, she would rather Joe was between her and the idiot her grandmother had slept with.
“Where the mummy?” Patricia demanded.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t the one who was jailed for stealing it.” The smug sneer gave him away.
Patricia pointed a finger into his face. “You were the one who filmed us while we were in that house. You sent that video to the cops. You were there.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Marcus held his hands out, palms up. Offering them nothing.
“Rubbish.” Patricia leaned forward and smacked him across the face again.
Marcus’ hand flew to the reddening skin. “Will you please stop doing that?”
Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing, Patricia?”
She gave Joe a look that suggested his IQ should be tested. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m interrogating him.”
Joe stared up at the dark night sky for a second before turning his equally dark look on Julia’s grandmother. “Stop it. I’ll ask the questions. No more hitting.”
“He deserves it.” She glared at Marcus, and the fool actually leered back. “He stole the mummy and framed us. He’s the reason I’ve been in a cell all week. He’s the reason Alice is in danger. Him! And for what? To appease his fragile ego.” She snorted her disgust.
“Ed,” Joe said, “hold her down if you have to.”
“My pleasure.” Ed stepped forward to put his hands on Patricia’s shoulders. She glared up at him, but only got a grin for her efforts.
“I really want to hit him,” she told Ed.
“I understand,” he said. “I’ve only just met him and I feel the same.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marcus blustered with what was clearly a lie. “Why are you here and why are you behaving like a bitch?” He leered at Patricia. “Oh, I get it. You’re put out because you didn’t get a repeat visit from little Marky.”
Joe groaned and shook his head. “I take it back. Feel free to hit the asshole.”
Julia tugged Joe’s t-shirt to get his attention. “Little Marky?” she whispered.
“His penis,” her grandmother practically shouted. “And it’s well named, little is exactly how I would describe it.” She pointed in Marcus’ face again. “For your information, I don’t want a repeat. I’m still trying to get over the nightmares I have from the first time.”