when they entered. “If you’ll wait right here, our hostess will be with you in a minute.”
At the other side of the room a woman, who Brad suspected was the hostess, stood with her back to them as she waited for a man and woman to take their seats at a table with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth. When they were seated, she handed them both menus and turned. Laura gasped when she caught a glimpse of the woman’s face. She might be nearly twenty years older than in the photograph, but there was no mistaking this was Sylvia Warner.
She walked up to them, smiled and picked up two menus from the hostess stand. “Two for lunch?”
“Yes,” Brad said.
Her gaze darted from Brad to Laura before she turned. “This way, please.”
Brad put his hand in the small of Laura’s back and guided her forward as they walked to their table, then suddenly jerked his hand away. His skin warmed at the memory of how he had done that when they were engaged. Did she recognize that he had used the familiar gesture? He hoped not. It had been a force of habit. He needed to be more careful when he was around her. He wouldn’t want her getting any wrong ideas.
Sylvia stopped in front of a booth, and Laura slipped into one side without saying anything. He exhaled as he sat down and took the menu from the hostess. Afraid of what he might see in Laura’s eyes, he stared down and didn’t look at her.
“Your waitress will be with you in a minute.” Sylvia turned, and her heels tapped on the floor as she headed back to her station.
Brad opened the menu and began to scan the items. “What are you having?”
Laura glanced up then. Her attention seemed focused on what she was going to order. A wave of relief rippled through him. He saw nothing that suggested she thought his touch had meant anything. She probably remembered what he’d told her when she broke their engagement—that he would never forgive her for how she’d hurt him. He remembered because he’d told himself the same thing every day for the past six years.
Some things in life she might be able to make amends for, but breaking his heart wasn’t one of them. That deed was one that could never be undone.
* * *
Laura watched as Brad washed down the last bite of his sandwich with a swig of iced tea and wiped his mouth on his napkin. Laura picked up a French fry, nibbled on it and stared at the uneaten half of her sandwich.
He pointed at her plate. “Aren’t you going to finish that?”
She leaned against the back of the booth and rubbed her stomach. “I’m miserable. I can’t eat another bite.”
He glanced around the almost deserted dining room now and leaned across the table. “It looks like most of the customers have left. This should be a good time to talk to Sylvia. Are you ready?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He motioned to their waitress who hurried across the room to their table. She smiled down at Brad and swished her ponytail back and forth. Laura smothered the smile that pulled at her mouth. The young woman had flirted with Brad ever since the meal began, and she wasn’t giving up now. She batted her eyelashes at him. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Yes. I’d appreciate it if you’d ask the hostess to come over here.”
Her shoulders sagged, and she frowned as she turned to look at Sylvia who was talking with the cashier. “You want to talk to Anne?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll tell her.” The girl slapped their check down on the table, whirled and hurried across the room to where Sylvia stood.
Laura chuckled and took a sip of her iced tea. “I think you hurt her feelings, Brad.”
His eyes grew wide. “Why?”
“I think she wanted you to show some interest in her.”
He frowned and shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”
Laura sighed and picked up her glass again. “Well, I know your glass was kept filled all the time we were eating, and I had to practically beg for a refill.”
“Cut it out, Laura,” he growled. “We’re here on business.”
Laura glanced over her shoulder at the young woman huffing toward the hostess stand. She said something to Sylvia who turned and stared at them. A perplexed look covered her face. Frowning, she walked slowly across the dining room until she stopped at their table.
“Carlene said you wanted to talk to me. Was there something wrong with your food or your service?”
Brad shook his head. “No, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute if you have time.”
Sylvia glanced from Brad to Laura before she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m very busy. If you have a complaint to make, perhaps you need to talk to the owner.”
Brad reached in his pocket and pulled out his detective’s shield. “I want to talk to you, Sylvia. Or is it Anne? Which name are you going by now?”
Her eyes widened as she stared at the badge. She swallowed and glanced down at him with fear in her eyes. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Brad shrugged. “I never said you did. I just want to talk to you. Please have a seat next to my friend.”
Laura scooted over, and after hesitating, Sylvia dropped down in the booth next to her. “What’s this all about?”
Brad reached back in his pocket and pulled out the picture they’d found earlier in the day. He laid it on the table and pushed it across the surface toward Sylvia. “I’m investigating two murders that occurred about nineteen years ago, about the time this picture was taken I’d say. This is you in the picture, isn’t it?”
Sylvia picked up the photograph and stared at it for a moment. Tears filled her eyes. “I haven’t seen this in years. Where did you get it?”
“It was in the cold case file of the murders of Lawrence and Madeline Webber. Do you remember anything about those murders?”
Sylvia’s face paled, and she gasped. “I had nothing to do with those murders and neither did Johnny. He just had the misfortune of hanging out with the wrong people. That’s what got him killed.”
Brad pushed his plate out of the way and crossed his arms on the table. “I believe you hung out with the same crowd. In fact I think you worked as a singer at the club Tony Lynch owned down on Beale Street.” He glanced around the barbecue restaurant. “This is kind of a long way from the gig you used to have down there. What happened?”
Laura could feel the anger radiating from Sylvia’s body. She leaned across the table and hissed at Brad. “My boyfriend was killed. Remember? He had nothing to do with those murders. He was with me in New Orleans when they happened. After Vince Stone was railroaded for killing him, I left Memphis. I had no reason to stay.”
Brad’s eyebrows shot up. “Railroaded? What do you mean by that?”
Sylvia rolled her eyes and curled her lips into a frown. “Vince was as innocent as Johnny. They just happened to be the two that got set up. Johnny for the Webbers and Vince for Johnny’s murder. The police were played real good by some dangerous people.”
Laura reached over and grabbed Sylvia’s hand. “Lawrence and Madeline Webber were my parents. I was just a child when they were killed. I need to find the people responsible for their deaths. If you know who these people are, please help us.”
Sylvia turned to her. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I can’t. They’d kill me, too. I’m sorry about what happened to your parents, but please believe me. Johnny had nothing to do with it.”
Brad picked up the picture and slid it back in his pocket. “You and Johnny must have talked about who was involved. Why didn’t he come forward and let the