well as I do that I can make some serious trouble for you and Cricket.”
I heard a scuffle, then the door flew open, and Lex ricocheted into the hall, banging against the wall with a fleshly thud. The door slammed behind him. He winced and rubbed his side, his breath hitching. Suddenly I saw years in his face, hard ones.
“You cracked a rib,” I said. “Maybe two.”
He jerked. Instantly, the pain melted into cool. “No, a cracked rib feels like a broken pool cue in the side. This’ll make a helluva bruise tomorrow, but that’s all.”
“So I guess he wasn’t really trying to hurt you.”
“Jackson? Nah.”
The self-assurance was back now, even if he moved gingerly. There was something electric about him, and I could see how he made it sizzle, on stage anyway. But it wasn’t sizzling now. It was jittering and sparking, two degrees from shorting out.
He stepped closer. “That’s not bragging, you know. Jackson talks big—”
“Jackson is big.”
“Maybe around the mouth.” Then he smiled, though the look in his eyes was like flint striking flint. He gave me the up-and-down. “Nice dress.”
“It was a gift from my boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah. The guy at the door. I saw y’all arrive.” Lex pulled his phone out of his pocket, a sleek black number decorated with rhinestones. “I gotta take this, but listen, if you ever get tired of playing dress up with the mannequin out there, give me a call.”
He pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey there, lady friend.” Then he pushed open the fire door and left for the back parking lot. No limp, no hesitation, like nothing had happened.
I watched the door close behind him. So Rico and Frankie weren’t the only ones having problems with Lex Anderson. Jackson had problems too, money problems definitely. But from the way Lex had been tossing around Cricket’s name, I wondered if there were something more personal than financial conflicts going on. I could understand if there had been. All Lex Anderson needed was a motorcycle and a rap sheet, and he’d have been every guy I pined for in high school.
I knocked tentatively on the office door, and Jackson snatched it open. “I told you—” He frowned when he saw me, then forced a smile. “Tai? What are you doing here?”
“Using the bathroom.”
“The toilet’s leaking.”
“I only needed a mirror.” I leaned on the doorframe. “Is everything okay?”
“A little shorthanded, but making do. Cricket’s having to tend bar, but—”
“I mean about Lex.”
The smile crimped into a grimace. “You heard?”
“Not on purpose.” I hesitated. “Is it true there’s money missing?”
He looked up and down the hall. “Christ, Tai, don’t go throwing that around. Get in here.”
I stepped into his office. It was dark-paneled and messy, jumbled heaps of paperwork stacked on every flat surface—ledgers, receipts, promotional flyers. A box of swag from the Performance Poetry Internationals lay on its side in one corner, plastic cups and bumper stickers spilling onto the floor. The rest of the office was Georgia Bulldog black and red, including a poster-sized photograph of the 2005 first string team, with Jackson kneeling and grinning, his broad shoulders even more massive under the pads.
He sat behind his desk. Still built like a linebacker, but now as bald as an ice cube, he was prone to wearing bright citrus shirts and too-tight jeans. His boyish features sweetened up what would have been an otherwise fearsome package.
“It’s gone, all of it. Almost two thousand dollars.”
“Your money?”
“No, the money Cricket and I got from the team fund for tonight. I kept it in the safe.” He gestured toward a small square lockbox in the corner. “Only Cricket and I have the combination.”
“You think Lex took it?”
“I know Lex took it. He—”
The cacophony from the restaurant area intruded—the efficient swish of the double doors, the clang of pans, the rising clamor of voices.
Jackson stood. “I gotta check on the kitchen. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? Cricket’s freaked out as it is, and this is the last thing she needs to worry about.”
“If money’s missing, don’t you think—”
“No. I’ve got enough worries without bringing in the damn cops.” He looked at me with fake nonchalance. “What all did you hear anyway?”
I thought about the words flying back and forth between him and Lex. Something more than missing money was stewing, that was for sure, and I was betting it involved Cricket.
I kept my voice neutral. “Nothing that needs to go anywhere, right?”