Текст книги "Fry Another Day"

Автор книги: J. J. Cook

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

TWENTY-SEVEN

“How is that possible in a hospital?” I yelled after him. “Where’s security?”

“We should get out of here.” Delia glanced nervously around us. “It could be dangerous, Zoe.”

“No! We have to find out what happened. Didn’t they have a police officer protecting her?”

The nurse at the desk heaved herself out of the chair. “We don’t need anyone to protect our patients. We have the best security in the world.”

“It sounds like it,” I muttered before following Marsh.

“I’m going to find Miguel and Ollie,” Delia said. “Watch your back, Zoe.”

I walked quickly down the hall, looking for Marsh. Everyone else was running down the hall toward the exit.

The door to one room was open. I saw Marsh standing in there and went in to see what he was doing.

“Zoe.” He glanced at me and then back at his partner. “Macey’s safe, thank goodness. I’d like to know what she found out that made her a target.”

“Me, too.”

“You couldn’t understand anything that she was trying to tell you after she was shot?”

“She only said that she had information about what had happened. It had to be important. She almost died trying to get to me.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why she didn’t call me. I don’t even know where she was when she was shot. The police couldn’t find a crime scene.”

“I don’t know. What happened up here?”

“I had to go to the bathroom. Someone walked in, pretty as you please, and cut the lines to her IV while I was gone. A nurse saw it and started screaming. Everything went crazy after that.”

“Did the nurse see the person who did it?”

“I don’t know, Zoe. I stayed right here next to Macey.” He scratched his head. “The last few days have been like a circus. I don’t know what’s going on—except that a good friend of mine is dead and someone tried to kill Macey. How that goes together is anyone’s guess.”

I went over and held Macey’s hand. It was cool to the touch. She didn’t move. They’d already replaced her IV lines. She was lucky the nurse came in when she did.

“Now what?” I asked Marsh.

“The Birmingham police said they’ll keep an eye on her—at least until her family can have her moved back to Charlotte. I’m going to head back home, too. The chief says he’s sending someone else out with ‘fresh eyes’ to take a look, whatever that means.”

“But they’ll lose all your experience with the case.”

He shrugged. “We haven’t been doing all that well with it. Frankly, I’m ready to call it a day.”

I studied Macey’s face, willing her to open her eyes and tell us what she’d found. It didn’t happen, and the doctor and two nurses came in to shoo us both out.

“Well, I’m going on to Mobile,” I said to Marsh in the hall. “Please let me know what happens. I’d like to see Helms when she wakes up.”

“I will. Thanks, Zoe.”

As I turned to walk away, he said, “You know, at first I thought it was you. McSwain died right after he talked to you. You were involved with the race. It seemed possible.”

“I guess you changed your mind.”

“About you,” he agreed. “Not about Miguel Alexander and his girlfriend. I’d expect a call from the police in Mobile when you get there.”

That was thrilling news—nothing like having to deal with police in four different states. I wasn’t expecting that as part of the food truck race.

I found Miguel with Ollie and Delia. Tina had been treated and released. She’d been waiting at the front of the hospital, trusting that Miguel would come and get her.

We bundled back into the Mercedes. Tina tried to call shotgun. I edged her out. I try to be a nice person, but that wasn’t going to happen. She sat beside Ollie and Delia with great reluctance. I could tell it wasn’t going to be a fun trip home. At least Mobile wasn’t far away.

All I could think about was Helms, and the information she may have almost died twice for. What did McSwain’s and Alex’s deaths have in common? How did they relate to Reggie’s death?

“It had to be the same person that Alex was talking to on the phone that first day behind his RV.”

I realized that I’d spoken out loud. Everyone in the car was immediately quiet. I had no idea if there was a conversation that I’d interrupted.

“What did you say?” Ollie asked.

“I was thinking that McSwain was killed in Charlotte because he went to talk to Alex about the phone call I’d overheard. The man who was talking to Alex was the killer.”

Delia sighed and closed her compact mirror. “What does that even mean, Zoe?”

“It means that what Zoe overheard got McSwain killed,” Miguel clarified.

“But you said you didn’t really overhear anything that made sense,” Ollie added.

“Well, it was a little disjointed. I was sure that Alex was talking about being responsible for what had happened to Reggie. He sounded like there was more to come.”

“The more-to-come part came true,” Ollie said. “But I don’t think Alex was standing there planning his own death.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t. But what if all the disruptions in the race were meant to cover up Alex’s death?” I looked at Miguel. “This whole thing has been a setup from the beginning.”

I reminded everyone how the police had somehow been tipped off about Tina and Miguel. “She gave him money to defend her against Alex, who wanted to take everything from her.”

“Which I didn’t ask for,” Miguel reminded Tina. “And I don’t plan to keep. It was only supposed to be filing fees.”

“You’ve always been so good to me,” Tina declared. “I knew you would help me if I asked. Alex had a really good attorney, and I was too emotional to fight him. You were one of the best courtroom lawyers in our class.”

“Wow,” Ollie said. “I knew he was good when he got me off of that burglary charge.”

“Thanks,” Miguel said. “But what’s your point, Zoe? How is that related to Alex being killed?”

“Okay.” I got ready to explain. “Alex, and the man he was talking to that first day, were planning to kill Tina. They were going to use all the mayhem from the race, and Reggie’s death, to disguise her murder.”

“He knew I was there.” Tina nodded. “It’s possible he was just tired of fighting and knew I’d eventually win.”

“When McSwain confronted Alex, his partner—probably a paid killer—was there and realized that McSwain was a liability. How could they do what they wanted with him hanging around waiting for something to happen?”

“Let’s say that happened,” Miguel said. “How did Alex end up being the one who was killed instead of Tina?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they had a disagreement. Maybe the killer wanted more money. There was some mention of money in the RV before Alex was killed.”

“Why would the killer still be coming after me?” Tina asked in a whiny voice.

“I don’t know that, either. It seems like it would have been over with Alex’s death.”

“Maybe it was for the honor.” Ollie glanced at us. “You know, he wanted to finish the job so people didn’t think he couldn’t pull it off.”

“I’ve never known a professional killer,” Delia said. “Is that how they are?”

Ollie cleared his throat and sat back against the seat, his head almost touching the ceiling. “I don’t know. I’m just guessing. It’s not like I know any professional killers—at least not right now.”

“I shouldn’t go to Mobile.” Tina started crying again. “I’m probably doing exactly what the killer wants me to do. Let me out here, Miguel. I’ll walk to the nearest bus stop.”

“We’re only a few minutes outside the city,” he reasoned. “I’ll take you somewhere safe. At least talk to the police in Mobile first. We might still be able to sort this whole thing out.”

Tina sat forward and pressed herself against his shoulder—again. “You always know the right thing to do.”

I gave Delia a disgusted look that she returned. Ollie laughed out loud before he clamped a big hand over his mouth.

“It’s going to be fine,” Miguel told Tina. “It’s all going to work out.”

“That may or may not be true,” I muttered under my breath.

Miguel managed a quick smile at me. “What did you say, Zoe?”

“Nothing. Just thinking ahead to the last part of the race.” I smiled brightly at him.

He smiled back, not a clue.

“We better start figuring this out before the killer finishes his job and gets rid of Tina,” Ollie said. “Once he’s gone, the police probably won’t be able to find him.”

Tina made a slightly strangled cry.

“If there is a killer on Tina’s trail,” Delia added, “he probably won’t stop until she’s dead. Bless her heart.”

I smiled but kept my thoughts to myself.

It was wonderful when we finally rolled into Mobile. I love my hometown, and I was looking forward to clean clothes and staying in my own place, such as it was. Whoever it was that said, “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home,” had to know circumstances like mine.

Delia was staying with me since she had to give up her apartment after she’d lost her job. Ollie was still living at the homeless shelter two doors down. What I could pay either one of them wasn’t enough to have their own places. I hoped it would get better soon, but there were no guarantees.

Miguel pulled the Mercedes smoothly into the rutted and overgrown parking lot for the old shopping center where my diner was located. He got out as we did. Tina stayed in the car.

“Back where we started from,” he said with a smile.

“Almost. A little better off, I think.” I couldn’t resist putting my arms around him and giving him a big kiss. I knew Tina was watching from the car. That wasn’t the only reason I did it, but it was one of them.

“That part is a lot better.” His arms were around me. “What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

I sighed. “I still have to go to the race dinner and see what we have to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah. That’s right. I’d almost forgotten. Where are they having the dinner?”

“At Chef Art’s mansion, Woodlands. He invited everyone to stay there, too. You know how he likes to show off his place.”

“I’ll be there. Six P.M.?”

“Yep. You could pick me up, if you don’t mind. Uncle Saul has the Biscuit Bowl. I’m not sure when he’s going to be back.”

“I’d like that. I can’t wait to see what they want you to do for the finale. Whatever it is, it probably won’t be as good as seeing you in that red bikini.”

I smiled, and he kissed me again.

“Hey, can I get a ride, too?” Ollie yelled from across the parking lot.

“Me, too.” Delia was waiting for me to open the door to the old diner.

“He’s got big ears,” I told Miguel.

“I heard that,” Ollie shouted.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Miguel laughed.

I kissed him again, with one eye on Tina’s face. “I can’t wait.”

– – – – – – –

It was good to be home. The diner was a little decrepit, but it was mine. I could still look at it and see all my big dreams coming true. Someday, I planned to be as famous as Chef Art. People would come from all over the world to eat my food. The dream kept me going. If I won the fifty-thousand-dollar grand prize for the race, I’d be a step closer to that dream.

“If you win the money,” Delia asked, painting her toenails, “will you still run the food truck?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it would all depend on whether or not that’s enough to remodel everything here—and still have money to live on until the customers come to find me.”

I wasn’t crazy, despite what my mother, some friends, and my ex-boyfriend thought. Word of mouth for a good meal was essential, but so was having an advertising budget and being able to buy more food. I knew restaurants closed more frequently than any other small business. I’d worked at a bank for years. I was aware of the odds.

Still, most people didn’t think I’d come this far. When I’d given up that other life of watching food shows on TV and started making real food for real people, I’d been determined to reach my goal. The food truck had already played a big part in my plan. Even with the fifty thousand dollars—only half of which would be left after taxes—I’d still have a long way to go.

We were sitting on the stools by the remodeled bar, next to the cooking area in the diner. The four booths were like traps when you sat on them. They sank down so low under the tables—it was almost impossible to get up. We were relaxing and talking about the last few days as I worked on my shopping list for the next day. I hadn’t heard from Uncle Saul yet, but I knew the basics of what would be needed for the last day.

“I can’t believe what’s happened with Ollie and me. Delia smiled like the cat that drank the cream. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he has a good heart. And he’s sexy, too. That surprised me.”

“A good heart I hope you’ll try not to break.” The dryer buzzed and I went to get my clean clothes.

“Zoe, you can’t expect me to be alone the rest of my life because someone might get hurt. Ollie’s a big boy. He can handle whatever happens between us.”

“I don’t expect that. Really. If you care about Ollie, I’m fine with it. He’s crazy about you.”

“Then why do you think I’d break his heart?”

I looked at her beautiful face. “I think you want more than an ex-marine who lives in a homeless shelter can give you.”

She laughed, but her eyes were guarded. “I’ve worked since I was twelve. I supported my mother for years before she died. I’ve supported my sisters. I’d like a little comfort before I die. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

I couldn’t judge her. I’d been born into a life of wealth and privilege. I didn’t know what it was like not to have whatever I wanted. I’d given that up for my diner, but I knew in my heart, if I needed my parents, they’d be there. Delia’s life hadn’t been like that.

“I just don’t know if Ollie can change to be that person. I wish he could, for him as well as for you.”

“You may be right,” she said after a long moment. “Maybe I should stay away from him.”

She went into the pantry that we’d redone for her bedroom so she could have some privacy. I heard the door close softly and realized that I might have hurt her feelings. It wasn’t my intention, but sometimes words get tangled up and they don’t say what you mean.

TWENTY-EIGHT

I heard a horn honk loudly outside and looked through the large plate-glass window. It was the Biscuit Bowl with Uncle Saul at the wheel. I ran outside to greet him and get my cat.

“How was your trip back?” I asked him. “Did everything stay together?”

“It was fine.” He laughed. “I was afraid Alabaster might try and take a bite out of me, she was so happy I was home.”

“I’m glad you and the food truck made it back.” I opened the passenger door, and Crème Brûlée opened his eyes a little and meowed at me. “I’m so happy to see you, baby. I hope you had a good trip, too.”

He swatted at me with his paws and turned over to go back to sleep. I picked him up and hugged him as I took him inside.

“I fed him when I got home,” Uncle Saul said. “The size of that feline, he must need to eat again.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him,” I cooed to my kitty. “The man has an alligator for a pet. What can you expect?”

I got all of Crème Brûlée’s necessary items set up for him. He took a short tour of the kitchen area, ate a little food, and then went back to sleep in his own bed. Seeing him there made my day complete.

“We’re going out to Chef Art’s place for dinner tonight, right?” Uncle Saul asked.

“We are. If you’re planning to stay in town instead of driving back, you could stay with him instead of at a hotel.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Sounds great. I’ll call Cole and have him take me out there. I’ll see you tonight.”

Cole was an old friend of Uncle Saul’s from his restaurant days. He drove a taxi around the city. I’d used his service many times since giving up my Prius to buy the diner and the food truck.

“What about Bonnie?” I asked. “Was she happy to see you, too?”

He almost blushed. I smiled, surprised by his reaction.

“She missed me, I think. We’re not exactly ready to take any vows, but we had a good talk. Maybe something is gonna happen. We’ll see.”

I hugged him. “I’m so glad. She’s really nice.” I thanked him again for putting up with food truck madness.

“Hold on,” he said. “There’s still tomorrow. Unless you’re saying you don’t need my help.”

“Never! What do you have in mind for food?”

“I’m only thinking savory, Zoe. You take the sweet. I’ll get what we need for my part.”

“Great. I love mystery food.”

We talked for a while after he called Cole. Delia never put in an appearance, which made me feel even worse. Who was I to mess around with other people’s lives? I had a hard enough time living my own.

Once Uncle Saul was gone, I decided to tackle deep cleaning the kitchen in the Biscuit Bowl. I knew a lot of my usual chores had gone undone while I’d been away. Tomorrow, the kitchen would be sparkling when I accepted that fifty-thousand-dollar check.

There were crumbs and food where there shouldn’t have been. The deep fryer wasn’t too bad, since the oil was new. I cleaned out the little oven—everything would still have to be cooked in there to comply with the race rules.

The floor was awful. Ollie was bad about spilling things. I scoured and scrubbed until my fingers were sore. The kitchen finally smelled clean. I vacuumed the front seat and the back of the food truck. It was surprising what a mess Crème Brûlée had made just sleeping in the seat. At least he hadn’t been sick or used anything for his litter box up there. I felt blessed.

While I was cleaning, I was thinking about Alex and Detective McSwain again. I couldn’t help it. I wished I could figure out what had happened to them—and to Detective Helms.

Funny how my mind didn’t wander to include Tina in those thoughts.

I realized that despite Tina being injured I still considered her to be a possible suspect—without Miguel’s help, of course. She could still have set him up to take the fall for Alex’s death. It made sense in a lot of ways.

There was no proof that she was involved, which was why the police kept letting her go. They wanted Miguel and Tina to both be guilty, or neither of them. I thought that was ridiculous.

I had my eye on Tina. Well, at least I’d had my eye on Tina. I supposed Miguel was finding her a hotel room. She wasn’t really part of the race at all. I didn’t think she’d stay with Chef Art.

I hoped she wasn’t staying with Miguel.

As I was finishing up my job with the Biscuit Bowl, Mobile detective Patti Latoure rolled up in her car. I’d met her about the same time I’d met Miguel last year, after a series of unfortunate events I really wanted to forget.

“Zoe.” She nodded and smiled at me. She was of medium height and build, with suspicious blue eyes and dyed blond hair tied back from her face. She was wearing dressy black pants and a white top under her black jacket.

I’d gotten to know her a little. She was friendly, and I liked her. She’d told me she planned to be a lawyer until a friend of hers had been killed when she was in college. I knew she had a husband who hated her being a cop, and they had all kinds of arguments about it. I also knew they had no kids.

“Hi! I was kind of expecting you.”

She got out of her car and put her hands on her slender hips. I could see her detective’s badge and her gun. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve been raising a ruckus all the way here from Charlotte.”

I laughed, knowing her well enough to do so. “Not me personally—the race. I haven’t done anything except make biscuit bowls, serve them on roller skates and in a bikini, and find a dead man. Not much.”

She smiled, too. “I guess we’ll keep a special eye on the race events tomorrow. It was kind of a mess, wasn’t it?”

“You could say that. Come inside and I’ll fill you in. I have to work on my sweet filling for tomorrow.”

She followed me in and perched on one of the stools at the counter as I poured her some sweet iced tea and made some biscuits. I explained everything about the race from Charlotte to Mobile and let her draw her own conclusions.

“That’s a shame about the Dog House.” She sipped tea and nibbled at a biscuit. “I loved that man’s Polish sausage, even though I couldn’t look at him when I bought it.”

“I know what you mean. I guess the Dog House was in good shape, though. The race inspectors put us through a harder inspection than we get here.”

“And you say the police are sure that his death wasn’t an accident?”

I shrugged as I debated putting a little sugar into the biscuit bowls tomorrow morning. “That’s what they said. Detectives Helms and Marsh came with us from Charlotte after Reggie died and their friend, Detective McSwain, was killed.”

She seemed to be thinking about it as she ate her biscuit. I hadn’t fried it for her. She’d wanted it plain.

Ollie came in a few minutes later and sat beside her on a stool.

I wished they were real paying customers. But the diner wasn’t set up to pass inspection for more than a few nonpaying friends, and making food for the Biscuit Bowl.

“Nothing changed at the shelter while I was gone.” Ollie got some tea, too. “I didn’t expect it to. It always feels like something should change when I go away.”

Patti glanced at him as though she was trying to figure out what he was saying. “Ollie, sometimes we have to make our own changes, you know? If you want things to be different, you have to make them different.”

Delia came out of her room and joined us. I could see she was still a little upset at what I’d said to her earlier. I was sorry I’d hurt her, but I believed that what I said was true.

“Need any help with that?” she asked in a sulky voice.

“Nope. I’m fine. I’ve been thinking about putting a little powdered sugar into the sweet biscuit bowl dough for tomorrow. What do you think?”

“I don’t think it could hurt.”

Ollie disagreed. “They’re not donuts, Zoe. The middles make them sweet enough.”

I shrugged, still thinking about it as I put a few samples into the deep fryer.

“I suppose neither one of you saw anything out of the ordinary during the race.” Patti turned to them. “Those murders have been dumped right in our lap now.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Delia laughed. “I saw Ollie in a red bikini. That was out of the ordinary.”

Ollie grinned and Delia kissed his cheek.

“In a good way.” She smiled up at him. “I didn’t know a man could look good in a bikini.”

“How about you, Ollie?” Patti asked him.

“I didn’t see anything that had to do with murder or vandalism, if that’s what you’re asking, Detective Latoure.” Ollie’s tone was slightly rehearsed. He was always careful around the police.

Patti finished her biscuit and tea before she got to her feet. “I guess I’d better get going. I hear you all start early tomorrow. Let’s hope this part of the race is quiet.”

I agreed with her. “See you tomorrow.”

“And if any of you think of anything you didn’t tell the police in any of those other cities, give me a call, huh?”

“We will,” I promised for all of us.

Delia and Ollie were staring at each other as though they’d never seen each other. I took the first biscuit bowls out of the deep fryer and set them on the side to cool and drain.

“I’m going to step outside and call Miguel,” I said.

Neither one of them responded.

I went out, a tiny blossom of hope inside me that my two good friends had really found each other. Ollie deserved someone special in his life again. From what little I’d been able to glean from Miguel about his past, his dead wife was his first and last romance. He’d been unwilling to trust anyone since then. I couldn’t say that I blamed him.

It was the same thing for Delia, though not so dramatic. She deserved someone who loved her. They both did.

I called Miguel as I sat outside on the window ledge. I tried not to peek inside at what was going on. There was no answer. I left him a voice mail and walked around the building a few times. I didn’t want to go back inside right away.

The back of the old shopping center was a deplorable mess. I’d called and written letters to the city, and to the landlord, but there had been no response. Everything—including the kitchen sink and toilet—was thrown there. No wonder we had a problem with rats and bugs.

Since I had nothing better to do, I went ahead and called both offices again. There was no answer at the landlord’s number. The city clerk told me I’d have to file a special complaint form. When I told her I’d already filed that form—several times—she told me, quite cheerfully, that I’d have to wait until they could review it.

I took a few pictures of the mess in back. Next time, I could illustrate my point. Maybe I could even get the Mobile Times newspaper to write something about it. It was sad that we had to rely on the media to take care of problems.

I’d been outside about thirty minutes. I had to go back in and work on the biscuit bowls again before the dough went bad.

Ollie and Delia were sitting at one of the old booths. Their heads were close together, and they were whispering to each other. I wished I could take a picture of that, too.

Ignoring them, I went about seeing what was in the fridge and pantry that I could use for the sweet filling tomorrow. I had some ingredients to make the pecan pie filling I’d tried a few weeks before. The brown sugar confection had been very popular the one day that I’d made it. It was expensive, too, so I hadn’t made it again.

Would some of my regular customers come to the race event tomorrow? I hoped so. Mobile had a lively, and popular, food truck community. Those customers might go somewhere else rather than wade through the race crowd, but I hoped to see a few familiar faces.

I decided to make the pecan pie filling the next day. I could use my ingredients, but I’d have to wait to make it until I was in the food truck tomorrow. Since it was so sweet, I decided to go without the extra sugar. I knew it would be a good match.

I looked at the clock above the diner door. It was almost five P.M. I didn’t want to interrupt Ollie and Delia, but I needed time to get ready for dinner.

I called Miguel again—still no word from him. I hoped he hadn’t gotten caught up in something with Tina and wouldn’t be able to get away. I thought he’d probably call if that were the case. I tried not to imagine what kinds of things could come up with Tina. The woman was a whiny pest.

But I trusted him. I didn’t think he’d play around with me that way. The time we’d spent away from Mobile had been perfect for us.

At least I’d thought so. I hoped he did, too.