I was massively overdue for a girls’ night followed by a very long night of sleep.
“You’re on,” I said. “Let’s head home.”
Chapter 18
“Did you always have a monitor on your ceiling?” I asked. I was lying on my back on top of a huge, overstuffed pillow in the middle of Zoey’s living room. I had a take-out container of Thai fried dumplings on my chest, and I was staring up at an enormous flat-screen TV mounted on the ceiling. Zoey was using it as a computer monitor, and it had been showing us quadruple speed surveillance video of Morgan working at Sole Support.
“Mmhmm,” Zoey said. She was lying back on another huge pillow right next to me and was slowly munching on pork and crab-filled dim sum. “People almost never look at ceilings. Plus I have my ceiling painted black and the screen is black when off, so it blends.”
“And you’ve got those glow stars pasted over in the corner.”
“Yep. If you don’t want people to see something, give them something else to look at.”
“Morgan has been with that one customer for forever,” I said. He had only helped three customers and the surveillance video was six hours into his shift. They’d all been well-dressed women quite a few years older than him. Of course, that was the primary clientele of the store. But the store had men’s orthopedic shoes, too. Yet anytime a man came in the store, if Morgan wasn’t already busy with a customer, he would make himself scarce by disappearing into the back. Over and over again, his co-worker was stuck having to take care of all the customers that Morgan didn’t want to fool with.
“Yeah, and that other guy has waited on at least fifteen customers.”
“You see the dirty looks the guy’s throwing him?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s ticked… And speaking of ticked, how are things going with you and your ex?”
I choked on a bite of dumpling. “Dan?” I croaked as soon as I managed to wash the bite down with a sip of wine.
“Yeah. You two talking?”
“Not if I can help it.” And that was true, but I still never seemed to be able to escape the man. There was always his crazy Aunt Dorothy, who hated me and would love to run me out of town. Then there were his parents. They were hopelessly optimistic that Dan and I would reconcile. And then of course, there was Dan himself.
When I was down and out, barely keeping my tushie above ground, he’d treated me like a serial-killer leper. He’d warned everyone against me and had done his best to strip away every resource I’d needed for my survival.
He’d tried to ruin me. Thoroughly and completely.
But now that I was standing on my own two feet—without him, making it, building a life for myself—suddenly he was reaching out to me. He’d called several times. He’d played nice and sweet. And when I’d run into him in person, the earth had moved beneath my feet. He was intoxicating, and I hated him.
“He’s not doing good, you know.”
I chewed slowly on the corner of one of the dumplings. It wasn’t the first time that I’d heard he wasn’t doing well. I wanted not to care, but we’d built a heating and air installation and service business in Chicago. We’d built it from nothing into a multi-million dollar something, and we’d done it together. A bonafide team. It was hard not to care.
“He’ll be fine,” I said. I didn’t know if it was true. I didn’t believe it or not believe it. It was just something to say to dismiss the whole subject so that I could move on with my life without him invading my head.
“He’s getting sued. Breach of contract. Large companies are backing out of business deals. Not sure, but I think he might be ruined.”
I stopped chewing but kept the gnawed-on dumpling perched against my lips. Ruined… Dan might be ruined. Dan, instead of me. I wanted not to care. I wanted not to care so badly.
“He’ll be fine,” I said again, my voice tiny and convincing no one.
“No, he’s toast… But Joel’s not toast. And Brad, he likes toast.”
I laughed and plopped the half-eaten dumpling back into the container on my chest. “What’s your game, Zoey Jin?”
“You’re like that planet over there in the middle of those stars.” I glanced at the glowing constellation she had in the corner of the ceiling. “You have three different men caught in your pull. You have gravity, Kylie.”
“Gravity,” I snorted. “I have a café. Brad comes by for breakfast and Joel shows up whenever. They like the food. They like the place. And, when it suits them, they like me. But it’s not about me. It’s about their male egos. Joel likes me because Brad likes me and vice versa. As far as Dan goes, he’s Pluto. He doesn’t even count. Nobody even knows what he is. That’s how much he matters in this scenario. He’s irrelevant.”
“Kylie, they can’t like the food. You’re a terrible cook.”
And just like that, my entire argument fell apart.
“Well then, they like the memory of Susan’s food,” I countered. Susan was my cousin and the previous owner of the café.
“Brad didn’t come in for breakfast every single morning when Susan owned it.”
I lifted my head and looked at Zoey. “He didn’t?”
“Nope. And Joel was around, but he was different.”
“Different how?”
“He was plain. Flat. There’s a spark in him now. He likes you.”
And I liked him, too. I also liked Brad. I liked them both a lot, but I didn’t know what to do with it.
“I don’t trust them,” I admitted, surprising myself. It hadn’t even been a conscious thought before the words came out of my mouth. “I trusted Dan so much. I’d thought he was the guy I could always count on to protect me. I never imagined that he’d be the person I’d need protection from. But he was. Now there’s Brad and Joel, and I like them both. A lot. But I don’t trust them. I don’t know if I ever can.”
A thought occurred to me then. One that made me happy, but one that worried me, too. “Zoey,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“Are you ruining Dan?” I knew she had the skills.
“Nope. It’s all him. He’s an idiot.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head back against the pillow. Above me the video was rolling at quadruple speed, but there was still a sense that something had changed. Morgan was with a customer he’d been with forever. The exchange was wrapping up. Looked like he got her personal number. His co-worker disappeared into the back of the store, the customer left, and Morgan’s manager came out. He looked upset.
“Hey, hey,” I said, wagging my hand at Zoey. “Slow it down to regular speed.”
I heard the clicking of the keys of a computer keyboard, and the surveillance feed slowed down.
On the enormous screen above us, Morgan’s manager didn’t just look upset. He looked mad. He stood inches away from Morgan, leaning forward so that Morgan had to lean back, and he jabbed his finger at Morgan’s chest. Morgan was wide-eyed and looked scared.
“Maybe Morgan’s boss did it?” Zoey said, speculating.
But as we watched, Morgan got the chance to start talking. The more he talked, the less angry his boss got. Morgan was using that silver tongue of his to smooth things over between them. By the time the conversation ended, Morgan’s boss was smiling. He still wagged his finger now and then, but his entire stance was different. There was more distance between the two men, and they were both relaxed.
“Are they laughing?” I asked, amazed at Morgan’s ability to turn that encounter around. It ended with Morgan’s boss patting him on the shoulder and then walking off. “Wow.”
“I guess it wasn’t his boss,” Zoey said.
“Whoever did kill Morgan, I bet they didn’t give him much of a chance to talk. Looks like he might have been able to diffuse the killer if he’d gotten the chance.”
My cell phone buzzed. I clicked it to life and found a message from Sam. It said, “Homeless guy causing problems. Need you back.”
“Dang it.” My heart sank. Today wa
s the easiest day I’d had in weeks, and it was all due to Jonathan showing up. He’d taken such a huge load off of me, but now that was going to go away. Tomorrow was going to be just as overwhelming as yesterday, with no end in sight. “I have to go,” I said, getting up from the floor.
“Problem?” Zoey asked, sitting up.
“Yeah, my new employee.” I threw my head back and released a full-on whine. “I thought he was going to be so good!”
“Need backup? Want my taser?” Zoey asked.
“Naw, it’ll be okay. This stuff”—I pointed toward the ceiling screen with the now frozen video—“is more important.”
Zoey collapsed back onto her pillow. “Let me know how it goes.”
Early evening darkness had already taken over the sky, but I jay-jogged across Main Street to get back to the café in a hurry. I flung open the café’s front door, and spotted Sam out in the dining area. He was with a customer, but he pointed toward the kitchen.
I hurried to the back, ready to lay it all out on the line about how Jonathan had been great but that his trial hire was over. I’d send him on his way with a generous payout from the cash register. But when I got into the kitchen, it was to find him at the sink, up to his elbows in hot suds.
“Oh, hey boss!” he said with a bright, cheerful smile.
He was the same energetic, easygoing person who I’d met twelve hours earlier.
The kitchen was immaculate. It sparkled. Everything was in its place, and it smelled wonderful with the scent of chili that had slow cooked all day long.
“Jonathan, everything okay?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be reacting to.
“Everything’s cool here, boss, but there’s a guy out back needing to talk to you.” He grimaced. “Looks a little green around the gills.”
Out back… So everything inside the café was fine. Jonathan was fine! My future was not bleak!
A weight like wet cement lifted off of me, making me lightheaded with happiness.
I refrained from skipping to the back door like a school girl. I didn’t know what challenge was waiting for me on the other side of that door, and I couldn’t make myself worry about it. I was downright giddy, that is until I opened the door and found Derek waiting for me.
Green around the gills was right. I didn’t know how the man was still standing. His cheeks were sunken. His eye sockets were sunken too and looked like they’d taken a pounding, but I didn’t think that was it at all. The dark circles there were there because he was so sick. If someone had told me he’d died yesterday, I would have believed them.
“Derek…” I said as I stepped outside into the chilly night air. He was scratching at a raw spot on his face. If he didn’t stop, he’d have a scar. I didn’t say anything about it, though. That seemed to be the least of his problems.
“I found some stuff out about your boy,” he said. He sounded parched, and his lips were cracked and pasty-looking.
“My boy?”
“Yeah, the guy they found in pieces. It was his neighbor, Neville.”
My heart missed a beat. Derek had solved the case! “His neighbor killed him?”
Derek shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. But they’d been fighting. For months. All the time. Hated each other. And Neville, he likes…” He shrugged again. “He likes some of the stuff I like.” Embarrassment had crept into his voice with the admission.
“You mean like…” I didn’t want to say drugs. It was the huge elephant trumpeting in the corner of the room, yet I didn’t want to be so bold as to point a finger at it.
“Yeah, he’s like me.” Derek shuffled his feet. “Not as bad, but he’s like me. He sells and uses. People come and go. All the time. I’ve… I’ve made some trades with ‘em. Done some stuff.” It was shame instead of embarrassment that laced his words this time.
I was a little disappointed. Spats between neighbors weren’t uncommon. Just because Morgan’s neighbor Neville and he fought, it didn’t mean Neville had killed him. Still, Derek had gone out of his way to tell me what he knew.
My voice was kind when I spoke. “Thanks, Derek. You’ve been a big help. Can I get you something to eat?”
Derek’s gaze flicked from me to the open door I was standing in front of, then he shook his head. “Naw. Thanks.” He went back to shuffling his feet and dropped his gaze.
“Derek… you want to stay here tonight?”
Derek stopped fidgeting and looked at me full on. “That ain’t smart.” He said it again, his gaze never once wavering. “That ain’t smart. Be more careful with yourself.”
I was stunned into silence. A junkie on death’s door had just rebuked me about how I take care of myself—and he’d been right. Humbled didn’t even begin to cover the mix of emotions that filled me.
Derek turned and walked away with a shuffling gate that made me think that one of his legs or feet weren’t working right.
I started to call out to him, to call him back, to try to do something for him, but a gentle hand on my shoulder stopped me.
I turned to find Jonathan standing there, one hand on my shoulder, the other holding a solid wooden rolling pin. I realized that he’d been behind me, ready to clobber Derek if things had turned bad. “Let ‘em go. He’s right. You should be more careful with yourself.”
I glanced after Derek, but the night had swallowed most of him up. He looked like nothing more than a faint apparition.
I had to let him go.
“Okay… okay,” I said, then followed Jonathan back inside.
“I’ve got this,” he said. “Sam said you live upstairs. He’s going to close, and the kitchen’s good. You can take off. It’s cool.” The worry in his eyes said the rest.
I knew I didn’t look good. I’d been running on fumes for days. I was so tired. My body vibrated with adrenaline-fueled fatigue.
“I can pay you, give you some cash,” I said.
Jonathan shook his head. “I’d rather have a job. Something more than a day. Figured today was my audition.” He smiled, bright, and his easy going nature was contagious. I felt like I could stop running with him around, like I could finally stop long enough to take a deep breath.
“You’re hired. How often can you work?”
Jonathan was beaming. “Anytime. All the time.”
“Can you be here in the morning?”
“With bells on!” I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile got even bigger.
We settled the details, then I got my four-legged sidekick, Sage, and headed upstairs. Tonight I was going to sleep long enough to feel like I’d slept.
Tonight I was going to take care of me.
Chapter 19
The next morning I woke up without a skull-bursting fatigue headache. I took a shower for more than two minutes, and when I went down to the café, I found Jonathan already there, outside, waiting for me. Just like yesterday, he had a hop in his step and a big smile on his face. He was warm sunshine before the dawn even came.
I made us simple cheese omelets for breakfast, and we talked about a game plan while we ate. He’d chop and wash and I’d cook. He’d prep plates with food, and just like in the fancy restaurants, I’d double check them and make sure they looked pretty-ish before they went out to the customers.
And we planned a menu that he could manage even if I had to leave, which I was sure I’d have to. Even if nothing came up with the case, I had to make a big trip to the store soon to restock on meat and produce.
“I hate to do it,” I said, “but I think that today needs to be a spaghetti and meatballs day.” It was my go-to meal when things got tough, and I was concerned that my customers would get tired of it. But I needed a reliable option that we could make in advance and that Jonathan could serve whether I was here or not.
“Sounds great to me, boss. Pasta sticks to the ribs.” He patted his non-existent belly and grinned through his white beard. “That takes care of dinner. What about supper?”
I blinked. Lost. “Huh?”
>
“You know, supper.” He paused before saying it again, as if that would help clarify its meaning. “Supper… Breakfast, dinner, supper.”
“Ohhh!” I said. “Uh…”
“That’s what we call it around these parts. Evening meal is supper.”
“Huh, okay… And lunch, it’s…”
“Dinner.” Jonathan’s smile was making his eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Okay, you’re havin’ fun with me,” I said, enjoying the good-natured joshing.
Jonathan’s smile fell away. “No, no! Breakfast, dinner, supper. That’s what my mama always called it.” He turned serious. “And my mama was always right.”
“Well, uh, you got any ideas for supper, then?” I asked, hopeful. “It needs to be something that can be prepped this morning and finished off without me if I’m not here.”
Jonathan’s eyes rolled up and roamed around like he was searching the far corners of his mind. Then his brows shot up, and his gaze locked with mine. “Meatloaf!”
“Meatloaf…” I liked that idea. I grabbed my cellphone and started looking up recipes. There were so many. Everyone had a different take on what made the perfect meatloaf. Finally I settled on one that included slow caramelized onions and a lot of sauce. If we got it wrong and the meatloaf turned out dry, the onions and sauce would add a lot of moisture back into the dish. “Okay! We’ve got a plan!”
Jonathan lifted his hand high into the air for a high-five, and I didn’t leave him hanging. We slapped one out and then got to work.
By the time Zoey showed up to drag me away, everything that could be taken care of in advance had been taken care of, and I hadn’t even had to take any naps.
“Where to first?” I asked as we headed out the kitchen’s back door. Today Zoey was wearing a white blouse and a black and white plaid miniskirt with four-inch-heeled black go-go boots. I was really going to have to get a tour of her closet someday. She made my simple outfit of jeans and lightweight teal midriff sweater look downright shabby in comparison.
A Berry Cunning Conman: A Laugh-Out-Loud Cozy Mystery (Kylie Berry Mysteries Book 4) Page 12
