by Gale Deitch
I took May by the hand and walked her to the living room sofa. I sat down next to her, picked up the photo album from the coffee table and began to turn the pages.
She laughed and pointed to a picture of Micah as a toddler jamming birthday cake into his mouth with an icing-covered hand. “A real cutie, wasn’t he?”
I took a closer look at the grinning boy in the picture. “Sure was. He had those adorable dimples even back then, didn’t he?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Mama and I fawned all over that little imp, even as he got older. We let him get away with everything.”
“I’m closing the restaurant from three o’clock to five for the memorial service tomorrow. What would you like us to serve?” I asked, putting my hand on her arm.
“Oh, I guess we’ll put out some muffaletta sandwiches and pralines, Micah’s two favorites. They’re both on our regular menu, so that should be easy enough for the kitchen. I’ll invite some of the business folks on the block and my caterin’ truck friends. We’ll just spend a little time rememberin’ Micah. That’s all.”
She glanced at me. “How’s it goin’ at the restaurant? You talk to some o’ the staff to see if they know anything?”
I paused, wondering how much I should tell May about my suspicions. Certainly, Micah wasn’t a favorite with the restaurant staff who only tolerated him because he was May’s brother. In their minds, he was a loud and obnoxious jerk who strung along some of the waitresses like pearls of tapioca. “Sure, I’ve been talking to them as I can. Gus was pretty intimidating at first; at least he tried to be. But I think we’ve come to an understanding. I don’t know, though. He doesn’t share much; tends to be a little secretive with me.”
May shook her head. “I don’t know how my restaurant could survive without Gus. He keeps everything runnin’ so smooth. Takes care a’ the food orders from our vendors, manages the staff, maintains the quality of the food and service. That Gus is a gem, he is.” She looked at me. “You don’t suspect Gus, do you?”
“Right now, everyone is a suspect. You’ve been working with your staff for so long it’s hard for you to see them objectively. That’s why I’m there, right?”
She looked doubtful but nodded slowly. “Yes, that is why I wanted you to manage Maybelline’s. But Gus? I don’t know.”
I put my hand on hers. “I agree that Gus is a great guy. But I do think he was feeling threatened that you might make Micah the restaurant manager and that he would take over some of Gus’s duties. And I don’t think Gus trusted Micah to keep your best interests at heart.”
May frowned. “That doesn’t mean he would—kill Micah. Not Gus.”
“I’m not saying that. I’m just coming in as an objective observer and letting you know what I see. But after what happened last night, I’m impressed with him. I think he has your back in more ways than one.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean those goons came back for a visit last night. They had Gus out in the alley ready to beat him up to get some protection money.”
May stood up. “They threatened Gus? But he doesn’t have any money to give them.”
“I think they wanted to give you a clear message about how serious they are. I’m afraid you haven’t seen the last of those guys. The leader, LeBlanc, told me to give you his regards. They’re going to be back.” I hesitated. “I think you need to call in the authorities.”
“No way,” she said, putting her hands up in a defensive gesture and shaking her head. “I got rid of those thugs before and I can do it again. The police will just get them riled up again, and they’ll be out there smashin’ up the place in the middle of the night.”
I raised my voice in appeal to her. “But these guys are dangerous. They could have hurt Gus badly. And what if they had something to do with Micah’s….” I didn’t say the word because May turned slowly to me, her eyes wide.
“No,” she said. “That’s not how they operate. They might threaten. They might rough somebody up. They might even try to wreck the place. But murder? No. I don’t think so.”
“May, let me tell Daniel about this. He can have a security detail out to watch the restaurant. He’ll know how to handle it.”
May sat down next to me and looked me in the eye. “Trudie, I know you’re just tryin’ to help, but I do not want the police involved. Promise you won’t tell Daniel.”
I looked down at my lap and then back up to her. “Okay. I promise I won’t tell Daniel.”
I USED MY key to get into Daniel’s house, hoping to slip into his bed to wake him up, but by the time I entered the bedroom, he was already in the bathroom showering.
I got a plate from the kitchen and set the croissants on the bedside table then took off my clothes, pulled my hair out of the ponytail so it fell to my shoulders and slid under the covers. The bathroom door opened, and, drying his hair with a towel draped over his head and one around his waist, he stepped into the bedroom.
“Breakfast is ready,” I announced.
As he removed the towel from his head, I shrieked, pulling the sheet up to my neck. “Who are you?”
An older man with graying hair and a bit of a paunch stared back at me. “Who are you?”
At the same moment, I heard the front door open and seconds later Daniel entered the bedroom. He held a bag from the bagel shop down the street. His jaw dropped as he looked at the half-naked man standing in the same room with his naked, although covered up, girlfriend. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me. I’m here to wake you up for our breakfast—our meeting—well, you know what I mean. Who is this man?”
Daniel looked back and forth between us. “Trudie, meet my father, Stu Goldman. Dad, this is my girlfriend, Trudie Fine.”
When I took a closer look, I could see the resemblance, but what the herring. The man approached me with his hand extended. “Nice to meet you, Trudie.”
“Stay back,” I said, pulling the sheet further up to my chin. “Daniel, you didn’t tell me your father was visiting. I just saw you last night, and you never said a word about him.”
Daniel sat down next to me on the bed. He leaned over to kiss me. “That’s because I didn’t know myself. I came home last night and here he was. I knew you’d be over so I ran out to get some breakfast for us. Didn’t you get my text?”
“What text?” Between the hearing, getting May home and the chaos at the restaurant, I’d been exhausted. I hadn’t even looked at my phone this morning. “Well, you could have called me to give me a heads up. Especially when I didn’t text you back.”
He brushed the hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought I’d be back before you got here.”
Daniel looked from me to his father and then back to me and began to laugh. His father peered at me and also started laughing. Daniel, bent over me now, couldn’t stop. Every time he looked up, he laughed so hard, he was actually guffawing, his body shaking the bed.
I glanced at the older man, giggled and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Goldman,” and the two of them howled. “Okay, you two,” I said. “Kindly give a lady a little privacy.”
Daniel’s father pulled a robe from the back of the bathroom door and the two of them left the bedroom so I could get dressed.
When I joined them in the kitchen, Daniel had plated the bagels, lox and cream cheese and both men sat at the table drinking coffee. I added May’s croissants to the spread and sat down to get acquainted.
Daniel had told me about his dad, a retired cop from Philadelphia. Since his mom had passed away five years earlier, loneliness sometimes got the best of his father, and he would turn up for a visit whenever he felt the need. I realized this was one of those times.
Daniel explained to his father about the murder and my temporary living arrangements. I felt my face redden when he mentioned why I had snuck into the house so early, and I suspected he was enjoying my discomfort as much as May’s delectable croissants. If we’d been alone, I would have loved to h
ave licked the buttery flakes of crust from his lips, but now he ran his tongue over the delicate morsels then wiped the rest with his napkin.
I knew I should tell Daniel about the goons in the alley with Gus last night, but I had promised May that I wouldn’t. Of course, I’d only promised not to tell Daniel. I hadn’t said anything about the rest of the force. I looked at Daniel’s father and had another idea.
“Mr. Goldman, how long are you going to be in town?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Oh, a couple days maybe. And you call me Stu, young lady. None of this Mr. Goldman stuff. After all, you and I have practically been naked together in the bedroom.”
I laughed. “Okay—Stu. Listen, I’d love for you to meet my parents. You’ll come to Sunday dinner at their house tomorrow. Mom thrives on company.”
He gazed at me a moment, and I could see where Daniel had gotten his amber-colored eyes with the wrinkles at the corners. “I’d be delighted to meet your parents, Trudie. And to have a good home-cooked dinner for a change. I’ll be there.” He stood up from the table. “For now, I’m going to get some clothes on and do a little sightseeing in town. Give you guys some privacy.”
“You don’t have to leave on our account,” I protested.
“Oh, yes he does,” Daniel said, leaning over to nibble at my neck.
I closed my eyes and savored the feeling.
“Give me five minutes and I’m gone.” Stu headed for the bedroom to get dressed.
As soon as his father had left the house, Daniel grabbed my hand and led me toward the bedroom. “I missed you last night.”
“I missed you, too. But it’s late, and now I need to get to Maybelline’s.”
He looked at his watch. “Yeah, I guess I’ve got to get down to the precinct, too. We’ll just have to try again tomorrow morning.”
Daniel pulled me in for a lingering kiss.
“Mm,” I said, finally breaking away. “I don’t want to leave, but I have to.” I went to the bedside table to retrieve my purse.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking up a piece of mail that looked like an invitation.
“What?”
I held it up for him to see.
“Oh, that’s the invitation for the gala on Tuesday night. At the Mayflower. Remember? I told you about it, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t say a thing about it.” I retrieved a card from the envelope to read the details. Six-thirty cocktail reception, seven-thirty dinner and dancing, eight-thirty awards presentation. “Are you going stag or bringing a date?”
“You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice raised. “It’s the annual fundraiser for families of fallen officers. I told you about it last month when I got the invitation.” He turned to face me and swallowed so hard I could see his Adam’s apple move. “Didn’t I?”
“No, you did not. And what am I supposed to wear to this gala? It’s black tie. That means it’s formal. I don’t have anything to wear to a formal event.”
“Sure you do, Trudie. You can wear that great dress you wore to dinner at Maybelline’s the other night. And I’ll pull out my tux.”
“No way. I can’t wear that dress to a formal event.” Frantically, I slid my hangered clothes one by one across the bar. “No, no, no. I have nothing. Nothing to wear to this gala of yours.” Dress shopping was a nightmare for me. It meant bringing armfuls of garments into a tiny dressing room, confronting my body in a three-way mirror, and squeezing into a dress that was obviously designed for someone shaped much differently than me. Most times, I left the store with nothing but shame and disgust that I couldn’t control my eating habits.
I turned to Daniel. “That’s it. I can’t go.”
“Sure you can.” He strode across the room, wrapped his arms around me and murmured into my ear. “You’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear, Trudie. Go shopping, baby. I’ll pay for whatever you find. Okay?”
“Go shopping? When? Today is Saturday. The event is Tuesday. Between May and her restaurant and my own catering business, which I am neglecting, I have no time to go shopping. Face it, Daniel. I can’t go.”
He lifted my chin, put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me gently. “Listen,” he said. “I know this woman who owns a dress shop on K Street.” He went to his bedside table and opened the drawer, shuffling the papers inside until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is. Charmaine’s. I’ll call her and tell her you’re coming. Charmaine will take care of you. Set you up with everything you need. I’ll have her bill me.”
“Charmaine, huh? And how do you know this Charmaine?”
He reddened. “I—helped her out with a little problem a couple of years ago.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So I guess she owes you.”
“Not really. But she thinks so.” He took my hand and placed the card in my palm. “Trudie, go see Charmaine. I’ve got to get to work now.” He gave me another peck on the lips and left me standing alone in the middle of his bedroom. I peered at Charmaine’s name written in fancy script wondering what Daniel had done for her and, the way he’d reacted, what their relationship had been.
Chapter Ten
On my way to Maybelline’s to see how lunch prep was going, I called Zach at the office. I’d been spending so much time at May’s restaurant that I worried about the status of our catering business. We’d been gradually working our way into the wedding business by word of mouth and by advertising at wedding expos and, in fact, just the next morning were scheduled to cater a wedding shower brunch.
“It’s okay, Trudie,” Zach assured me. “I’ve got everything under control for tomorrow. All the ingredients have been purchased for the quiches. Oh, and I’ve got the cupcakes in the oven now.”
“What would I do without you, Zach? This afternoon, we can ice and decorate the cupcakes. If we prebake the quiche crusts today, we can fill and finish them in the oven tomorrow morning while we assemble the Caesar salad. I’ll see you later.”
My day was filling up quickly, and I wondered how I could ever fit in a visit to Charmaine’s dress shop.
At Maybelline’s, Gus had already received the food deliveries and today’s fresh catch of red snapper and rockfish was laid out for both of us to admire before he wrapped them and put them in the cooler.
“How’s it going?” I asked as I entered the kitchen and unlocked the office door.
Gus gave me a smirk, which probably was as close to a smile as a guy like him could produce. “Everything’s on schedule.”
“Good. I’m just going to check over today’s menus and see how setup is going in the dining room. Then I’ve got some errands to do.”
“Trudie.”
I turned to him to see what he wanted.
“Did you speak to May?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And?”
I looked away from him, anywhere but into his eyes. “And I promised her I wouldn’t tell Daniel about those thugs last night.” I wasn’t going to mention that there were others I might speak to.
“Trudie,” his voice warned. “Don’t overstep your bounds.”
I lifted my chin and said, “I’ll keep my promise.” Then I turned and walked into the office.
After my conversation with May this morning, I realized I should be looking over the other employee files. So far, I’d only read Katie’s background information. Unlocking the cabinet drawer, I thumbed through the files looking for Gus or Gina but found neither. Maybe I’d missed them or they’d been misfiled. I started from the front, sliding each folder forward one by one until I’d reached the end. No Gus and no Gina. I remembered the look on Gina’s face when she’d noticed the pile of employee files I’d stacked on May’s desk and was sure she’d told Gus about it.
I’d have to ask May if she’d filed those two folders somewhere else but doubted I’d ever find them. In the meantime, I pulled out files for a few of the cook staff, skimmed the information and, finding nothing irregular, replaced them in the cabinet.
Gina stood at one end of a row of tables directing a young, newly-hired busboy who struggled to get the tables set correctly.
“Everything okay out here?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Okay out here, but you better see what’s happening in there.”
“What?” I asked. “Where?”
Gina merely nodded toward the restrooms, and I headed in that direction.
Inside the ladies’ room, Katie sat hunched in one of the floral chairs sobbing into a wad of tissues, her shoulders shaking violently.
I sat down next to her. “Katie? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and looked up at me, her red hair like a waterfall covering her face. I pushed the hair back and tucked it behind an ear. Her eyes were pink and puffy.
“My…my parents.” Then she started to sob again.
“What? What about your parents?”
“I told them about the b-baby.”
“And?”
“They’re furious. Called their lawyer to start adoption proceedings.” She shook her head. “I told them I wouldn’t sign my baby away. I won’t do it.”
“Katie,” I said, brushing her hair out of her face again. “This is just their gut reaction to the news. As they get used to the idea, they’ll begin to accept this baby; their grandchild.”
“No, they won’t. It’s not just the idea that I’m pregnant. It’s the fact that my baby is half black, and the child of a murder victim. They’re scandalized by the whole affair. They said if I don’t sign the adoption papers, they will disown me. They won’t pay for art school and will throw me out of their house. I’ll pretty much be out on the street, baby and all.”
“Oh, Katie. I’m sorry, honey.”
I thought about my own mother and father and what their reaction would have been if I were in the same situation. Certainly, they would have been upset about my predicament. But they also would have taken me in with open arms and helped me in any way they could. I wondered how Katie’s parents, who’d raised such a sweet daughter, could choke her with their intractable views. Katie, who loved Micah despite his character flaws so obvious to everyone else, was now being forced to make an impossible decision. Of course, I knew the decision the girl would make.
