by Sarah Hualde
Chapter 37
KAT SPLASHED COFFEE on her sweater sleeve and Maude’s pristine countertop. A knock at the front door after 2 a.m. was never a healthy omen. Maude hurried with a hopeful hop to her step. The entire room knew it wasn’t Scooby. But they all wished it was him.
Maude swung the door wide, upon seeing Joan standing in the rain. “What’s wrong?” she asked, while she shoved the young woman into the warmth of her living room. Joan dripped over the entryway tile.
She outstretched her hand and passed Maude a cell phone. “We scooped up your phone by mistake. You got several texts in the last few minutes. From Dave Pines. I only know that because I had to look at the screen to figure out where we got the phone.”
Maude waved off the concern in Joan’s voice. “Not a problem. Dave is our bartender.” Maude swiped her phone and unlocked the screen. “Six messages,” she said. “I guess he means business.”
Lydia circled around to Maude’s left. She embraced her drenched daughter. “At least three messages came through on the walk from our townhouse to yours,” Joan said.
Maude’s eyes went from curious to wild with each new message. She staggered and fell back onto the couch.
“What's wrong?” Kat and Lydia hurried to Maude.
“He says he’s found Scooby.” Maude’s voice lacked energy and excitement.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it,” Lydia said.
“I’m not sure. He said he’s at Con Fuego. And that Scooby’s gone crazy.” Maude stood up just as quickly as she sat. Frantically, she searched around her house. She tossed on a scarf, flinging it around her neck and smacking herself in the face. When she went to slide her feet into a second pair of shoes, Lydia grabbed her arm.
“Take a deep breath, Maude,” Lydia said. “We don’t know anything yet. You won’t do Scooby any good if you’re half-crazed. Calm down.”
Maude’s eyes wouldn’t settle. She couldn’t contain her trembling. Kat situated herself near the kitchen table. “Joan,” she said. Joan came over to her. “Put this on your mom and go.” She tossed Lydia’s coat to Joan. “Don’t forget Ivy’s phone.”
Lydia smiled at Kat. As soon as she was sufficiently dressed for the weather and Maude was settled into her rain gear, Lydia and Maude rushed to Con Fuego.
Unspoken patterns confirmed, with a wink, meant Kat would stay at home base until Santi woke and was ready to leave. Kat would then inform Flora and the men would come to the rescue if one was needed. Joan would give Ivy her cell phone, and the girls would relay updates to anyone who wanted to hear. It took only a few moments, and the mama bears charged out into the rain.
LYDIA PACED MAUDE. She didn’t want the woman to arrive completely exhausted. Strength, and possibly speed, would be necessary to get through the morning. Whether Scooby was hurt or Scooby was sane was still to be seen. Either way, he would definitely need Maude to remain stable.
They arrived at Con Fuego in less than ten minutes. A swift peek through the front glass did little but create more fog and hinder their searching. Lydia tugged Maude toward the back of the building. “Let’s go through the delivery door,” she said. Maude followed.
“I don’t understand. This is the second time he’s come to the restaurant and not turned toward home. When did Scooby stop trusting me and Santi?” Maude asked.
Lydia whispered and hoped Maude would pick up the cue. She was being far too loud. Anything might await them inside Con Fuego. Anything and anyone.
Chapter 38
JOAN SQUEEZED THROUGH the unlocked front door to the townhouse. Ivy paced on the patio, clapping her palms against her biceps to stay warm. Since noticing the phone and the text something had needled at Ivy’s mind. She couldn’t place it and couldn’t calm it down. Joan went straight to her side.
“Mom’s taken off with Maude,” Joan said.
Ivy laughed quietly. “Of course she has. That’s how she rolls.”
Joan surveyed Ivy. “What’s wrong? You look... disturbed. For lack of a better word.”
Again Ivy let a snarky laugh spurt from her lips. “I am. But I don’t know why.”
Joan handed Ivy a cup of stolen hot coffee. Kat had dished it up for her from Maude’s house to warm her rain-soaked skin. Joan snagged a second cup for Ivy.
“You are awesome!” Ivy gratefully took the mug and swallowed a slug of the hot coffee. She sighed, causing a caffeinated cloud of steam to waft from her mouth.
“What are we supposed to do now? Just wait?” Joan asked.
Ivy nodded. “Sort of. We don’t know when we’ll be needed. We might have some pivotal clue Lydia uses to trap the villain. Or we might just be coffee central. You never can tell.”
Ivy reminded Joan of the last time they’d been enveloped in a mystery. Ivy had needed to outrace a rage monster to save Grant until Lydia charged over the angry man with her smart car.
“What did Dave want?” Ivy said as she continued to sip her hot coffee before the rainy morning could drain its warmth.
“He didn’t say really. Maude didn’t read us his texts. She just said Dave was with Scooby and Scooby was acting strange.”
Joan took up residence in her original chair on the patio. She needed a warm shower to get her body to stop shivering. But she didn’t want to wake the house. Maybe she would sneak into her dad’s room and use the shower in the master suite.
“Do you know if my dad is back from visiting with Charles and Calvin?” Joan asked.
“I haven’t seen him. But I thought he came home while we were at Maude’s.”
LYDIA PLACED HER PALMS on Maude’s shoulders and stood between her and the door. “Before we go inside, I need you to listen to me.”
Maude shivered but set her eyes on Lydia’s face. All her body wanted to shoot through the door and confront Scooby. But she paused to hear Lydia’s calmer voice speak reason.
“Did you text Dave and tell him you were on the way?”
Maude shook her head. “Should I?”
“Not yet,” Lydia said. “Let’s think for a moment. Why is Dave at the restaurant? Would Scooby have called him for help? How did either of them get inside the restaurant?”
Maude answered the last question first. “Scooby has a key and the code. Dave must have met him here.”
“Do you think we should call the police?” Lydia asked. Personally, she wouldn’t call the police yet. But she wasn’t Maude. This was Maude’s family. She would do her best to play things as Maude would.
“Not yet,” Maude said. “I will as soon as I get Scooby to calm down. I want to give him a moment to explain.”
Lydia nodded and said a silent prayer as Maude reached for the handle to the backdoor. “Why don’t you hang back a bit?” Maude searched Lydia’s face for a twinkle of understanding. “I don’t want to freak Scooby out.”
“Got it,” Lydia said. She pulled her cell from her pocket and slid the volume to vibrate only. She didn’t bother telling Maude to do the same. The frazzled woman had thrown her phone on her couch cushions when she flipped her scarf around her neck. Lydia hadn’t told Maude, at the time, since the woman was in such a rush to get to her foster son.
“I’ll stay right here for a moment. You go ahead. But be careful.”Maude used her least shaky hand to squeeze Lydia’s in a gesture of gratitude and camaraderie. She hadn’t paused in her hustle to wake Santi. Maude regretted it. She’d call him later.“Talk loudly, so I can hear what’s happening from here?” Maude took one heavy step through the swinging kitchen doors.
Lydia slid across the wall, out of sight of the kitchen. She rounded to the edge of the hallway and caught a reflection of the kitchen. A mirror, strategically placed between the restroom doors, gave Lydia a nearly perfect view of the windows on the kitchen doors.
Maude stood beside Dave, the bartender. Her face was flushed with shock.
WHEN THE WIND HIT THE patio, Joan and Ivy hurried inside. There wasn’t a dry place to hunker down. “Let’s go upstairs,” Joan said. “I can
shower and change into something warm.”
“Won’t we wake up your dad?”
Joan nodded. “Maybe. But he’ll want to know what mom is up to anyway.” Ivy looked nervous. “Don’t worry,” Joan said. “Dad sleeps in sweats and a tank top.” Ivy blushed. She hadn’t been thinking about that.
Joan and Ivy tiptoed halfway up the stairs. Ivy tugged on Joan’s sweatshirt sleeve. “I forgot the monitor,” she said. “I’ll get it and come back.”
Joan gave her a silent thumbs up and mouthed the word hurry, as Ivy spun around to brave the dark downstairs.
LYDIA RESTED HER TIRED body against the wall. She couldn’t believe how worn out she was. Even with her afternoon nap, she was exhausted. She had such high hopes for the weekend. In seven hours, they were supposed to be packed up and heading home.
Now that Maude had Scooby, Lydia wasn’t sure there was anything more she could do to help him. Lydia didn’t believe Scooby was guilty, but it would take a detailed investigation to prove him innocent. The police would be better suited to serve the Santiago family than Lydia.
She quieted her breathing to listen as Maude spoke with Dave. “You didn’t have to do that!” Maude’s voice sputtered with confusion. Lydia squinted at the reflection but couldn’t see what Maude was talking about.
“He was coming after me,” Dave said. “It was just a gut reaction. But I did call you, as soon as I got Scooby contained.”
Maude ran out of the window’s frame. Dave stood, watching her with emotionless eyes. “What made you come down here?” Maude asked.
Dave dug his hands into his pockets. “I got a call from Stefan. He said someone had broken into the restaurant.”
Lydia blinked. She didn’t think Maude had told Stefan. How had Stefan known? Why would Stefan inform Dave? Lydia flashed through the drama in her mind. Stefan wasn’t as tall or thin as Scooby. So there was no way he had been the man who assaulted Mr. Sky.
“Did Scooby let you in? Do you know why Scooby was here? Why didn’t he just come home?” Maude asked.
Dave shrugged anxiously. “He said something about the police and having to get out of town.” Maude didn’t walk back into view. Her voice bounced around the stainless steel kitchen. “Maude, I don’t know how to tell you this. But I think he came to steal the petty cash from the office and run.”
Lydia felt herself flinch at the accusation. Scooby had stayed with the Santiago’s the night of the murder. There at Con Fuego, after the police searched and scoured everything, they were told to take the petty cash home and keep it in a safe there until the restaurant opened. Scooby would have known that. He wouldn’t have had to come down to the restaurant to get it. He would have run with it in the first place.
In the mirror, Lydia watched Dave pace- at the expedite station. He knelt at the end of the counters and came back up, holding an alcohol bottle.
“I wouldn’t drink that, Dave,” Maude said. “We’re going to clean the whole place out and start over. There’s no telling what’s been contaminated.”
Dave smirked. “I’m sure it’s fine. You and Santi are just scared. Though I don’t get why. From what I heard, the woman who died had plenty of enemies. She was the only intended victim. That’s what the cops think, right?”
“Yes, but still.”
Lydia watched on as Dave ignored Maude’s common sense paranoia and helped himself to a glass. He poured it a quarter of the way full and shot it back. From her hiding spot, Lydia could hear the tumbler clink against the countertop.
Chapter 39
WHEN IVY TRIPPED OVER her own tired feet, she barely caught herself on the dining room table. The only response, to her sudden descent, was the sound of Thaddeus Miller turning onto his side on the pull-out sofa bed.
Ivy’s palm came down hard on the board game sitting in play mode on the table. The skinny end of a pawn stabbed at her skin. She bit her lip to avoid screeching.
It didn’t feel like the token had broken the skin, but Ivy clenched her fist around the game piece just in case.
Joan met her at the master suite’s door. “What was that,” she whispered.
“I fell,” Ivy said.
“Dad’s not here,” Joan said. “Come on in.”
Ivy set the monitor on a bedside table. It crackled with static and went back to its happy placid buzz. She scurried to the bathroom and flipped on the light. Joan followed close behind her, concerned for her friend. Instinctively Joan switched on the cold water tap. She gave Ivy space to rest her injured hand in the basin.
Ivy slowly opened her hand. The forming bruise pulled and tugged as her fingers unfurled. A little green pawn clinked its way down the sink and rested precariously over the drain.
Joan snatched it before it could travel any further south. “Oh, Eden’s going to be so mad at you,” Joan teased Ivy.
Eden had taunted every player with the fact that she had discovered the villain of the game. She was making her way to the reveal room when her father declared it was time for bed. Now, Ivy had smashed the board and been superficially impaled by Mr. Green. Ivy and Joan giggled. Eden would be livid.
CON FUEGO’S SHADOWY corners prickled Lydia’s nerves. She inched closer to the swinging kitchen door to get a better angle on the mirror. Peering into the reflection, she watched Dave take another drink. Maude ignored him.
Lydia wondered if this was an all the time thing. Did Dave normally take free drinks whenever wanted? Lydia doubted it. Sure, Maude and Santi wanted the Con Fuego staff to be a family, but doling out free alcohol didn’t seem their style.
After watching Dave wince from his drink’s after burn, Lydia searched for Maude, who was kneeling on the floor. Next to her, tied loosely to a metal kitchen stool, was Scooby. Lydia leaned closer to the mirror only to have her mom bun obstruct her view. Quietly she maneuvered to a better angle.
Maude rested one hand on Scooby’s knee and the other on Scooby’s forehead. She oscillated between petting him and checking on him. Scooby’s eyes were shut, and his mouth was crooked. His odd position, other than being tied up, reminded Lydia of Joan’s battles with asthma.
Mama Bear Lydia would prop her daughter against her chest, as Joan was propped up on the chair. Then, after a steam treatment and a lot of prayers, Joan would drift off to sleep with her mouth wide open as Lydia held her upright.
Maude was holding Scooby in the same fashion. She tended to him gently. Maude didn’t face Dave. “Start at the beginning,” she said in an abnormally flat tone. “How did you and Scooby end up here, like this?”
Dave chuckled. He ran his hands along with his hair. Lydia’s nose crinkled involuntarily, imagining his body heat-releasing his Maxx Body Spray. “I was just walking by.”
“At three in the morning?” Lydia applauded Maude’s direct questioning. However, by his reddening reflection, Dave did not appreciate it.
“I couldn’t sleep. Is that okay with you?”
Maude turned to face Dave. She examined his expression in light of his hostile tone. “How much have you been drinking?” Dave rolled his eyes.
“Maude,” Dave groaned, “does it really matter? I’m trying to explain how I figured out your super special roommate is actually a lunatic.”
Chapter 40
THE MEAT OF IVY’S PALM was already red and flushing toward purple. She’d come down hard on the game. If she moved her hand too quickly or bumped it without thinking, pain electrified her arm all the way up to her collarbone. She sat on the edge of the master bed with a cool rag resting over the damage.
Joan borrowed the only pair of pajamas folded in her father’s suitcase. She disappeared into the bathroom. Steam billowed under the door and into the master suite as she showered off the rain.
Ivy wanted to lie down. Her eyes were heavy. After her trip into the dining room table, her jostled body wanted to sleep more than ever. She was afraid to relent to the call of her dreams. Instead, using her good hand, she rested her cell phone on her leg and scrolled through her picture
s. It was a brainless way to keep her eyes open.
DAVE RANTED. “WHY DOES it matter? I’m a grown man. And you are not my mother.”
His choice of words surprised Lydia. Was his animosity for Scooby spurred on by Maude's care for the young man and not his place in the kitchen?
Maude took off her jacket and secured it around Scooby’s shoulders, before approaching Dave. “I’m only asking,” she said.
“Sure you are. Only asking.” Dave used off-putting air quotes as his jab of choice. Maude leaned against the prep counter and looked Dave over. The attention calmed the intoxicated man. “You ran in here like a martyr and only checked on him.” Dave sneered toward Scooby. “He’s your favorite. Apparently, he’s everyone’s favorite. You didn’t even ask if I was okay.”
“You’re right, Dave. I apologize. How are you? Are you hurt?” Maude’s demeanor and tone softened. She glowed with motherly confidence and comfort. Her eyes trembled with encouragement and concern. Lydia had to wonder if Maude had often encountered erratic personalities before. Perhaps, she just knew how to work one over on Dave.
Dave’s shoulders relaxed. His bottom lip quivered. He sucked up his pouty lip and grinned sheepishly. “I think I’m okay.”
“So, Dave,” Maude said, using a lilting lullaby cadence to say the bartender’s name. “Will you please explain what happened here?”
Dave nodded like a little boy caught in the act of candy theft. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk. I saw the police pass the building. And I got a creepy feeling. So I went to the back door to see if anyone was here. It was open, and I went inside.”
“Makes sense,” Maude said. “Did you call the police?”
Dave shook his head. “Should I?”
“Maybe after we talk. Continue.”
