by J. J. Cook
Daddy was an impressive man. He was tall, broad shouldered, lean, and fit for a sixty-something-year-old. He was tan from his frequent fishing trips. He was always going on cruises and sailing to exotic places since he and my mother had divorced.
He was dressed to the hilt in an expensive gray suit and a red tie. He even wore the matching onyx cuff links and tie tack I’d given him for his last birthday.
He knew how to make an entrance. Funny how much he suddenly reminded me of Tommy Lee.
“Daddy!” I ran and threw my arms around his neck. I was very happy to see him. If anyone could understand and make all of this go away, it was him.
“I’ll give you all a few minutes to sort yourselves out.” Detective Latoure got to her feet, taking her file with her.
Before she could leave, my father stepped forward and shook her hand. “I’m Ted Chase, president of Bank of Mobile. I’m sure there’s been some terrible mistake, ma’am.”
Detective Latoure shook his hand and smiled. “I hope for your daughter’s sake that’s true, Mr. Chase.”
I thought I heard Detective Latoure mutter, “And my sake, too,” as she walked by me and out of the room. I could’ve been mistaken about that.
Once the door was closed behind her, my father turned to Miguel. “Ted Chase. You are?”
“Miguel Alexander.” They shook hands. “Your daughter’s attorney.”
“So I heard.” My father stared at Miguel. “I think we should consider someone else, Zoe. Your mother has a good friend who is an excellent criminal lawyer.”
I glanced apologetically at Miguel. Maybe by this time he was hoping I’d find another lawyer, too. I still had confidence in him. I hoped he still felt the same about me.
“Daddy, I like Miguel. I want him to represent me.”
“I know you do, angel. I think we should consider your mother’s experience in all this. She wasn’t very happy with your choice.”
“I wasn’t happy with hers, either. He wanted me to pretend that I was having a meltdown or something. He wanted to blame the murder on me because I quit my job and bought the diner. The police detective sounds just like him. I don’t need that kind of negativity.”
Daddy glanced away. “Honey, I want to support you through this terrible time. I’m here for you, whatever you need. We’ll fight this together. If they find you guilty, we’ll make sure you never see the inside of a prison. There are several good hospitals in the state.”
I stared at my handsome father, thinking about all the time we’d spent together while I was growing up. We’d done everything from playing tennis to sailing. He was right. He’d always been there for me. Until now.
What was wrong with everyone?
“Daddy, there was a dead man in my food truck. I can’t sell my biscuit bowls because my vehicle has been impounded. People think I killed this man. Do you have any idea how I feel right now?”
He smiled. “No, pumpkin. How do you feel?”
“Angry!” I yelled. “I’m really angry. I want Miguel to be my lawyer—I don’t care what Mom says. I don’t care what you say. Can you handle that?”
“Of course.” He smiled at Miguel. “I know you’ll do a good job for my daughter.”
“Thank you for your confidence. But I can’t do anything if your daughter won’t listen to me. I told her to keep her comments to herself about what we’d said. She keeps trying to incriminate herself.”
“Sorry.” I felt really foolish. He was trying to help me. It made me so angry for people to think that I killed Terry, especially since that made me stupid enough to hide his body in my own food truck.
“I can’t represent you if you won’t listen to me.” Miguel’s very sincere dark eyes fixed on me. “You have to let me do the talking unless I tell you to speak. If you can’t do that, Zoe, I’m leaving.”
“Don’t leave. I won’t say anything else. I promise.”
“Okay. Let’s bring Detective Latoure back in. This time, stay quiet.”
“I will.” I pulled the imaginary zipper across my lips.
My father decided to stay in the interview room with us. Detective Latoure came back, this time with no folder in hand.
“We’re ready,” Miguel told her.
“I’m very happy to tell you that we’ve made an arrest in this case, Miguel. Your client is free to go. She’s no longer on our person of interest list. I’m sorry if we’ve caused you any distress, Zoe. Have a nice day.”
“Was it his partner?” I asked the detective.
“I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to discuss that matter.”
“You dragged me in here and acted like I murdered Terry. Surely I deserve to know who you’ve arrested,” I argued.
Detective Latoure took a deep breath and glanced at my father. “It will be out in the media later today anyway. I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ve taken a waitress from the area into custody. We think that she was Terry’s Bannister’s lover at one time. Her name is Delia Vann.”
SIX
“Delia?” I couldn’t believe it. “You arrested Delia?”
“She fits.” Detective Latoure shrugged. “They used to be lovers. Separated on bad terms. She has no alibi, and she was at the shopping center when the medical examiner thinks Bannister was killed.”
“What about his partner who was stealing money from him?” I demanded.
“He has an alibi. We feel sure Delia followed through on a threat she made against Bannister for keeping some of her possessions when they broke up. We have a witness who can testify to that.”
Miguel nodded. “Bannister’s partner, right?”
“Maybe. Let us handle the police work.”
“You know this waitress she’s talking about?” My father sounded like he couldn’t believe it. “Where did you meet her? Your mother was right. This is no life for you, Zoe.”
“Never mind that, Daddy.” I turned to Miguel. “Will you represent her instead of me?”
Miguel looked surprised. “You really know this woman well enough to believe she didn’t kill Terry Bannister?”
“Yes. She’s a wonderful person. Will you represent her? I know I can trust you to do a good job.”
“The down-and-out waitress with a heart of gold.” Detective Latoure snorted. “I love that fable.”
“Zoe, who’s going to pay for Miguel to represent this woman?” My father’s words implied that it wasn’t going to be him.
“If I have to, I can sell my shares in Bank of Mobile,” I bluffed, hoping he wouldn’t call me on it. That bank had been in our family for a hundred years. I hadn’t even wanted to touch those shares to get my food truck business going.
“You wouldn’t!” His face turned pale. “The bank is your family legacy, Zoe. You’d lose that for this woman?”
“If I have to. I’d rather borrow the money from you to pay Miguel. I’ll pay you back when I get the business up and running.”
“What do you know about Delia Vann?” Detective Latoure appeared intrigued.
“I know she’s had unfortunate circumstances,” I said. “And I know she’s a good person. That’s all I need to know.” I hoped they wouldn’t ask me what those circumstances were, since I didn’t know her complete history. Maybe I’d only known her a short while, but I had a sense about people. I always knew who was good and who was bad. I was usually right at the bank when they hired someone new.
It was a knack I’d inherited from Uncle Saul. The rest of the family scoffed. I knew it was true.
It also occurred to me that Delia may have been talking to me at the bus stop when the real killer was putting Terry’s body in the van. I told Miguel and Detective Latoure about my theory. Detective Latoure said she’d look into it.
“I’ll talk to her,” Miguel agreed. “No promises until then—money or not. I only represent people I think are innocent.”
“So you thought all along that I was innocent?” I took a step toward him but stopped short of hugging him. I didn’t want him to
get the wrong idea. “Thank you so much, for me, and for Delia.”
Miguel picked up his briefcase. “It’s been a pleasure.”
As he left, I turned to Detective Latoure. “When can I have my food truck back? Today is lost, but I can be ready for tomorrow.”
“I’ll check with forensics. I think they already know Bannister wasn’t killed in the food truck. The ME thinks he was stuffed inside because it was convenient.”
I know it sounds terrible, but the first thought that came to my mind was that it was going to take a boatload of disinfectant before I got behind the wheel again. I could still see Terry’s body, and smell the old tacos on him. Eww!
“I’ll give you a call,” Detective Latoure promised.
“I’ll wait here. I have nothing better to do until I get my food truck back.”
“Miss Chase. Zoe—”
“I’ll take you out for lunch,” my father offered.
Was it that late already? I looked at my watch. It was nearly noon.
“Lunch then,” I agreed. “I’ll be back right after lunch, if I haven’t heard from you by then, Detective.”
I walked out of the little interview room, glad that my part in Taco Terry’s murder was over.
I thought I heard Detective Latoure say to my father, “Your girl is very determined, Mr. Chase.”
“She’s a lot like her mother,” my father replied. “Who do you bank with, Detective?”
I saw Miguel across the crowded squad room. He was already talking to Delia. As I watched, a police officer escorted them to another tiny interview room.
Miguel was a good person, too. Instinct had told me that about him right away—just like with Ollie.
There was some sadness behind his dark eyes and calm demeanor that I thought was more than just losing his bid to be the next DA. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever know what it was that I sensed. I hoped he’d stay in my life, but it seemed doubtful. Still, a girl could dream.
I liked Miguel. I hoped he liked me, too.
We left police headquarters on Government Street and headed to Daddy’s favorite restaurant, Wintzell’s. He loved to eat shrimp and cheese grits there. I opted for the seafood au gratin. It was awe inspiring. We also splurged for some of their amazing Key lime pie.
Wintzell’s doesn’t look like much on the outside, but the interior had original wood walls and everything was there from when it opened in 1938, including old Oliver Wintzell’s sayings on the wall. Some of them I had memorized after seeing them so often, such as: “Every girl waits for the right man to come along, but in the meantime, she gets married.”
Is that what I’d almost done with Tommy Lee?
Daddy had been telling me about his last fishing trip to the Florida Keys when my mother showed up. She was wearing her tight gray suit. That meant she was there for business. My heart sank as I knew I was about to sit through another tirade.
As often happens when the two of them are in the same place at the same time, sparks flew. You know how some people are sad that their parents get divorced? I was glad. It made my life more bearable. I was just out of high school when they’d decided to split. I was as happy for me as I was for them.
I was pleasantly surprised when they didn’t want to discuss my future without Tommy Lee. He was their personal favorite—I knew it would come eventually.
Instead, even though I’d been cleared of my part in Taco Terry’s death, they still argued about my choice of lawyer. Sometimes they didn’t know when to quit.
“I checked Miguel Alexander out, by the way.” My mother stopped arguing with my father and turned to me—never a good thing. “I knew he was a loser who couldn’t make it in the DA’s office. Then I found out his wife and infant daughter were killed, with him at the wheel. He went off the deep end, as some do. Is that the kind of person you want defending your life, Zoe?”
“I didn’t know.” That’s what I’d sensed about him, the terrible sadness. The poor man. What hell had he gone through?
“How was I supposed to know?” Daddy demanded. “Zoe wanted him for her lawyer. I didn’t know the particulars.”
“Zoe doesn’t get to have everything she wants, Ted. How many times have I told you that?” She was sitting next to me in the booth when she reached over and grabbed my wineglass, draining the dregs from it. “You’ve always spoiled her. It’s easy for someone like Miguel to come along and take advantage of her.”
“Mother!” I couldn’t believe she’d say that about someone who’d experienced such a terrible tragedy. “If anything, that would make him a better attorney, as far as I’m concerned. He deserves our compassion.”
“Oh, grow up, Miss Goody Two-shoes.” She called for the waiter to bring more wine.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, I heard Tommy Lee say, “Well, look who’s here! What a surprise! I just happened to come by today for lunch. Imagine finding you all here. I had no idea.”
Tommy Lee is the worst liar in the world.
Then I realized why he was there. I’d been set up.
From the looks on my parents’ faces, I had to say they were both in on it. There were times they could get away from arguing long enough to make my life miserable. This was one of them.
Both of my parents loved Tommy Lee. I was beginning to understand why my father praised him to high heaven all the time—the two men were peas from the same pod.
My mother’s motives weren’t so clear, except that she believed he was from a good, old Mobile family, like ours. They both agreed that Tommy Lee and I belonged together.
Daddy played the game. “Why bless my soul, it’s Tommy Lee. What a surprise.”
Did I mention that my father is also a bad liar?
He slid over on his side of the booth and let Tommy Lee sit down. I was trapped against the wall with my mother on the outside. I had to hand it to them. It was a master plan, even for them.
“I think we should talk about this little tiff you and Tommy Lee are having.” My mother finished a full glass of wine and told the waiter to bring the bottle.
“Tiff?” I glared at both of them as I tried to keep my voice from going off the scale. “Tommy Lee brought another woman, his new girlfriend, to watch the police harass me last night.”
“Betty is not my new girlfriend,” Tommy Lee denied. “And I called your mother for you. Don’t I get some credit for that?”
“People make mistakes.” Daddy cleared his throat and began his gospel on couples staying together through the bad times. “We have to forgive and forget, Zoe. How will we ever be happy if we can’t make up with our loved ones?”
“You sounded pretty happy about not being with Mom anymore a few minutes ago,” I reminded him. Was it possible to crawl out by going under the table without anyone noticing?
“That’s different, honey. Your mother and I are divorced.”
“Let’s just consider that Tommy Lee and I are divorced now, too.”
“Let’s just consider that you need to get over this slight, Miss Zoe,” my mother said. “Your father and I feel the same way. You’ve uprooted yourself from your home and your career at the bank. You’ve taken up with people you normally wouldn’t even meet. You need some stability in your life.”
Tommy Lee sat there with a pathetic look on his handsome face, eyes staring into mine. He was, of course, excellently groomed in his navy blue sport coat and pale blue button-down shirt.
I knew what he was thinking. He thought we wouldn’t break up with my parents on his side.
Wrong.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. Hear me out,” Tommy Lee implored. “You know you mean everything to me.”
“I saw you with Betty last night. How do you even know her?”
“Through business contacts. We’re on LinkedIn together. Believe me, there’s nothing personal between us.”
“I saw you kiss her!”
Daddy appeared uncomfortable about that fact. My mother gave him a murderous glance that dared him to speak.<
br />
“She was only seeking comfort from me during the crisis, as a woman sometimes will,” he explained with a nervous smile. “She was saddened by your dilemma. Thank God you’ve been spared!”
It was all I could do not to lose the wonderful lunch I’d recently eaten. “You’d better come up with a better story, Tommy Lee.” I didn’t give him an inch to wiggle around. “This one isn’t cutting it.”
“What about something else?” Daddy nudged Tommy Lee with his elbow. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to show Zoe?”
“Oh, right.” Tommy Lee took out a small ring box. “I want to end all your disbelief, honey. I’m asking you to marry me.”
He looked so sure of himself sitting with the bulwark that was my parents for support. He opened the box and slid it across the table toward me.
It was a beautiful engagement ring. Big square diamond in the middle, lots of smaller diamonds around it. Nothing particularly imaginative about it, but it was really big and definitely expensive.
I closed the box and slid it back toward him. “No, thanks. Try Betty.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” My mother drained another glass of wine.
“Throw the boy a bone, pumpkin,” my father said.
“Excuse me. I have to go to the ladies’ room.” That was one sure way out.
“Do you really have to go or is this just an excuse?” My mother’s blue eyes narrowed to razor slits as she searched my face for the answer.
“I really have to go, Mom. All this excitement has been too much for me.”
She threw down her linen napkin (actually my napkin) on the table, got up with a labored sigh, and let me out of the booth.
“I’m coming with you.”
“I’m old enough to do this by myself, thanks.”
“You’ll leave before we’re finished with this conversation.” She looked accusingly into my eyes. “That’s not going to happen.”
I didn’t blink, but I did cross my heart. “I’m only going to the ladies’ room, Mother. I’ll be right back.”
She sank back down. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
