Zelda sneered. "Oh, you have something better to do? Worried you'll miss your date with Teddy boy?"
I shook my head and got to my feet. "Knock off the attitude, Zee. I like Ted and you're going to have to accept that fact. I don't expect you to like him but I do expect you to be civil." I fisted my itchy eyes. "Now, I want to open this damn briefcase, so I'm going to check the Internet for tips." I walked to the door. "Feel free to pout or help me, your choice."
Zelda grumbled but followed me into my office.
About an hour into our search, we found a video that provided a workable method. One that wouldn't damage the case but would get it open. The method was simple and easier than I expected; just apply light pressure on the release button and spin the number wheels, one at a time, until it set. When the last number clicked into place, the latches popped like magic. Now, we had only to lift the lid to see what lie inside. I stared, unable to take the step.
Zelda cranked her hand — her face was as anxious as I was nauseous. "Open it already."
I slid it across the countertop to her. "You open it."
She pushed it back to me. "George gave it to you. You open it."
"Fine," I huffed and flung the lid open.
Zelda's face fell at the sight of the few items inside the case. "That's it?" Inside was a phone, an small appointment calendar, a flash-drive and a set of keys. Sticking out of a compartment in the lid was an envelope with my name written on it, in George's scrawl. I held the envelope in my hands and stared at it. Zelda came to my side of the butcher-block and peered over my shoulder. "It's easier to read if you open it."
I nudged her away and peeled back the flap with my fingernails. "Quit crowding me." Inside was a one-page letter from George:
Dear Scotti,
If you're reading this then chances are, you've opened the briefcase because I'm no longer here.
Due to certain confidences I can't explain many things to you that I wish I could share. The items in this case may help you to put the pieces together. I hope so, because I won't be there to do it myself. So now, unfortunately it falls to you.
You're a bright woman and I'm confident that your sharp intuitive mind will lead you to the right conclusions.
I'm sorry that our plans never came to fruition - I was looking forward to becoming a born again foodie and helping you realize your goals. No matter where I am, please know that I always believed in you, and never give up, Scotti.
Keep your chin up and look for the silver lining when all else fails.
Your friend,
George
Zelda's breath was warm on the back of my neck and made me shudder. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
I reread the letter several times and shook my head. "No fucking idea." But in truth, I felt George had given me a mission — if only I knew what it was.
George loved puns and riddles and I thought that if I came back to the letter later with fresh eyes, I'd see the hidden clues tucked into his words because I sure couldn't see them then. I shrugged, put the letter back in its envelope and set it aside. Then turned my attention to the other items in the case. "Let's go through the rest of these things and see if the letter is connected to one of them."
I pulled out the items and placed them on the butcher-block. But a connection to the letter and these ordinary, everyday items wasn't apparent. The phone was a pay as you go type and was locked. The flash-drive contained files but we couldn't open them. Both required a password, so we tried words from George's letter but got nowhere. We moved onto the appointment calendar, which only had a few entries and couldn't have been his everyday calendar. The keys were varied in shape and size. Some were obviously house or office keys, but a few were for smaller locks like those on filing cabinets and desk drawers. Included on the key ring was a small scanner card, like the type used for parking garages.
I perked up and jangled the key ring. "These are George's office keys."
Zelda looked up from the appointment calendar. "Why do we care?"
"We care because that means we can get into George's office."
Zelda closed the appointment calendar and snatched the keys out of my hand. She studied the ring, one key at a time. "Excellent deduction Sherlock."
Boomer barked and I glanced down at the little guy, patiently waiting by his empty bowl. "Dinner time already?" He wagged his stub. I slid off my stool to feed him then smacked my forehead. "What time is it?"
"Six-thirty, why?"
"I've got a date!"
Zelda snickered. "With who? Your not-boyfriend?"
Chapter Eighteen
I frowned at my reflection in the living room mirror. The dress was too pink and the skirt was too full. With my curly blonde hair piled on top of my head, I looked like a throwback to Shirley Temple. "How do I look?"
Zelda looked at me with a critical eye. "For what, a hot date?"
"It's not a hot date."
"Then you look all right."
I turned back to the mirror and tugged at my sleeves. "Not too much pink?"
Zelda shrugged. "How do I know? I don't believe in color." It was true, Zelda only wore black and white and the occasional red scarf. The gate buzzer sounded and it startled me so much I had to catch myself from toppling in my heels. Zelda gave me a smug look and chuckled. "You might want to rethink the shoes."
I ignored her, mini-stepped to the panel and pushed the gate button. Headlights flashed through the living room windows. "He's here." I looked hopefully at Zelda. "Seriously, I look okay?"
"You kids have a good time."
I pouted. “Come on, Zee.”
She chuckled and boinged one of my curls. "Relax, you look fine, Barbie."
A cheerful rap at the door made me jump, then I opened it. Ted looked good enough to eat — black jeans, gray tee shirt topped with a black leather jacket and cowboy boots to finish the look.
His face lit up when he saw me and he bussed my cheek with his warm, soft lips. "You look great."
We got lost in each other’s eyes until Zelda cleared her throat and broke the spell. She held out my raincoat and bag. "You kids have a good time."
Ted took the coat and helped me into it, then offered his arm. "Shall we?"
<<>>
We went to The Castaway in Burbank. The restaurant is perched high in the hills and has a spectacular view; especially at night when L.A. lights up like a Christmas tree. It was too cold and wet for outside dining but we got a quiet booth by the windows. I felt like a princess, sitting in a beautiful restaurant, dining on luxurious food and fine wine with a handsome man sitting across from me. I sipped my wine and ogled the place. "This is a long way from chili dogs in the rain."
"It's a special occasion."
"It is?"
"Yes ma'am. Our first official date." He clinked his glass against mine. "To firsts, they're the best."
That was a toast I could drink to.
Halfway through the meal, the conversation lulled and I started to fidget. I'm not good at small talk and I didn't want to talk about my crazy life. That was something that would have to be eased into — and slowly. I remembered an article in Cosmo that said if you want to make a good impression, getting the other person to talk about themselves is a surefire tactic.
"So, where did you grow up?"
"Everywhere. My dad was in the Army."
All I knew about the military was that they wore uniforms and had access to a vast array of weapons. "Oh. Was that hard on you? You must have moved around a lot when you were a kid."
He shrugged. "It had its moments, but I turned out okay."
A sadness in his eyes told me it wasn't his favorite subject but I pressed on anyway. "Were you in the Army too?"
Ted nodded, called the waiter over and ordered coffee. When the waiter scurried away, he turned back to me. "Yeah, I joined too." His body tensed but his expression was neutral.
I tilted my head. "Would you rather not talk about this?"
He frowned and pur
sed his lips. "Not much to tell. I enlisted after 911, served two tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq, and managed to get back home in one piece." He tried too hard to sound casual, the way people do when they don’t want to talk about something awful. He shrugged. "End of story."
Tears rose in my eyes and I put my hand over his. "You lost friends?" He nodded and looked at the beautiful view below. I squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry."
Ted laced his fingers through mine and held on tight. His voice low and husky he said, "Me too." He turned his eyes back to mine and they'd gone from green to slate. “It kinda sucks, you know?”
My heart ached for him even though I didn't know the story. But I could tell it was a sad, maybe even tragic one. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up. Let's talk about something else."
He raised my hand to his lips, kissed it, then released it. "You're a sweet girl."
The waiter appeared with the coffee and as he served, gave us a run-down of the dessert menu. We ordered chocolate soufflé and after warning us of a twenty-minute wait, he left us in peace.
Ted grinned and rolled his eyes. "I thought he'd never leave."
We shared a laugh then Ted became solemn again. "Look Scotti, I don't want you to worry that I'm some kind of a war-torn vet who needs to be pasted back together. It was rough but you know that going in. I made my transition back into civilian life and I've handled my issues. But, I can't tell you much about my service because my missions were need to know. Do you understand?"
I nodded but wasn't sure I did understand. I guessed that he was on a special ops team or something that required him to keep his activities in the war confidential and left it at that. "Okay."
Ted smiled and seemed relieved not to have to explain himself. "How about you? Where did you grow up?"
Now it was my turn to squirm. "Here, there and everywhere."
He chuckled. "Don't tell me you were a military brat too?"
I shook my head. "Nope, I was a foster brat."
He winced. "Tough deal, huh?"
I shrugged. "Well, once you've been in twenty foster homes, there's not much that can touch you." I gave him a toothless smile and like him didn't elaborate.
He shook his head and chuckled. "Are we good at small talk or what?"
"Maybe we're not small talk kind of people?" I patted his hand. "It's okay, it was a long time ago and we made it through. End of story."
"Zelda too?"
"Yep."
He nodded. "That explains a lot of things." He took my hand in both of his. "She's very protective of you."
I pulled my hand away and played with the napkin in my lap. "And I of her. Zelda is the closest thing I have to family."
I could see Ted wanted to know more but the waiter arrived with the soufflé and it was a welcomed distraction. The delicious chocolate convection kicked in our endorphins and sent us into much lighter conversational topics. Nothing like caffeine, sugar and chocolate to make you feel like life is good.
He licked chocolate gooey goodness from his spoon. "How's it going with the diner? Moving forward?"
I concentrated on my soufflé. "It's a few weeks yet before I take possession but I think we're on track."
Ted leaned back in his chair, stretched his long legs, and his cowboy-booted feet peeked out from under the table. "Great, so then you ironed out that wrinkle?"
"Uh...well still working on that..." I stared into my coffee cup, then chanced a look at him.
He rested his chin on his hand and studied me. "I can't tell if you're being coy or if you're afraid to tell me something."
I reared back. "Why would I be afraid to tell you anything?"
He chuckled. "People try to make a good impression on first dates. But they usually screw it up."
"I'm not afraid to tell you anything. But my life isn't as conventional as most people's are." I waved a hand and chuckled. "And besides, men don't really want to know your problems. Outside of flat tires and opening pickle jars."
Ted gaped and acted like he was offended. "Oh, so men don't want to know the real woman? They prefer a fantasy instead?" He leaned forward and stared me down. "Maybe you've just met the wrong kind of men."
I snorted. "There's no maybe about it. The wrong kind of men are my specialty." I slapped my hand over my mouth but the words couldn't be taken back. "Oh crap."
But rather than looking for the exit, Ted looked concerned. "Had your heart broken a few times?"
I looked away. "Hasn't everybody?"
He reached across the table and gently turned my face so I'd look at him. "Me too. Hell, I even got a Dear John letter when I was overseas."
"You did?"
"Yup. And she ended up with my best friend."
I gaped. “Get out.”
He held up three fingers like a Boy Scout. "True story. And she never gave me back the ring."
"That bitch!"
Ted laughed. "You got that right." He stared into my eyes. "You have the prettiest blue eyes I've ever seen. I could get lost in there and wouldn't mind one bit."
I gulped and choked on my own saliva. Nothing more romantic than coughing and gagging into the face of the man who just said he's hot for you.
Ted jumped out of his chair and rushed to my side. "Are you okay?"
When I tried to speak I only coughed harder. Tears sprung to my eyes and dripped mascara down my face. And it stung like a bitch.
With one hand, Ted took me by the wrists and raised my arms over my head and with the other, he stroked my back. It worked. I stopped coughing and took a breath. "How's that for a first impression?" I croaked and reached for my water glass. "Impressive, right?"
Ted kissed the top of my head, smiled, and returned to his seat. "You sure you're okay?"
With a napkin I dabbed at the runny mascara oozing from my eyes. "Aside from being mortified, I'm just swell."
Ted signaled for the waiter. "Time for a change of scenery?"
A light rain fell as we pulled out of the parking lot. I felt safe and snug in the big car that towered over all the other vehicles on the road. "Nice car."
Ted patted the console between our seats. "She's a beauty, huh?"
"And big too."
Ted hunched a shoulder. "Smaller than a Humvee."
"Not by much."
Ted kept his eyes on the road but grinned. "Nothing like big American car."
I wagged my finger at him. "How politically incorrect of you."
He shot me a sidelong glance. "Don't tell me you're a tree hugger?"
I shrugged. "I like trees. I like flowers. I like all sorts of things. But I'm not into that political stuff."
"So, you're politically neutral?"
"Let's just say that I know from personal experience how effective government solutions are."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning if there's a way to screw something up, you can count on them to do it." I grinned at him. "It's one of the few things you can rely on in life."
Having been in the Army for six years, Ted agreed and laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes. After that, the first date jitters disappeared and we talked about everything from peanut butter pie to basic training. The more he made me laugh, the more he worked to make me laugh again. Nothing sexier than a man who likes to make you giggle.
When Ted slowed the vehicle, I noticed we'd been driving up Angeles Crest Highway. He flipped his right signal and pulled into a turnout that faced the city skyline. "Great view, huh?" He turned off the engine and rolled back his seat. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it. Ted leaned over, slung his arm around the back of my seat and said, "You never answered my question."
I tilted my head up and looked into his eyes. "What question?"
"Why are you avoiding the subject of the diner?"
I frowned. "The diner? You drove me up here to ask about the diner?"
He moved back to his side of the car and put his back against the driver door. "Oh no, you're not going to do that again."
<
br /> "Do what?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Deflect. You're adept at changing the subject."
I held his gaze. "Are you always this persistent? I thought you were a transportation guy, not a detective."
He smiled coyly. "I know my way around an interrogation.” The certainty in his eyes told me he wasn't kidding. And I remembered his needs to know comment about his military missions.
Coffee & Crime Page 11
