Coffee & Crime

by Anita Rodgers

  The questions ricocheted off the concrete walls of the parking structure, and it was impossible to know who asked what.

  "Scotti, did you kill George Manston?"

  "Why did they drop the charges, Scotti?

  "Did you make a deal with the D.A.?"

  "How much money did Manston leave you?"

  I said nothing — terrified I'd say the wrong thing and end up as front page news. Even after we got inside the jeep and locked the doors, they surrounded us, yelling questions and trying to film inside the car. I slouched down in my seat and covered my face with my hands. "How did they know?"

  Zelda turned the ignition and the jeep roared to life. The rumble of the engine startled the mob and they backed off a little. Zelda threw the jeep into reverse and started moving. Reporters jumped out of the way — yelling and waving fists. Zelda cackled. "That's right! Get in my way and I'll run you over. And I'm not insured."

  She raised her arm but Joe grabbed it. "Don't flip them the bird — less you want to see that on the six o'clock news."

  Zelda let her arm drop to her lap and aimed the jeep at the exit. The reporters stayed with us until she we pulled out onto Colorado Boulevard. She laughed. "Who's awesome?" Traffic was light, and Zelda zipped onto the freeway on ramp. She looked at me in the rear view mirror. "Cheer up, we lost them."

  I rubbed my forehead and groaned. "You don't get it, do you? If they know where Dan's office is, they know where the diner is too. Or they will in the next five minutes." I glanced through the back windshield for any news vans in pursuit. "I am so fucked."

  Zelda went quiet and concentrated on her driving.

  If Joe was right about the news it wouldn't wait until six o'clock. With the Internet, social media, smart phones, radio and television, the news waited for no one. I wondered how long it would be before the reporters in the parking garage uploaded a video of the ambush. And then how long it would take for the video to go viral. I didn't dare think about the narrative that would be attached to the video. "We have to go to the diner."

  Zelda flipped me a look. "What? Why?"

  I leaned over the seat. "Because I have to explain to Manny."

  Zelda waved a hand like it was nothing. "I explained it to him last night. I told him it was all a mistake and you'd be out today. And see, you're out." She shook her head. "No diner. Too risky. We're going home and locking ourselves in."

  "Bullshit," I yelled. "We're going to the diner now. Before Manny sees it on TV or hears it on the radio. Or a customer tells him. Or a reporter shows up to interview him."

  Zelda sighed and zipped across three lanes to get to the exit.

  <<>>

  We idled in Manny's parking lot afraid to get out of the jeep, but everything looked normal. No news vans. No snooping reporters. No TV helicopters circling above.

  Joe cranked down his window and stuck his head out. "Coast looks clear."

  Still we climbed out of the jeep throwing furtive glances over our shoulders — anticipating an ambush. But no one jumped from behind the trash bins or out of the bushes. I straightened up and let out a sigh. "I think we're media free."

  Zelda squinted up at the sky and frowned. "Yeah, I guess the coast is clear."

  Despite their proclamations, I couldn't get of either of them to go into the diner with me. I left them standing vigil on the sidewalk — waiting for the inevitable. But as soon as I walked through the door, I realized the trouble was inside the diner, not outside on the sidewalk. The dining room was deserted — no customers, no wait staff and no Manny. At three o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon that was a very bad sign. "Hello?"

  Manny's head appeared in the pass-through and he craned his neck. "Hello?"

  I hurried to the pass-through. "So, you are here. I thought something terrible happened." I glanced around. "Where is everybody?"

  Manny's face twisted into a sneer. "You! Get out!"

  My jaw dropped. "What?"

  The door whooshed open, bringing Zelda and Joe inside. Zelda did a little finger wave. "Hey Manny, what's shaking?"

  Manny's face was so red it looked ready to explode. "You too! Get out of my place!"

  Joe stopped and stood by the door but Zelda stomped across the dining room and sneered at Manny. "What's your problem?"

  Manny charged out of the kitchen flailing his arms at us like he was trying to shake off stray cats. "I told you, get out. I don't want this shit no more."

  "What shit?" But I knew exactly what he meant. He knew. He already knew. It was too late. "Manny, calm down."

  Manny pushed past me to the cashier stand and threw open the register drawer. He pointed to the cash drawer. "You see this? You see all the money in here? No, course you don't. Cuz there ain't no fucking money.” He slammed the drawer shut. "Nada!"

  Zelda snorted. "You accusing us of stealing your money?"

  Manny shook his fist at her. "Yeah you laugh chica. Real funny. No, you don't steal. You don't take the money. But it's the same you did anyway."

  He panted and his nostrils flared like a bull chasing a matador's cape. I'd never seen him so angry. I caught him by the arm. "You already heard, didn’t you?" I searched his eyes, but my friend Manny wasn’t in there. "Manny?"

  He shook my hand loose and backed away. "Oh I heard mamasita. Manny heard everything." He wiggled his fingers at the front door. "Those nice reporters told me the whole story."

  He started for the kitchen and I followed him. "I can explain. At least let me tell you my side of the story."

  Manny spun back to me and stuck out his arms to stop me. "No! You get away from me. No more explaining. Manny's done. I don't want you here. I don't want you in my place." He pointed at the door. "Get out. Both of you. Go."

  Zelda throbbed with anger. "We're fired?"

  Manny cursed in Spanish and shook a fist at me. "Manny don't need your bad publicity or your poison brownies either."

  Zelda charged across the dining room at him. "But we had a deal!"

  "I don't got no deal with you Zelda." He punched the air with his fist. "All deals is off." He stormed toward the kitchen. "Terminado!"

  I ran after him, yelling. "But we have an agreement. And I have two weeks. You can't call off the deal because you're pissed."

  I grabbed his shirt sleeve and he threw off my hand so hard I stumbled back against the counter. "Watch me, chica."

  But that didn’t stop me. I went after him again and cut him off at the kitchen door. "Look Manny, I know you're pissed. Me too. But this is just a big mistake. I swear, I didn't do anything wrong. They dropped the charges already because it was a mistake."

  Manny crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me.

  I chuckled nervously. "You'll see, in a couple of days this will all die down. Next week, nobody'll even remember my name. It's a little hiccup. That's all." I punched his arm

  playfully. "Come on, Manny. We're friends. Amigos, right? We've been through a lot together. Are you really going throw away a five-year friendship over this?"

  He pointed to the door. "Get out."

  I crossed my arms over my chest and mimicked him. "Make me." He bared his teeth at me but didn't speak. "You promised to sell this diner to me and that's what's going to happen. You hear me?" I crowded him. "The agreement says you can't call it off unless I fail to pay you the money or we agree to sever the agreement."

  My tough guy act didn't sway him at all and he snorted like a bull. "The deal is off. I say it's off and it's off."

  "But you can't do that."

  He sneered. "So sue me. I hear you got a lawyer already so no problemo, right?"

  I threw up my hands in surrender. "Okay, I'll give you a chance to cool off, and we'll talk later..."

  Manny smirked and shook his head. "No. No talk. It's done. I already sold it." He patted his shirt pocket. "To somebody who got the money. Not a poor waitress who's just talk, talk, talk."

  I backed up shaking my head. "No, you're lying to me."

  Manny took the ch
eck out of his pocket and waved it under my nose. "Money don't lie, chica."

  I stumbled like the floor had collapsed under my feet. "You sold my diner? To who? Who did you sell it to?" Crying, I turned to Zelda. "He sold my diner."

  "You son of a bitch!" Zelda stomped past him into the kitchen and came right back with an empty bus tray. "I'll show you, you prick!"

  Manny's eyes followed her. "Hey, what are you doing?"

  Zelda marched to the pie case and slammed it open.

  Manny started for Zelda but I stepped in front of him. "Who did you sell it to, Manny?"

  He bobbed his head to avoid my gaze. "Not your business no more, Scotti. Zelda what are you doing?"

  I stayed in his face. "The hell it isn't my business. Five years, Manny. That's nothing to you? People come here because of me." I slapped my chest. "And now I'm a piece

  of trash for you to throw out? You promised me. I trusted you."

  Manny twitched impatiently. "I don't need this trouble Scotti. You shoulda told me you didn't have the money. I trusted you and you strung me along."

  I wiped my runny nose with my sleeve. "I still have almost two weeks. I have some of the money and I can get the rest."

  Manny sneered and threw up his hands. "Promises, promises. Manny can't put your promises in the bank."

  He tried to get around me but I shadowed him. "Just give me until the deadline. If I don't have the money, then fine, I lose it. But you owe me that. After everything we've been through?"

  Manny shoved past me and knocked me against the counter again. "Zelda you stop that. What are you doing man?"

  Zelda glared at him then started chucking pies into the empty bus tray. She mocked Manny. "I don't need your poison, Scotti." Thunk went an apple pie, thunk went another and another. After a few seconds she got tired of going one pie at a time and swept several off the shelf into the tray. In sixty seconds the tray was full. "We'll take our poison with us then." She shifted the bus tray to her hip and started for the pastry case. "All of it!"

  Manny grabbed Zelda and shook her. "Stop it."

  Zelda kicked him hard in the shins. "Don't you touch me!"

  Manny howled. "You broke my leg you bitch. Why you so crazy?" He bent over and rubbed viciously at his leg. "What's the matter with you?"

  Zelda handed the full bus tray to Joe. "Hold this." Then she snatched a trash bag from under the counter and dumped trays of cookies and brownies into it. "You ungrateful son of a bitch. You sell the place out from under Scotti and what's wrong with me?" She scowled at him like he was a bug. "You're what we call a prick, in America, Manny. Ever heard the term? No? Look it up."

  Manny limped toward Zelda for a second round but I'd had enough and I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Who. Did. You. Sell. My. Diner. To?"

  Manny and Zelda went completely still.

  In a rage, I hunted for something to destroy. I swiped a sugar dispenser off the counter and smashed it to the floor and charged him. "I asked you a question! Who did you sell it to?"

  Manny paled and put out his hands to stave off my advance. "Hey Scotti, chill, man. Be cool."

  I grabbed ketchup bottles from the counter and smashed those to the floor. And cream pitchers and anything else I could get my hands on. "No! Scotti isn't going to calm down." I backed him against the counter. "I'm done with this bullshit! I've already gone to jail once, so go ahead and call the cops because I don't give a fuck anymore. But you're going to answer my question or I'm going to tear this place apart!” I poked him in the chest. "Do you get me, chico?"

  Manny twitched and stammered. "Okay, okay," he laughed nervously. "Just stop busting up my place. The girl - Lily. Your friend."

  Zelda screeched. "You sold it to Lily?"

  I fell back against the counter like he’d kicked me in the face. "Lily? Lily is my friend? Like you're my friend, Manny?" I jerked a thumb at Zelda. "The only friend I have is standing over there."

  The sight of him made me sick and I turned away. It was over. I was done with all of it. On my way to the exit I took the trash bag out of Zelda's hands and flung it around the dining room. Leaving a mess of exploded pastries on the floors, walls, tables and myself too but the dining room looked worse.

  "Oh man. Scotti! Why'd you do that?"

  Joe smiled and winked at me, then flipped the bus tray and emptied it onto the floor.

  Manny cursed in Spanish. "You crazy! All of you. You hear me, Scotti?"

  I paused at the door and shrugged. "So sue me."

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Zelda watched me pack. "You're giving up?" I stuffed tee shirts and jeans into a duffel bag, then went to the bathroom for my blow dryer. I pitched the blow dryer and my toiletries into kit bag. Zelda hovered at the bathroom door. "Are you going to answer me?"

  I checked the room for anything else I might need then zipped up my case. "I'm done. End of story. Nothing more to say." I waited for her to back up so I could exit the bathroom. Walking into my bedroom I said, "Where's Boomer?"

  Zelda stood at the door. "Scotti, we can still do this."

  Boomer ran into the bedroom and leapt up on the bed — wiggly waggly as always. "You want to go in the car? You want to go for a ride?" Boomer yapped and chased his stub in glee. "Okay, road trip it is." I jammed the kit bag into the duffel and zipped it shut. Then I slung my bag over my shoulder, grabbed Boomer with one hand and the duffel with the other. "Excuse me."

  Zelda blocked my exit. "You can't give up."

  "No diner. Nothing to give up, it's all gone." I nudged past her out of the bedroom.

  "What's the point?"

  Zelda followed me. "Uh, $100,000? Is that enough of a point for you?"

  I turned back to her and shook my head. She just didn't get it. "Zee, it could be a hundred million dollars and it wouldn't matter. I don't need it anymore."

  Zelda wouldn't give up and tugged on my duffel to stop me. "Manny's isn't the only place in the world. We'll find another diner. A better one."

  I wrestled the duffel away from her. "You don’t get it — that was my diner. I don't want another place. I don't want any place."

  Zelda stamped her foot. "But we're so close. We don't want to give up."

  I shrugged. "You don't have to give up. Knock yourself out. Maybe you'll figure out who killed George and then maybe Maggie Manston will pay you the reward. Maybe she won't. You never know, right?"

  Zelda drew back. "Ouch."

  Feeling like a shit, I blew out a sigh. "Zee, I'm not trying to hurt you. I just can't play this game anymore. They took the one thing that I wanted. I lost. They won. It's just over." I turned for the door. "I don’t know how else to say."

  Zelda followed. "Where are you going?"

  "Vegas? Pacoima? I don't know." I opened the door. "I just want to be alone."

  "But you're coming back, right?"

  I kept my back to her because I didn't want her to change my mind. For once, I wanted to be the only one deciding my fate. "The rent and the utilities are paid, the fridge is stocked and there's cash in the bottom desk drawer if you need it."

  Zelda came up behind me and threw her arms around me. Quietly I said, "I hope you do get the money if only to spite Maggie Manston. Bye Zee."

  <<>>

  For the first hour of the drive, I cried, punched the dashboard and screamed — then I felt better. Calmer. My mind went still and my stomach wasn’t trying to eat itself. It was like I'd finally broken out of prison after years in a box. I had nowhere to go and no place to be. No agreements to keep, no expectations to live up to, no promises to honor, I was free.

  The diner was Lily's headache now. Good or bad, that burden was no longer mine — and neither were the fears and anxieties connected to it. I wondered if George's death had been a wake up call meant to shake me loose from a childhood dream that no longer made sense. The dream of having my own place had helped me survive childhood — but maybe that was all it was ever meant to do. Life without the diner wa
s new and strange but not terrifying. I'd survive. I'd find a new dream. And strangely, I was okay with that.

  Our aimless wandering eventually dumped us out at Pacific Coast Highway. I buzzed down the windows and breathed in the cold briny air. The spin of tires against the pavement and the drone of the ocean serenaded us as we sped toward Malibu. At the open window, Boomer yapped at the crashing waves that churned black in the pale moonlight. It was new, this unanchored life of mine and I think I liked it . And we drove until my stomach growled and Boomer farted.

  We found a beach-front shopping center about a mile up the road. The main attraction of the center was a seafood restaurant called the Cove Seaside Tavern — as an afterthought, they threw in an all-night drug store, a mini-mart, and a burger stand. The Cove was known for its tasty seafood and pricy menu, and judging by the cars in the lot, the Malibu trade was in high attendance.