Fry Another Day

by J. J. Cook

  During the day, these areas were populated with snack food vendors and antique dealers trying to make a quick buck from the cruise ship passengers getting on and off the big ships.

  I had brought the Biscuit Bowl down here a few times, but the money wasn’t as good here as it was by police headquarters, the courthouse, and other areas farther into the business district of the city.

  “It’s dark as blackstrap molasses down here.” Cole squinted into the blackness. He had his window open as we cruised slowly by the warehouses and port offices.

  “If you were going to dump a car”—I swallowed hard on the word dump—“where would you do it?”

  He thought about it a few minutes before answering. “I’d take it down near the cruise ship berths. People work down there twenty-four-seven now with the ships going in and out all the time. Who’d notice another car?”

  “And a dead body?” My voice trembled as I asked.

  He shrugged. “The bay. That’s always been the best place to get rid of someone.”

  I pulled myself together and assured myself that Miguel wasn’t dead. We needed to find his car, and that would lead us to him.

  “Okay. Let’s check out those parking areas.”

  Cole was right about a lot of cars being parked down there. It was impossible to simply scan the parking lots and decide if a black Mercedes was there. We had to drive slowly between the rows of vehicles and check each one.

  It was taking forever, and I was getting impatient. It had already been an hour since we’d split up. Anything could happen in an hour.

  At least there were streetlights. Their weird orange glow made everything look like something out of a horror movie. At each turn, I looked for zombies or some other supernatural creatures.

  I could tell Cole was uncomfortable, too, despite his nonchalant demeanor. He slowly closed his window and peered out from behind its meager protection.

  “Look there!” I pointed to a black Mercedes. “I think that could be Miguel’s car!”

  Cole pulled over close to it, slowly and carefully. I compared the license plate—there were no other distinguishing marks—and knew that it was the right one.

  “We should call everyone,” he said. “We shouldn’t try to do this alone, Zoe.”

  “But what if he needs us before everyone else can get here?” I was already getting out of the car.

  “Okay. I’ll call Saul. He can call everyone else. At least wait for me.”

  I ran toward the Mercedes.

  The car was locked. I wasn’t sure how we were going to get inside it. I looked at the trunk. How many times had I seen dead bodies stuffed in trunks in the movies and on TV?

  “Do you think the tire iron can open the trunk?” I asked Cole when he finally caught up.

  He was glancing around the parking lot with a baleful eye. “Probably. Yes. But your Miguel won’t like it if we pry it open. Best to wait for the cops.”

  “Give me the tire iron. I’ll open it.”

  He argued with me for a few minutes, but it was halfhearted. He didn’t want to use the tire iron on the trunk, but he really didn’t care if I did it. He finally handed it to me and stood back.

  Before I could use it, Cole’s cell phone rang. He answered it in a low tone and then handed it to me.

  It was Ollie. “If you find the car, I saw Miguel take a key out of a magnetic case once when he was representing me. It’s next to the front driver’s side, under the car.”

  I gave the tire iron, and the phone, back to Cole. I felt a little out of the loop—I didn’t know Miguel’s home address or that he kept a key under his car.

  I had to remind myself that we were just starting our relationship. I’d learn these things as we went along. He knew so much more about me than I knew about him. It was the basic difference in our personalities. If you knew me for five minutes, you knew everything about me. Miguel was harder to know.

  All these stupid things raced through my mind as I used my hand to search for the key under the car. The orange lights above us made me feel like I was in a bad science fiction movie.

  The parking lot was gritty and wet under my knees. The smell of the bay was strong, mixed with the smell of the fuel they used for the ships. I was weirdly cold, even though the night was hot and humid.

  Cole and I walked back to the trunk. I was reluctant to use the key I’d found, even though I’d been willing to pry it open only a few minutes before. Part of me hoped Miguel was there. The other part of me said this could be a very bad thing.

  Two black SUVs pulled up, along with a Mobile police car. The siren wasn’t on, but the blue lights on top were flashing.

  “Open it,” Cole urged me. “If he’s still alive, he might need help right away.”

  I nodded and popped open the trunk, holding my breath.

  I could see it wasn’t empty. There was a dim trunk light that faintly illuminated the space. Something was in there, wrapped in a tarp.

  I reached my hand down and rolled it over. Please don’t be dead!

  It was Miguel—and Tina. Their hands and feet were duct-taped together, and there was tape on their mouths.

  My heart stopped beating. I could barely breathe. I put my hand on Miguel’s chest. He was alive—unconscious, but alive.

  “Get me an ambulance out here!” Patti shot back to one of her uniformed officers.

  I hadn’t even noticed she was there.

  “Step aside, Zoe. Let us get them out.”

  – – – – – – –

  They pulled Miguel and Tina carefully out of the trunk and untaped them. Neither one of them was moving. The paramedics examined them, slowly removing the tape from their mouths.

  “Looks like someone hit him on the head,” the lead paramedic said. “He’s out of it, but he’ll probably be fine. They’ll want to do some tests on him at the hospital to be sure.”

  “But he’ll wake up, right?” I asked.

  “He should. It’s a good thing you found him out here. The heat tomorrow could’ve finished him off.”

  Tina was alive, too. She’d been strangled. There were terrible bruises on her throat.

  They took Miguel away on a stretcher and put him in the back of the ambulance. I watched the vehicle speed away out of the parking lot and up the street until I couldn’t see it anymore.

  A second ambulance was pulling into the lot for Tina.

  “Thank God!” Uncle Saul wrapped his arms around me. “What kind of person leaves someone in a trunk to die?”

  “The kind that already murdered at least three other people,” Patti said. “Marsh must’ve run out of bullets or we’d probably be calling the coroner now.”

  “Have you heard anything else about the Marsh sighting?” I asked her.

  “No. I’ve been too busy fielding calls from dozens of people across the city who thought they’d found Miguel. I don’t know whose network that was, but I’d appreciate it if they’d call them off now.”

  Delia and Uncle Saul both got on their phones right away. Ollie high-fived a small group of his friends from the homeless shelter who were in the parking lot with him.

  “It’s four A.M.” Uncle Saul glanced at his watch. “I don’t think there’s much point in going to bed now. We’ll have to be up in another hour or so.”

  I agreed with him, even though I yawned as I did it. “I’d like to go to the hospital until we either hear something about Miguel or we have to get the Biscuit Bowl for the race.”

  Ollie and Uncle Saul agreed. Delia decided to go back with Chef Art’s security team and take a shower before she had to work.

  “Don’t worry, Zoe.” Detective Helms looked exhausted in the orange light. “We’re gonna find Marsh. He’ll pay for what he’s done.”

  Truly, that thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I suppose it should have, but
all I could think about was being there when Miguel woke up.

  Uncle Saul and Ollie jumped in the taxi with me, and Cole took off. The police would be sending a crime scene crew out to gather evidence from the Mercedes. I’d given the key to Patti so they could work on it. I wasn’t sure what they hoped to find. It was obvious what had happened. But I didn’t want to keep her from doing her job.

  We got to the hospital in record time. It looked like a slow night for them. Orderlies jumped up when they saw us come through the emergency entrance and then sat back down when there was nothing to do.

  I asked about Miguel at the window.

  A surprisingly nice nurse told us they were still examining him. “I’ll send someone out to talk to you when they’re finished. Take a seat and have some coffee. We have some donuts, too. One of the local bakeries donates them to us.”

  I couldn’t eat, but the coffee was good. The waiting room was empty except for the four of us. The seats were upholstered and comfortable. I could almost forget I was in a hospital, except for the smell of antiseptic.

  I think I’d gone to sleep for a few moments, leaning my head against Uncle Saul’s shoulder, when a doctor finally came out and talked to us.

  “Mr. Alexander is going to be fine. No lasting injuries from his ordeal. He’s a little dehydrated but conscious now. If you’d like to see him for a few minutes, that would be fine. Follow me.”

  Cole stayed behind, even though we’d encouraged him to come, too. “I don’t know Miguel. You go. I can shake his hand later when he gets out of here.” He helped himself to another donut and sat down to watch TV.

  Uncle Saul, Ollie, and I followed the doctor in blue scrubs down the hallway. He opened the door to a room, and we awkwardly went in.

  There was Miguel—pale and wearing a hospital gown, his black hair mussed. There were dark circles under his eyes and a cut by his mouth. But he was smiling at us.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done.” I had decided I would be cool. I wouldn’t get overemotional. Then his voice cracked as he was thanking us. That was it. I ran and threw myself at him, crying all over his hospital gown.

  “It’s okay, Zoe.” He held my hand and smiled at me. “I’m going to be fine.”

  “You didn’t look very fine in that trunk.” I sobbed. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Ollie laughed. “I think you look pretty good for someone who let a cop knock him out and stuff him in the trunk of his own car.”

  Uncle Saul agreed. “What happened, Miguel? How did he get the drop on you?”

  Miguel was a little fuzzy on the exact details, but he knew what the end result was.

  “I was working at my office and looked up. There were Detective Marsh and Tina. I thought he wanted to interview us again. I got up and walked across the room to talk to him. Tina called out a warning. I glanced her way, and something hit me hard in the back of the head. I woke up here.”

  “I guess he didn’t like that Tina tried to warn you, huh? That’s why she ended up in the back of the car with you. She must have a soft spot for you.” Ollie continued to joke about the incident. “What do you think Marsh hit you with?”

  “I’m not sure. The police probably know.”

  “You’re lucky he didn’t shoot you,” Uncle Saul said. “He must have a soft spot for you.”

  “I’m not sure how much better it would’ve been to die in the trunk of my car.”

  “Marsh even texted me from your phone at the party to tell me that you didn’t want to see me again,” I told him. “He pretended to be you and tried to convince me that you and Tina were together.”

  He took my hand. “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

  Ollie chuckled. “Yeah. You were lucky Zoe didn’t have a gun.”

  “You didn’t believe him, did you?” Miguel ignored Ollie.

  “No. Of course not.” I stared at Ollie, daring him to disagree. “That’s why I came looking for you. I knew something was wrong.”

  I hoped Ollie would drop the subject. We talked with Miguel for a few more minutes before the nurse asked us to leave, saying that he needed to rest.

  I waited until everyone else was gone, and then I hugged Miguel and carefully kissed him.

  “I’m sorry I’ll miss the last part of the race. I’m sure you’ll win. Be careful. We still don’t know what Marsh is up to.”

  “I will. You stay here and get well. As soon as you get out, we’ll have a big celebration dinner.”

  He smiled. “That’s great. Let’s start planning to have a real date, just the two of us. As much as I love your friends, I’d enjoy spending some time alone with you.”

  I kissed him again for thinking exactly what I had been thinking. The nurse threatened to have me removed. I told Miguel good night, and the nurse watched until I had reached the elevator.

  “How is Tina Gerard doing?” I asked as an afterthought, feeling a little guilty.

  “She’ll live.” The nurse’s tone was exasperated. “Go home.”

  Ollie and Uncle Saul were waiting with Cole at the taxi when I reached the street.

  “I guess it’s too late now to do much of anything.” I sighed, happy to know that Miguel was all right.

  Uncle Saul looked at his watch. “It’s four thirty. I think we can get breakfast and pick up the Biscuit Bowl before we head over to the meeting place. It’s good that we didn’t have to buy supplies. The contest would’ve been over before it even got started.”

  I agreed with him.

  We stopped at a fast-food place for breakfast. Not the best, but all we had time for. I bought breakfast for Cole, who’d been such a big help in finding Miguel.

  Uncle Saul gave him money for gas, overruling me when I complained that I should be the one to pay for it.

  “Tomorrow, after you’ve won all that cash, you can take us out somewhere special,” he promised. “Today, you just hold on to your money.”

  I hugged him, and we went to get the food truck.

  Cole watched us load up, waiting by his taxi in the parking lot of the old shopping center. “I hope you win today, Zoe. I’ll be there to cheer you on. See you later, Saul. You, too, Ollie.”

  “What are we doing about Delia?” Ollie asked. “Should we go and get her?”

  “Sorry. I got a text from her earlier.” I’d forgotten to tell him. “She’s meeting us there. One of the security men is bringing her.”

  Ollie wasn’t thrilled about that. “I can see dating a woman like Delia is gonna be rough.”

  Uncle Saul laughed and clapped him on the shoulder before getting into the Biscuit Bowl. “You have no idea. Best get out now while you still can.”

  “No way. You know how long it’s been since I dated anyone?”

  “Ollie, you’re not that old,” Uncle Saul said. “If you won’t walk away, be ready for heartbreak.”

  He got in beside Ollie, and I put Crème Brûlée in his lap.

  “Why are you bringing the cat now?” Ollie asked.

  “For good luck. He got us this far.” I smiled and kissed Crème Brûlée’s head.

  “I don’t think it was the cat!”

  I got in the food truck and started the engine, humming to myself as we approached the downtown area where I might have been anyway on a normal Friday morning. It was good to be home.

  Everyone was still getting set up when we arrived. The producer’s assistant pointed to the area where we should park. The cool-down tent and stage weren’t even up yet. Shut Up and Eat was parked in front of us.

  I was surprised to see a few of the other food trucks that had been left behind in the race.

  “I guess we’ll help you get set up until they tell us to switch,” Uncle Saul said, observing the situation on the street.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Ollie agreed
.

  Antonio Stephanopoulos stopped by after I opened the back door. “Just wanted to say good luck today.”

  “You brought your Pizza Papa food truck all the way down here?” I couldn’t believe he did that to cheer us on.

  He shrugged. “They offered us another spot on the program, and a thousand dollars, to come down here for the last day. I thought, why not?”

  “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll see you later.”

  “Why would they pay the losers to come back?” Ollie asked when he was gone.

  “To fill out the crowd and make the pictures better.” Chef Art surprised us as he walked into the food truck. “You all play fair today, and win the race. Make sure you wear your hats, especially you, Zoe, when they present you with the prize money.”

  We all promised to wear the poufy chef hats he’d given us. I was glad it was the last day I’d have to wear it. Wearing hats made my curls cranky after a while. The hat looked like a big billowy cloud on my head that morning. Not a good look for photos, but it would have to do.

  Only a few minutes later, one of the producer’s assistants told us to come to the stage. Everything was set up and ready to go in the kitchen. I knew that was going to be helpful once I’d lost Uncle Saul to the other food truck.

  I hoped I’d chosen the right assistant.

  “Okay. I guess we’re ready. Let’s head over.” I hugged Uncle Saul. “I’m going to miss you today.”

  “Cheer up,” he said. “At least it’s almost over.”

  Delia was waiting outside the food truck. She was wearing baggy jeans and an old orange sweatshirt that did absolutely nothing for her.

  “You dressed down for me, didn’t you?” I grinned.

  “They can tell us what we have to do, but no one said anything about how we should dress. You’ll have the cute daughter to sell product. Bobbie will either have me or Saul.”

  I hugged her. “Good thinking.”

  “My pleasure.” She went to Ollie’s side and held his hand as we crossed the street.

  It was still a little misty outside. Not raining, at least not yet. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen.

  Delia’s trick made me wonder if Bobbie and her daughter hadn’t come up with something similar to make it harder for us that day. Just making the rule that team members couldn’t openly hurt the other team’s chances wasn’t enough to stop some creative treachery.