Don't Forget Me

by Meg Benjamin

  “It’s almost ready. Just a few more tweaks in the settings.” Settings that Mabel could probably have figured out for herself if she’d taken the time. Kit gritted her teeth—at least she was now square with Mabel after taking time off for the shower.

  “You can go work on it now,” Mabel said briskly. “I need it ASAP.”

  “But we’ve still got a few people coming in for lunch.”

  Mabel waved a vague hand. “Oh, I can handle the hostess station. The software is more important, believe me.”

  That was, of course, a matter of opinion, but Kit wasn’t really sorry to spend the rest of the afternoon sitting in front of a computer. Her arches had already begun to ache.

  After Elaine had dropped off a third order, without a single one from Phillip, Joe stepped out into the dining room to see what the hell was going on. As he’d suspected, he found Elaine’s station was almost full, while Philip leaned against the wall, muttering, probably about the empty tables that surrounded him.

  Mabel Morgenstern was standing at the hostess station. As far as Joe could tell, she was spending more time on her BlackBerry than on taking care of anything in the dining room. Elaine was trying desperately to keep water and iced tea flowing.

  “Where’s Kit?” he snapped. He’d found that Mabel responded more promptly to bluntness, which was fine with him since she pissed him off so thoroughly most of the time that it was hard not to snarl at her.

  Mabel patted her smooth chignon. “She’s doing some work for me on the scheduling software. Why? Do you need her for something?”

  Joe gritted his teeth. “I need her to manage the damn restaurant. I thought that was her job.”

  “I’m the one who decides what her job is, and today I needed her to fix the software.” Mabel gave him the usual sunny smile that didn’t extend any farther than her lips.

  “And you’re taking over as the restaurant hostess?”

  Mabel raised an eyebrow. “Why would you have a problem with that?”

  “I don’t, in general. Only the part about you screwing the seating up, which is, in fact, most of the goddamn job. You’ve got all the customers on one station. The most experienced waiter is just standing around while the novice is being run off her feet.”

  Mabel shrugged. “I put the people at the tables by the windows so they could have the view. You can just tell the waiters to split the tables up. Seems simple enough.”

  “That’s why we have the damn stations, Mabel. They’re supposed to divide up the work so the waiters can take care of all the customers. It only seems simple to you because don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”

  Mabel’s mouth tightened to a thin line. “Listen, Joseph, I don’t care how wonderful a chef you think you are, you can still be fired. Just like anybody else. At my discretion.”

  Joe gave her his best lazy grin. “You gonna try to fire me, Mabel? Even though you didn’t hire me in the first place? Even though you aren’t my boss in any way except technically? You want to try explaining to Mauritz why you felt it necessary to fire the chef who got them back their four-star rating because I didn’t work and play well with you? Good luck, darlin’. But if I was you, I wouldn’t push it.”

  Mabel’s eyes burned bright as diamonds. For a moment, he thought she might actually let loose with a few obscenities, which would have suited his mood exactly. Instead she blew out a breath in an exaggerated sigh. “Anything else?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “But if anybody else comes in, send them over to the empty section. I don’t want to have to deal with a waiter rebellion when lunch is over.”

  She gave him a blood-chilling look. “I’ll consider it.”

  “You do that, darlin’.” He started to head back to the kitchen, then decided not to. In his current mood he was liable to pick a fight with one of his line cooks, and he needed to keep them happy. Maybe he’d see if he could find Kit. He’d been planning to ask her out again anyway and doing it now would definitely improve his mood.

  Unfortunately, his mood took another turn south when he saw the cop from the Faro walk in the front door of the inn as he crossed the lobby. Joe paused, folding his arms across his chest. Maybe he could pick a fight with him instead of the cooks. That might be entertaining. Of course, it might also be painful. “Can I help you?”

  Apparently, judging by his narrowed eyes and his tightened jaw, the cop recognized him too. “I’m looking for Kit Maldonado.”

  Joe allowed himself a slightly curved lip. “Well now. Don’t tell me the beauteous Ms. Maldonado is in trouble with the law. I’d hate to lose one of the few competent employees the Woodrose has.”

  The cop’s eyes narrowed still further. “Ms. Maldonado isn’t in any trouble, and I need to talk to her. Can you tell me where she is, or should I start opening doors at random?”

  Joe grinned in spite of himself. “Nice one. If Mabel was out here on duty, she’d probably be cowering.” He stuck out his hand. “Don’t believe we’ve met formally. I’m Joe LeBlanc. I work with Kit.”

  The cop looked like he was considering whether he wanted to shake hands or not, but apparently his mama had raised him with the same set of manners Mama LeBlanc had used on her nearest and dearest. He gave Joe’s hand a half-hearted shake. “Fernando Avrogado. Now where’s Kit?”

  For a moment, Joe considered jerking him around a little more since it was the most fun he’d had all day. On the other hand, a dustup in the lobby would give Mabel an actual reason to fire him, one that would probably stand up with Bert Mauritz, the head of Resorts Consolidated’s U.S. branch. “She’s in the manager’s office.” He pointed down the hall. “Third door on the left.”

  Avrogado nodded curtly. “Thanks.” He walked past him toward the door.

  Joe felt like sighing all of a sudden. The chances of hooking up with Kit Maldonado were looking more and more remote. Which made this the capper on an already shitty day.

  He decided to head back to the kitchen. Hell, there had to be something in there that needed chopping.

  When Kit heard the door open behind her, she assumed it was Mabel. She’d already been back to check on her progress three times. Of course being checked on every fifteen minutes hadn’t made the work go any more quickly, but that apparently didn’t bother Mabel as much as it did Kit.

  “Look, Mabel, I’m almost done,” she muttered. “I’ll call you when it’s finished.”

  “Fine by me,” a masculine voice rumbled behind her. “Of course, I don’t exactly know what you’re talking about.”

  Kit swiveled the desk chair around with a frantic squeak. Nando stood in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” she blurted.

  He shrugged, his smile turning dry. “I’m on the job, as it turns out. I needed to ask you some questions about last night. Can you give me ten minutes?”

  Kit managed a quick smile of her own. “Sure, of course. I’m sorry, that was pretty rude. I wasn’t expecting anybody except my boss back here.”

  He pulled up the visitor chair from beside the desk. “That’s okay. Shouldn’t take long. I just wanted to find out what you remembered about the chase last night.”

  Kit shook her head. “Not much. I was at the back of the crowd and the guy ran by at light speed. I didn’t really see him.”

  “Any idea of height and weight?” Somehow a notebook had materialized in Nando’s hand.

  She shrugged. “Nothing much, really. I mean he was taller than most of us, but except for Docia we’re all pretty much average size. And I’ve never been able to estimate weight anyway.”

  “How about clothes?”

  Kit closed her eyes, trying to remember. “Dark. That’s about all I can tell you. Shirt and pants. And baseball hat. All I really saw was his back.” She tried to visualize it again, then opened her eyes, frowning.

  “What?”

  “Now that I think about it, I’d swear I’ve seen him somewhere before. But I don’t know where or when. It’s just…I’ve seen that back. D
oing something.”

  Nando sat very still, his hand poised over his notebook. “Take your time.”

  Kit waited for a moment longer, trying to push at the faint tickle at the back of her mind. Then she sighed, grimacing. “No, sorry. I don’t know what I’m thinking of exactly. But I’d swear the guy was from around here somewhere. I guess that’s not much help, though, is it?”

  Nando shrugged again. “It’s some help. If we put it together with what other people remember, we might get somewhere with it.” He yawned, then rubbed his eyes, grimacing.

  Kit studied the deepening lines around his mouth. He looked a couple of years older than he had the last time she’d seen him. “Are you okay?”

  “Just tired. I haven’t been to bed yet.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve been up since last night?”

  “Yeah, and I’m back on duty again at six. I’m hoping I can grab a couple of hours of sleep before then.” He slid the notebook back into this pocket.

  “That’s…” she shook her head again, searching for an adjective that was dire enough.

  “It’s okay. It’s just work. I’ve done it before.” The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “Have dinner with me Saturday night.”

  She blinked at him. “Saturday night?”

  “My first day off night duty. And I’m off again on Sunday.” His grin became more pronounced. “It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

  Kit blew out a breath. “Okay, I’ll have dinner with you. Now go home and get some rest.”

  “I’ll do that.” He pushed himself to his feet, then looked back again. “And now I’ll have pleasant dreams.”

  Kit resisted the urge to fan herself as she watched him walk away. It really wasn’t that hot in the office.

  The last customer took off at two when Joe emerged from the kitchen again. He’d already managed to soothe the waiter rebellion by reminding them that Kit would be back on tomorrow, and she at least knew what she was doing. Now he wanted to make sure that was the case.

  Mabel ignored him elaborately as he walked through the lobby. He thought about leaning on the desk and exchanging a few words, but he no longer felt like it. Besides, harassing Mabel about her incompetence was like shooting fish in a barrel.

  He headed for the office, then paused in the doorway. Kit was leaning back in her chair as she looked out the window. She wore a faint smile, her eyes slightly unfocussed, as if she were daydreaming. She looked even more gorgeous than usual. Unfortunately, he had a pretty good idea who’d put that dreamy smile on her face.

  Well, shit.

  “Did the cop find you?” he asked, as if the answer weren’t obvious.

  “Nando? Yeah. He just had some questions about what happened last night.”

  “Last night?” Joe frowned, trying to remember if he’d heard anything about last night. The only thing that sprang to mind was a screwed-up produce order.

  “What happened downtown last night. I was there.”

  “Downtown?” He wasn’t usually this slow on the uptake. He wondered just how many brain cells he’d sacrificed in New Orleans.

  Kit shook her head. “You haven’t heard about all of this, have you? There have been some burglaries downtown, with vandalism. You know—Allie’s bakery was one of the places that got hit.”

  Joe nodded, happy to be back on solid ground. “Right, sure. I remember now. Took off with some kitchen equipment.”

  “That’s the one. He hit another store last night, only Nando saw him and chased him down Main.”

  “And you were there?” Joe frowned, envisioning a number of unpleasant scenarios involving hostages. If this was what Avrogado did on dates, maybe he still had a chance.

  “I was there by accident. We were having a shower for Allie in a store down the street and the shower guests walked into the middle of the chase. If it hadn’t been for us, Nando might have been able to catch the so-and-so.” Kit sighed. “It’s going to take us a few weeks to live that down.”

  “Did you see the guy?”

  She shook her head. “It all happened too fast. I think he’s a local, though. His back looked familiar.”

  Joe grinned. “You an aficionado of backs, darlin’?”

  Kit flushed pink. “Not especially. It just…I thought I’d seen him somewhere before.”

  “Ah well.” He let his grin slide into something lazier. “There’s a new place opened up in Johnson City. Chef used to work in Houston. Want to check it out with me after the lunch rush Saturday?”

  She licked her lips, her cheeks still faintly flushed. “That sounds nice, but I’m busy Saturday. Sorry.”

  Joe gritted his teeth. A day late and a dollar short—foiled again. “Maybe next time, darlin’.” Although he sincerely doubted there’d be a next time, given the effect the cop had had on Kit. Maybe he should start checking out the talent at the Faro. There had to be some interesting unattached females in this town.

  Although he figured none of them would be quite as interesting at Kit Maldonado. Unfortunately.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Toleffson called another meeting for six, after Nando had managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep. He wasn’t exactly groggy, but he hoped to hell nobody decided to knock over the bank tonight—his reflexes weren’t exactly first rate.

  He sipped a cup of Helen’s coffee, which was a lot like mainlining caffeine. Helen herself had stuck around after her shift ended, a clear indication of just how dire the situation was becoming since Helen rarely stayed at the station any longer than she had to.

  Ham and Delaney had gone over Margaret’s store, but hadn’t found any more evidence to speak of, although Ham had taken lots of fingerprints. Judging by the state of his clothes, he’d left a fine dusting of fingerprint powder everywhere he’d gone. Nando was guessing Margaret wasn’t pleased.

  “So what did he get this time?” Toleffson asked.

  Delaney shrugged. “Ms. Hastings said she didn’t think he took anything, but she’ll double-check once she finishes cleaning the place up. I guess he smashed some figurines. Plus she kept talking about some ‘throw’ that got all messed up. I don’t even know what a throw is.”

  “It’s like a blanket,” the chief explained, carefully not looking at Nando.

  “Well, anyway, this throw thing and the figurines are the only real damage. He tossed some stuff around, so he was maybe looking for something else to take, but I guess he didn’t have time to find anything good.”

  Toleffson turned to Rollie and Dawson. “Anybody on the block see anything?”

  Rollie grimaced. “Sure. They all saw the boogeyman coming down the chimney.” He flipped open his notebook. “One guy said he saw, and I quote, ‘some big Mexican dude’ climbing over his back fence.” Rollie himself was a sort of big Mexican-American dude, but the witness might not have noticed. “Another one saw somebody running down the sidewalk with a shotgun. He ran back inside and got his shotgun out of the closet, but he said when he got back, they were gone.”

  “Fortunately,” Nando muttered.

  Dawson nodded. “Got that right. Last thing we need is everybody blasting away in the dark. Two or three other people thought they might have seen somebody in their backyard, but nobody had a description. If he was around that block, he got away clean.”

  Helen shook her head. “Nobody’s gonna see anything over there. People over on that block probably go to bed at nine. Mostly retired folks, one or two families with young kids. You must have woke ’em up. They’re not gonna remember nothin’.”

  Toelffson pinched the bridge of his nose. “So that’s a wash. I talked to my wife, along with Janie and Jess Toleffson. None of them saw much. Said he wore black and moved fast. How about you?” He turned to Nando.

  Nando sighed. “Allie and Deirdre said they didn’t see a thing. Both of them were too far back in the group. But Docia and Kit both said he looked familiar.”

  The chief frowned, leaning forward slightly. “Familiar
how?”

  “Neither of them could explain it. But they were both fairly sure they’d seen him before.”

  “So they saw his face?”

  Nando shook his head. “Nope. Just general impressions.”

  Rollie blew out a derisive breath. “Yeah. Like the big Mexican dude who was absolutely and for sure going over the guy’s back fence.”

  “No.” Nando shook his head again. “Neither of them claimed they actually recognized him, and they were both sort of apologetic about bringing it up. But both of them thought there was something familiar about the guy. We just don’t know what it was.”

  The chief glanced at Helen. “Any gossip floating around about this? Anybody on the radar?”

  She shook her head. “Lotta people talkin’ about it, but nobody who’s the favorite candidate yet.”

  Toleffson leaned back in his chair again, sighing. “Okay, then, basically we’ve got nothing. No prints, no physical evidence, no solid descriptions.”

  Delaney shrugged. “Maybe he’ll take off now. He almost got caught this time, and he didn’t get away with anything. The stuff he’s taken so far isn’t worth much. Maybe he’ll decide to cut his losses.”

  “Maybe. But I wouldn’t count on it.” The chief turned to Dawson and Rollie. “I’ve got authorization from Rankin to keep up the double patrols until we catch this SOB. You guys can alternate—two nights on, two nights off.”

  The two nodded. Rollie yawned so widely his jaw cracked.

  Toleffson glanced at Nando. “You good for tonight?”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow’s the last night of my shift. I can do it.” He rubbed his eyes.

  “Okay, who takes over this weekend?”

  “Me,” Dawson said.

  “And me.” Delaney raised his hand tentatively. “My first time on nights.”

  Toleffson sighed. “Well, kid, at least now you know what to look for. Everybody who’s not on duty go home and get some sleep. Let’s hope somebody other than the perp gets a brilliant idea overnight.”