M.urder R.eady to E.at (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 2)

by Anita Rodgers

  I rocked back in his chair and stretched. "Okay, now that we’re done with the bizarre Mr. Beidemeyer, what’s next?"

  Joe took me by the hand and pulled me gently out of his chair, then sat his own butt down in it. "Nothing for the time being."

  Zelda perked up like it was Christmas morning. "You mean we're free?"

  He hooked his thumbs together and wiggled his fingers. "Free as a bird." He chuckled. "So off with you for now. I got a few pokers in the fire, when one of them pops, I’ll call y’all."

  Needing no further encouragement, Zelda dragged me out of the office and into the heat of the early evening.

  We hurried to the car and got the AC going. I slumped in my seat and sighed.

  She glanced at me. "Why so glum?"

  "Just hot and cranky." I glanced at her. "Takeout tonight? The thought of cooking makes me want to puke."

  Any suggestion of food is a good suggestion as far as Zelda is concerned, so we stopped for Chinese. Both ravenous, we ordered orange chicken, broccoli beef, fried rice, noodles, kung pao chicken and sweet and sour spare ribs. Then stopped for milkshakes at 31 Flavors.

  I slurped on my milkshake as we rounded Sunland Park — still searching for people who weren't there. I felt Zelda's eyes on me and turned to her. "What?"

  "Are you okay?"

  I waved my shake container at her. "Why does everybody keep asking me that?"

  "Chocolate milkshakes and Chinese food?"

  I shrugged. "So? You got a shake too."

  Zelda hooked a right onto Hillcrest. "Yeah, but that's how I always eat. Since when do you want greasy Chinese and liquid ice cream? And you didn't order any veggies."

  I shook my head. "Wrong, I ordered broccoli beef."

  Zelda held up a hand. "Okay, whatever." She clicked the remote at the gate and when it opened pulled onto our property. To cut ten seconds off our time in the heat, she parked right at the front porch. Still, in just the few seconds it took to unlock the door and get inside, we were slick with sweat.

  Boomer having smelled Chinese food, ran to greet us and did his twirly dance.

  Zelda jacked up the A/C, and I carried the food to the kitchen. We didn't bother with plates — just dug into the cartons with forks and chopsticks. Like two eating machines, we didn't stop until there was nothing left.

  Zelda looked down at our little mutt. "Sorry Booms."

  Boomer whimpered, sniffed the air, then went back to his bed.

  I downed a glass of iced tea, then belched. "Ah." I hopped off my stool and opened the fridge. "Do we have any of that fried chicken left?"

  "I ate it."

  "How about the meatloaf?"

  "Gone."

  I closed the fridge and frowned at her. "Damn, Zee."

  "Damn Scotti, you just ate about ten pounds of food and you're still hungry? You better get your appetite back in check. Ted ain’t going to marry a lady wrestler."

  I poured another glass of tea and sat down again. "Nah, I never gain an ounce, no matter what I eat."

  Zelda tilted her head and stared at my hips. "I don't know, those shorts are looking a little snug to me."

  I chuckled. "You’re the human vacuum cleaner around here. What’s the matter, you mad that you might have to share some leftovers?" Then a wave of nausea hit me like a two by four. I slapped my hand over my mouth and ran for the bathroom. And all of that tasty Chinese food came up and out. I have to admit it was less tasty on the second run-through. "Oh God."

  Zelda nudged me. "Scotti?"

  When I opened my eyes Zelda’s face was about three inches from mine. She hadn’t looked that freaked out since she decked Ricky Marks and thought she killed him. "What?" I pushed her out of my face. "Back off."

  "Jeez, I thought you were dead."

  The inside of my mouth tasted like vomit flavored lint. I got to my feet, using the commode for support. I splashed my face cold water and rinsed my mouth. "Ugh."

  Zelda put the back of her hand to my forehead. "Are you sick?"

  I pushed her hand away, but that only made me sway and grab the sink for support. "Stop clucking Mother Goose."

  Zelda caught me before I keeled over and helped me to the sofa. Then she filled an ice pack and told me to hold it to my head. She stuffed pillows under my knees then said, "I'm calling the doctor."

  "What doctor? We don't have a doctor."

  She pawed through my bag. "Dr. Val then. Where's her number?"

  I plunked the ice pack on the coffee table and propped up on my elbows. "Dr. Val is for lady parts only. I'm fine. I don't need a doctor." Then I fell back on the pillows because keeping head up made the room sway. "Turn up the AC, it's hot in here."

  Zelda sat on the edge of the sofa and pushed the sweaty hair off my face. "You are not fine."

  I slapped her hand away. "Sure I am, fine as frog hair." Zelda scoffed. "Quit clucking. I just ate too much too fast. That's all."

  Zelda stared at me like I was a science project. "You look like crap."

  I held back a gag then swallowed. "I've been throwing up for an hour — of course I look like crap."

  She didn't buy it and had that same looked she'd get when we were kids and I'd gotten the shit kicked out of me. "I'm calling Ted."

  I bolted up and the room swayed again. "No! Don't call Ted."

  She grabbed her phone. "Somebody's got to talk some sense into you."

  "Zelda Marie Carter, if you don't put that phone down, I'm going to kick your ass." But my words came out as a whisper not a roar. And my head spun. And I had to lie down again. Tears welled in my eyes. "Please Zee, don't call him."

  Zelda sighed and put down her phone. "Scotti."

  I rubbed my aching head. "Look, you know how Ted is — he'll rush over and force me to go to the emergency room." I pleaded with my eyes. "Just let it be. Okay?"

  Zelda knelt and put the ice pack on my forehead. "You swear if there was really something wrong, you'd tell me?"

  I crossed my heart. "I just need some sleep. Can you put on the television? The sound will help me sleep."

  Zelda turned on the TV and covered me with a throw. But continued to hover and jumped every time I moved — like I might need CPR at any moment.

  I felt like crap, but between the food truck and working for Joe, I'd missed a lot of sleep. Add Ron's death and Ted's family antics and the scales had tipped too far. And Ted didn’t need anything else to stress about either.

  Whether I liked it or not, it was time to slow down.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The rest of the week was normal — no vomiting, no murders, no arguments and no family drama. Balance had been restored and everything was good again. Except that the heat hovered in the triple digits. The trick was to go from one air conditioned venue to the next with minimum exposure to the outdoors. A little hard to pull off when you're working a food truck, but we managed by starting earlier and quitting earlier.

  By Saturday morning the bug that had invaded my system was gone, and we headed out to the local farmer's markets for fresh fruit. I wanted berries to make tartlets and turnovers. Given the unrelenting heat, the heavier desserts were going untouched in favor of lighter treats. We hit the markets in West L.A., downtown, Glendale and Pasadena but came up empty-handed. Then we hooked over to Burbank where the berry fairy had apparently left all her best stuff.

  To make quick work of our task and lessen the time in the searing sun, we split up. Zelda shopped for cherries, peaches, plums and apricots. And I went for the blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, and strawberries.

  Even though it wasn't yet ten, I was sheened with sweat and my naturally curly hair expanded like a sea sponge. I was loading up berry flats on my custom hand cart when I felt someone's gaze burning holes into my back. When you're wearing a tank top and shorts, men stare a little too hard sometimes, but this didn’t feel like one of those stares. My eyes flitted in the direction of the laser beam trained on my back, and caught Carl Beidemeyer studying me. I gasped, looked aw
ay, and focused on securing the flats to the cart. My adrenaline quick released into a dancy-dance of nerves, but I forced myself to move calmly and deliberately. I didn’t want to draw his attention. But I couldn’t seem to shake him loose either. All I could do was go about my business act like I was unaware of his scrutiny.

  When the flats were secured, I thanked the vendor and turned in the direction away from Beidemeyer. Moving toward 3rd Street, I casually pulled out my phone and called Zelda. "Where are you?" She was on the other side of the market. "Okay, I've got what I need — meet me at the jeep in five." I hung up and hooked right onto 3rd toward Olive.

  The wheels on my cart squeaked as I moved along the street, and I felt like a kid dragging her wagon. Though the only footsteps I heard were my own, I didn't dare look back. The jeep was parked on Olive — only a couple minutes away, but it felt like I’d never get there. The hot steamy air worked against me and added to my frustration. At Olive, I hooked right again and felt giddy at the sight of the jeep. I picked up my pace but fought the urge to run.

  When I got to the jeep, I blew out a breath. My hands shook as I unlocked the rear gate, and my fight or flight instincts had my body humming. I lifted the rear window, then lowered the gate. When I turned back to the cart Carl Beidemeyer stood behind me. I flinched and backed against the open gate. "Who are you? What do you want?"

  Beidemeyer tilted his head and furrowed his brow as though unsure. "Just to talk." He held out his hands to show he was harmless. "I won't hurt you."

  Pulling out my phone I said, "I don’t know you, and I should believe you won’t hurt me? Get lost or I'm calling the cops." I waved the phone at him. "Cops hate stalkers."

  A petulant smile glanced his face. "Oh, but I know you."

  I shook my head and jutted out my hip. "Bullshit. Now get lost." I raised the phone and poised a finger to dial. "I have friends who are cops, and they’ll be here in a flash if I call them."

  Beidemeyer didn't buy my act for a second. He stepped closer. "You're Scotti Fitzgerald." He smiled and nodded. "I looked you up. Chef and crime fighter. Interesting resume."

  I looked past him, scanning for Zelda, but the streets held only strangers who had no interest in me or Beidemeyer. The only thing that stood between us was the hand cart loaded with berries. I pushed the handcart toward him, and he backed up a few steps. "Oh, so you looked me up online and suddenly, you know me? Does that line work for you?" I pointed to the street. "I’m not interested."

  Beidemeyer threw back his head and laughed. "You're good. Almost convincing." He stopped laughing. "But not quite." He looked at me like he was checking out a used car. "You've been following me and asking questions. And I want to know why. What do you want?"

  I glared at him and pushed the cart toward him again. He jumped back. "The only thing I want is for you to get the hell away from me."

  His eyes roamed my body and lingered on my breasts. "You're an attractive woman, Ms. Fitzgerald. It'd be a shame if something changed that."

  My grip tightened on the cart handle. "Now you’re threatening me?"

  He shrugged. "I'm a dangerous man, Ms. Fitzgerald. I've killed men with my bare hands. You'd do well to remember that."

  I scoffed. "So, you're a big tough guy when it comes to defenseless women, huh?" I glared at him. "Newsflash, you don’t scare me. And I'm not crazy like your friend Marika. You'd do well to remember that, Mr. Beidemeyer."

  When I said Marika's name, he twitched, and his friendly façade disappeared. Through clenched teeth he said, "Why are you following me?"

  I held his gaze and smiled. "I'm sure your wife will be happy to enlighten you."

  Beidemeyer jerked back his head. "What does my wife have to do with this?"

  Tempted as I was to get in his face now that I had him on the defensive, I kept my voice quiet and even. "What other reason would I have to follow you if not by request?"

  Beidemeyer's face twisted into a nasty sneer. "Just stay away from me. Do you understand?" He jabbed a finger at me. "Stay very far away from me." He turned and stormed away. I watched until he disappeared around the corner but couldn’t bring myself to look away, for fear he’d reappear.

  "What are you looking at?"

  I jumped and spun around. "Damn it Zee quit sneaking up on me."

  She wheeled her cart to the back of the jeep. "What happened?"

  As we unpacked our carts, I told her about the confrontation with Beidemeyer.

  "No shit?"

  I shook my head and stared in the direction of Beidemeyer's departure. "I wonder when he made us."

  Zelda stacked flats in the back of the jeep. "Beats me. Maybe Marika did see us that night and told him."

  I grabbed two flats of berries from my cart then handed them to Zelda. "Maybe Marika told him about our visit with the flowers. He knew my name and other stuff about me. He checked me out online."

  Zelda screwed up her mouth as she thought. "Weird." She nudged me out of the way, unpacked the rest of my cart and stowed the flats in the back of the jeep. Then she folded up the handcarts and stowed those on their sides in the back. "Doesn't matter now."

  I frowned. "Why's that?"

  Zelda lifted the gate and slammed it shut. "Because the case is over. He ain't our problem anymore." She pulled down the window and locked it. "Right?"

  I stared at the empty street. "But he's obviously hiding something. He feels threatened, or he wouldn't have followed me." I turned back to her. "He thinks we know something."

  Zelda shrugged and yanked open her door. "But we don't." She climbed into the driver's seat. "Come on, it’s too hot to stand around here."

  I turned away from the street and climbed into the jeep. "We sort of do know something."

  Zelda switched on the engine and blasted the A/C. Muttering to herself, she checked her mirrors, pulled a u-turn out of the parking space and drove toward Glenoaks.

  "Zee?"

  She looked straight ahead and shook her head. "No Scotti, you’re not dragging me into this."

  My jaw dropped. "Since when do I drag you into things?"

  She braked at the red light and glanced at me. "I want to focus on our own business. For once. I’m tired of nosing into other people's crap. And until Joe calls again, I’m not going to." She swiped at her sweaty bangs. "We need a break." The light turned green and she hooked left onto Glenoaks. "Especially you."

  "Especially me?"

  Zelda sighed like a frazzled mother. "Honey, you're wound up you're making yourself sick." She shot me a sidelong glance. "Do you how much you scared the crap out of me the other night? You need a time out. Relax. Have a little fun. Get some fucking sleep." She scowled at me. "If those bags under your eyes get any bigger they’re going to knock your teeth out."

  I slouched in my seat and pouted. "So, I'm the only one who cares about Ron?"

  Zelda bit her lip. "Nobody said that. We care. We just don't want to enter the rodeo." She blew out a sigh. "Let Daniels worry about it."

  I stared out the window and grumbled. "Yeah like he gives a shit."

  Without warning, Zelda pulled into the parking lot of the produce market and rammed the jeep into park. Then she let loose on me. "Maybe it was an accident. Did you ever think of that? The guy was messed up. I felt sorry for him, yeah. But do I believe that he couldn't have accidentally killed himself? No! It seems completely possible to me. And to everyone else. Except you."

  "Then why did Beidemeyer confront me?"

  Zelda threw up her hands. "I don't know! Why does one thing have to connect with the other? The guy's a creep. Maybe he's selling drugs or kiddy porn — it could be anything."

  I fell back in my seat and shook my head. "Okay, so it's all just one big coincidence? Beidemeyer is schtooping Ron's wife. Coincidence. He goes to the park looking for Ron. Coincidence. The guys have disappeared. Coincidence. Beidemeyer's buddy is Daniels' new partner. Coincidence. Ron ends up dead after all of this. Coincidence. Is that what you're saying?" I sneered. "Because
if you believe all of that is just a coincidence, then you're thinking is the problem not mine."

  Zelda held up her hands in surrender, put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot.