The Maverick

by Jan Hudson

  Looking him up and down, she cocked an eyebrow.

  He grinned. “The food, I mean.”

  “All of it. I’m starved.”

  When she had polished off a good portion of the meal and half the coffee, he said, “Shall I order more?”

  “Nope.” She patted her tummy. “I’m full for now.”

  She heard the familiar ring tone of her cell phone and looked around searching for her purse. Griff finally retrieved it from underneath a couch cushion and handed it to her.

  “It’s Sunny,” she told him. “Hi, sis. What’s up?”

  “Where are you?” Sunny asked.

  “I’m having breakfast with a friend.”

  “Well, get over to Chili Witches right away. We’ve got a problem.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Where are my clothes?” Cass asked. “I’ve got to go home pronto.”

  “I sent them to the laundry,” Griff said. “They should be back in a couple of hours. Is there a problem with Sunny?”

  “Yes, and it must be serious. She’s usually pretty unflappable. I can’t go traipsing through the lobby in your shirt and underwear, and I have to leave. Where’s my bathing suit?”

  “The laundry.”

  “You sent a bathing suit to the laundry?” She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever heard of tossing such things over a shower rod? What am I going to wear home?” She eyed the draperies, but decided against the Scarlett O’Hara solution. “Oh, hell’s bells!” She located her sneakers in the bedroom and was tying them on when Griff came in the room.

  “I’m sorry, Cass. I thought we were going to spend the day here. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll run downstairs to the gift shops and find something suitable.”

  “Forget it. At those prices, I’d rather endure a little embarrassment. If Leslie can run around town in a sequined bikini, I can wear your shirt and underwear.”

  “Who’s Leslie?”

  “He’s a local character.” She rolled up her sleeves and grabbed her purse. “Have you got a hat?”

  He handed her a golf cap, and she crammed it on her head, put on her sunglasses and pecked him on the cheek as she flew toward the door.

  “Call me later,” he yelled after her as she went out.

  Nobody looked at her strangely as she walked through the lobby—or if they did she didn’t notice. Folks probably thought she was one of the Hollywood types who frequently came to town for some event or the other.

  Cass retrieved her car and sped toward home. The café was surrounded by police cars, utility trucks and even a fire truck. She screeched to a stop down the block and bolted for the back lot, where she saw Sunny talking to a uniformed cop.

  “What’s going on?” Cass asked.

  “Everything is flooded,” her sister said, “and the place is a mess.”

  “Oh my gawd! What happened?”

  “We don’t know yet,” Sunny told her. “Did you notice anything strange going on last night?”

  “I—uh—wasn’t here last night.”

  “Hmm.” Sunny looked her up and down. “Interesting outfit.”

  Cass refused to blush. “Let me go upstairs and change, and we’ll get this sorted out.”

  She hurried up to her apartment. Except for her water and electricity being off, everything seemed normal. After quickly changing into jeans and a tee, she rejoined her sister in the back lot.

  “Did Hank notice anything unusual?” Cass asked. Hank was a cop friend of Sunny’s who lived in the other upstairs apartment, the one where Sunny had lived until she bought her house.

  Her twin shook her head. “He spent the night with his fiancée.”

  “Well, damn.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why are all these people here?” Cass asked.

  “Because when I got here a few minutes ago, the alarm was turned off, and water was ankle-deep inside. I didn’t want to electrocute myself. Are you sure you set the alarm Saturday night?”

  “Of course I’m sure! Do you think I left a faucet running, too?”

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Cass. I was just asking to be sure. I’m hoping this was an accident.”

  Cass’s brows went up. “You mean you think it wasn’t? Is anything missing?”

  “I don’t know yet. People are checking everything out. It might have been a break-in. It might have been a burst pipe and a short in the electrical system. I don’t even know how bad the damage is.”

  “Well, hell,” Cass said.

  “That, too. We’ll just have to wait until all these people have time to investigate and assess the situation.”

  Sid and Foster, the middle-aged owners of Hooks, the seafood restaurant next door, walked up. “Have they found the source of the problem yet?” Sid asked.

  “Not that I’ve heard,” Cass said. “Do you have any damage?”

  “Only a few damp spots in the kitchen,” Foster, who was the restaurant chef, told them. “I didn’t think anything about it when I first noticed. We have a good drainage system.”

  “So do we,” Sunny said. “Or at least I thought so. I can’t imagine what happened. We have everybody from the water department and plumbers to the security company, firemen and cops trying to assess the situation. I’m sending our employees home for the day. No way can we serve customers.”

  “Why don’t you girls come next door for a cup of coffee,” Sid said.

  “Thanks, Sid,” Sunny replied, “but I really don’t want to leave right now.”

  “We’ll send you out something,” Foster said. “I need to get back to the kitchen.”

  A few minutes later a waiter and a busboy from Hooks brought out a table and set up a coffee and water station in the parking lot. One of their neighbors, who had stopped by to see what the fuss was about, brought over a plastic tub of cookies for the table. Everything was soon scarfed up by the various people on site, including the media reporters who stopped by for the story.

  After what seem like forever, the consensus seemed to be that the back door lock had been jimmied and either someone forgot to set the alarm or someone knew the code. In an act of malicious mischief, the someone or someones had deliberately stopped up the drains and turned on every water faucet in the kitchen and bathrooms. Nothing seemed to be missing.

  “Who would do such a thing?” Cass asked.

  “Beats me,” Sunny said, “and the chances of ever catching them are somewhere between slim and none. I don’t think I’ve pissed off anybody lately. Have you?”

  “Not that I can think of. Our problem now is cleaning up the mess. Have you called the insurance adjuster?”

  “He’s on his way, and as soon as he takes a look at things, we need to start cleaning and assessing damage,” Sunny said.

  “I vote for calling in the professionals,” Cass said. “There are companies that specialize in stuff like this. What are we going to do about all the food in the cooler and freezer?”

  “Oh, Lord. What a mess.”

  THE FOOD, WHICH WAS deemed safe, they gave to various homeless shelters and kitchens, and decided to leave the cleanup to professionals, as Cass had suggested. While she was packing a bag to move to Sunny’s house for a couple of days, Griff phoned.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “No. Everything has been chaos here. I’m sorry I forgot to call you.” She told him about the break-in and damages to Chili Witches.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “In my apartment.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Before she could say more, he was gone. She locked up, went downstairs and stowed her bag in her car. There were a million and one details to tend to, not the least of which were calling their mom and Aunt Min and telling them about the incident.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Sunny said as they stood watching the water being pumped out. “Maybe it would be a good idea to wait a few days before calling Mom and Aunt Min. By next week, everything ought to be back to normal.”<
br />
  “That’s a brilliant idea. I’m for it.” They grinned at each other. “They’re such worriers.”

  No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Cass’s cell rang. She glanced at the ID screen and frowned. “Who else do we know in France?”

  Sunny groaned. “We never have been able to get away with anything.”

  “Hi, Mom,” Cass said.

  “Cassidy,” her mother stated. “What’s going on there? Min and I have been worried all day, and nobody is answering the phone at Chili Witches. I know something is wrong. Is Sunny sick?”

  “No, Mom. Nothing like that. She’s fine. In fact, she’s standing right here beside me. You want to talk to her?”

  Sunny held up her hands and began shaking her head. “You tell her,” she whispered.

  “Uh, Mom, we’ve just had a little plumbing problem here, and we’re having to close down a couple of days to get it fixed.”

  “What kind of problem?” her mother asked. “Now, don’t beat around the bush, Cassidy. Tell me all of it.”

  Cass rolled her eyes and told her the whole story.

  “Oh, my stars and garters! I was afraid something like this would happen. Min and I will be home on the first plane.”

  “No, no, Mom. Don’t cut your stay short. Everything is under control here. Sunny and I can handle things just fine.”

  Griff arrived while she was trying to placate her mother, and she could only wave to him and mouth, “My mom. Just a minute.”

  He nodded and went to investigate the situation in the café—as if he could do anything that wasn’t already being done. By the time she got off the phone and related the conversation to Sunny, Griff was back.

  “Looks like they have everything under control. Any idea who would do such a thing?” he asked.

  Cass shook her head. “Probably the same kind of goofball who set fire to the governor’s mansion a while back. The police seem to think it’s malicious mischief, since nothing was stolen. Any available cash—and there wasn’t much—is in a big wall safe that would take a stick of dynamite or a blowtorch to open.”

  “Have you ladies had lunch?”

  “No,” Sunny said. “I haven’t even thought about lunch.”

  Cass glanced at her watch and was surprised to find it was after two o’clock. “For once I haven’t even thought of food.”

  “How’s the restaurant next door?” Griff asked. “Is it open?”

  “Hooks is great, but I think we should hang around here for a while,” Cass said.

  “You two go ahead,” Sunny told them, “and I’ll stay here.”

  “Let’s all go,” Griff said. “I’ll tell the crew where we’ll be in case you’re needed.”

  Cass wasn’t sure if she was grateful or irritated with Griff’s taking charge, but her stomach was beginning to rumble, so she let it go.

  FOSTER OUTDID HIMSELF on their late lunch, and it was delicious. When Griff tried to pay the bill, Sid refused his card.

  “These girls are like our nieces,” he said. “We’re devastated about what happened. How long do you think you’ll be closed?”

  “We’re hoping to be open by the weekend,” Sunny said. “It depends on how long things take to dry out and how much damage there is to the floor. The company we’ve called in to restore the place got right on it, so we’re hoping the quick response helps.”

  “Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Sid told her.

  “Will do. Thanks for the lunch.”

  “Our pleasure.”

  After they left, Griff said to Cass, “You obviously can’t stay in your apartment yet. I’d like you to stay at my hotel.”

  “Thanks, Griff, but I’m staying with Sunny—at least for a couple of days. We have a ton of details to attend to, but I appreciate the offer.”

  He grinned. “It wasn’t totally selfless. How can I help you?”

  “There’s really not anything you can do at the moment.”

  “Did you have insurance?”

  “Yes, and the rep has already been here. Everything’s covered—or at least the majority of the damage. Mostly the whole thing is a big pain in the tokus. Thanks for coming by, Griff.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “Am I being given my hat?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “Not exactly, but Sunny and I have a lot to do. We have to talk to our suppliers and put an ad in the paper and…”

  “I got it. Call me if there’s anything I can do. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  “Tomorrow might be better.”

  He nodded and left.

  GRIFF GRIPPED THE WHEEL of his rental car a little too tightly as he drove back to his hotel. Ever since he learned about the damage to Chili Witches, he’d had a niggling feeling about it. This smelled of Walt, one of Griff’s partners. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was a coincidence, but he wouldn’t put it past the guy. Walt was a brilliant businessman, but he was impatient and impulsive. And a master of dirty tricks. His partners wanted that property yesterday. Griff had asked them repeatedly to be patient and let him handle things his way.

  As soon as he got to his hotel, he whipped out his phone and punched the speed dial. Walt answered immediately.

  “Walt, did you have anything to do with Chili Witches flooding?”

  He chuckled. “Me? Now would I do something so appalling?”

  “Hell, yes. In a heartbeat. Back off, Walt.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cass was bone tired when she drove to Sunny’s house that evening; she literally ached and her head felt as if dirt daubers were building nests inside. She pulled into the driveway behind her sister, who trudged toward the door as if she could barely put one foot in front of the other. With the stress and the mess and the mountain of things to do, it had been a killer of a day. Cass hauled her bag from the trunk and trudged inside in the same manner.

  They both headed straight for the couch, plopped down and rested heir heads against the cushioned back. Leo, Sunny’s German shepherd, joined them, nuzzling against Sunny’s leg.

  “I may die,” Cass said.

  “Please don’t,” Sunny said, absently stroking Leo’s head. “I’m too tired to plan your funeral.”

  Cass laughed, then they both got the giggles. The giggles turned into tears. They held each other and wept from exhaustion and despair.

  After they had a good cry, Sunny wiped her nose and said, “Do you ever wonder exactly why we do this?”

  “What? Cry? I think it’s supposed to release some sort of chemicals to make you feel better.” Cass fished a tissue from her purse and blew her nose.

  “No, I mean why are we working so hard to keep Chili Witches going? Sometimes I feel the café has become the center of my life. How did Mom and Aunt Min do it for all those years?”

  “Beats me. I suppose because they loved the place. I never figured I’d end up running it, but let me tell you, it’s better than being a lawyer in New York. Do you hate managing the café?”

  “No, I don’t hate it. In fact, most of the time I enjoy it, but the hours are hard—and will be harder after Ben and I get married. There’s Jay to think of, and I’d like to have children someday. I don’t want to raise them in a playpen in the office or put them in day care and only see them half the week.”

  “We were lucky to have Aunt Min and Mom when we were growing up. It was like having two mothers,” Cass said, “but don’t count on me to babysit. Aunt Min I ain’t.”

  “You don’t want children?” Sunny asked.

  “Do you see me as the domestic type?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. We’re a lot alike, and I can feel the ticking biological clock everybody’s always talking about.”

  Cass rolled her eyes. “The only clock I feel ticking is the one signaling dinnertime, but I’m too tired to eat, much less cook.”

  “I hear that.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “I wonder who that could be?” Sunny glanced over her shoulder. “Want to get t
he door?”

  “Moi? Surely you jest. Nobody knows I’m here, and I wouldn’t get up and go to the door for the Publisher’s Clearing House prize van.”

  Sunny groaned and heaved herself from the couch. “Whoever it is better not be selling magazines.”

  It was Ben McKee with food his sister had sent over. “I’m not staying,” Cass heard him say. “I know you must be tired, and Jay’s waiting in the car. I’ll call later. Or better, you call me when it’s convenient.”

  Sunny came back with a big bag, which she deposited on the coffee table. “I’ll get plates and forks while I’m up. Check out the contents.”

  Cass was just opening the sack when the doorbell rang again.

  “Your turn,” Sunny called from the kitchen.

  Cass muttered a few choice words and plodded to the door. A deliveryman stood on the porch, a large bag stamped with the logo of her favorite Italian restaurant in each hand.

  “Cassidy Outlaw?” he asked.

  “That’s me.”

  “These are for you from Mr. Mitchell.” He handed her the fancy, handled bags. “No tip necessary. Have a good evening.”

  She closed the door with her butt as Sunny asked, “Who was that?”

  “Another care package. This one from Griff.”

  “Did you invite him in?”

  “The deliveryman? Nope. Not my type. He had a nose ring.”

  “Oh, well, add it to the bounty on the coffee table, and we’ll have a buffet. What do you want to drink?”

  “I think there’s a bottle of wine in one of these bags,” Cass said. “Bring glasses and a corkscrew.”

  Her cell phone rang as she was unloading all the sacks of food. Griff.

  “Hi,” she said. “Thanks for the food. It just arrived.”

  “Good. I wanted to check. I would have delivered it myself, but I doubted you were up to company tonight. I hope you enjoy it. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  “Not that I can think of, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “I’ll drop by the café tomorrow to see if you need anything. Eat and get a good night’s sleep.”