1 Death on Eat Street (12 page)

I laughed at her request. “I’m sorry. It’s what I do. And I’m sorry, too, about your troubles with the police. I’d like to help, if I can.”

“You’re helping plenty. I got myself into this pickle. I’m praying Miguel can get me out. If he doesn’t, it’s all on me. It’s the life I’ve led. I didn’t know any better. Maybe if I have to go away for a long time, I can come out with a degree. I’ve always wanted to fix people’s hair. I think I’d be good at it.”

We spent the next few minutes with her giving me tips on different ways I could wear my curly hair. I knew none of them would work. My mother had tried everything when I was in school. My hair always went its own way. Short of shaving it off and wearing a wig, it always would. I’d come to terms with it.

Customers began to come in fitfully as it got closer to lunch. By ten thirty, we had a line from the window. I could still see people passing us to go to Suzette’s Crepes. I sent Delia out on the sidewalk to give away menus and entice others to come to us instead.

At eleven, another food truck pulled in beside us. It was the Dog House—with the head in the front and the tail in the rear. They sold all kinds of hot dogs and sausages along with French fries and onion rings. The wonderful aroma almost overshadowed my biscuit bowls.

I didn’t know the owner of the Dog House, but I remembered seeing him talking to Terry on Dauphin Street after we’d had our run-in.

I started wondering how well the Dog House man knew Terry. Maybe he could shed some light on what Terry had that may have gotten him killed.

It was a remote possibility. If Delia didn’t know, it seemed unlikely the Dog House man would. Still, Delia was running out of options. As Miguel had said, she needed a hand. It was worth asking.

I asked Delia to come inside the food truck. She went back to the window to take orders. Miguel was frying biscuit bowls, and Ollie was filling them. They wouldn’t miss me for a few minutes.

“I’m going to say hello to the man in the Dog House,” I told them, leaving out the part about asking questions. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You’re doing such a great job. Thanks for your help.”

Miguel wasn’t fooled. He put the next batch of biscuits into the deep fryer and nudged Ollie. “I’m going with her.”

I wasn’t fooled by
him
, either. I saw right away that he was carrying a small gun. He had it in a holster under his jacket.

“I should go,” Ollie said. “You make the food.”

“Ollie, we talked about this,” Miguel said. “I’m not on parole. You need to stay out of trouble.”

I was walking out of the back of the food truck when Miguel came after me, apparently having convinced Ollie that he shouldn’t accompany me.

“What’s up?” Miguel asked. “Did you think of something?”

I told him about the day Terry and I met. “I saw the Dog House owner talking to him later. I thought he might know something about what Terry was into. I don’t know.”

“Okay. You should’ve said that. Don’t try to do anything foolish, Zoe.”

I didn’t think trying to keep Delia from going to jail was foolish. I didn’t say so because there wasn’t time to argue about it. The man from the Dog House was walking toward us as we went around the back of the food truck.

“There you are,” the Dog House man said. “I heard Terry was killed at your place. You don’t know what kind of mess you’re in.”

Miguel got in front of me like a Secret Service agent. His hand went to his gun.

I saw the look on the Dog House man’s face. I knew this could end in a nasty confrontation if I didn’t step in.

“Hello. I’m Zoe Chase, owner of the Biscuit Bowl. I don’t think we’ve actually met, even though I’ve seen you around.” I stuck out my hand and smiled at him.

“Zoe—” Miguel warned in an icy voice.

The Dog House man, however, responded with surprising civility. After a cautious peek at Miguel, he stuck his hand out and shook mine. “I’m Reggie Johnson, owner of the Dog House. Terry told me about you, and all the fun you two had in the back of your food truck.”

“First of all, unless you call me hitting Terry for making a pass at me
fun
, we didn’t have any fun in my food truck. I was thinking you might know why Terry was killed.”

Reggie shook his head. His brown ponytail, which stuck out of the back of his Dog House baseball cap, flopped from side to side. He wasn’t an attractive man. Most of his teeth were missing and he had deep acne scars on his face. He and Terry looked a lot alike—and they both smelled like old grease.

“I might have an idea.” He looked down his twisted nose at me. “What’s it worth to you?”

“Maybe you should tell me what you know and we’ll discuss it.” He wasn’t out-bartering
me.

“How about you trade sites with me today, and I’ll fill you in.” Reggie spit in his hand and held it out to me. “Deal?”

Reluctantly, I shook his hand. I tried not to feel bad about giving up my spot at police headquarters. People would find me anyway. Letting his spit-filled hand touch mine was a whole other thing. I kept reminding myself that there was hand sanitizer in the food truck.

“Okay,” Miguel said. “What do you know?”

Reggie scratched his head under his ball cap. “That day on Dauphin Street, Terry told me that he had something worth a pile of money. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. I asked, believe me. He said he already had a buyer for it. He was selling it that night. It’s probably what got him killed.”

“Did he say what he was selling?” I asked.

“He didn’t give you any indication what the item was or where he’d acquired it?” Miguel questioned.

“Nope. One thing I
do
know—it was in his pocket.”

“You mean a particular pocket?” I started thinking about all the pockets it could have been in.

“I mean—it was
in
the pocket of his jeans. He kept fiddling with it while we were talking. I kept egging him on, hoping he’d show me. No dice. Are you ready to switch places?”

It was what I’d agreed to. I had the spit in my hand to prove it. I told him I was ready. Miguel and I went back to the Biscuit Bowl.

“I don’t think that was much of a deal, Zoe,” Miguel said. “All we learned is that whatever we’re looking for is small. We’re no closer to figuring out what it is.”

“We’re closer,” I disagreed. “We know it’s small and valuable. We know Terry might’ve had it on him when he was killed. We know he was trying to sell it. All we have to figure out is what
it
is.”

“You’re not going to have a very good day with your food truck parked way over there,” Miguel observed.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

What I should’ve said was, let
me
worry about it. I proceeded to do just that. Miguel was right. Customers were less likely to walk farther on a rainy day like this. I’d baked a ton of biscuits and made a boatload of chili. The homeless shelter would eat well that night.

Still, I knew I’d do it again to help Delia. She deserved a break. It could change her life for the better. Marty, at the homeless shelter, had told me many times that an act of kindness could make a difference in the lives of the men he cared for.

If he could make that kind of difference, so could I.

Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to go hungry. There would be plenty of biscuits and chili. I wasn’t sure what Crème Brûlée would eat when he ran out of cat food, especially since he could be finicky at times. I was pretty sure I could convince my father to loan me some money for that. He’d enjoy it a lot better than taking care of my cat for a few weeks.

Reggie backed his Dog House out of his parking place and we switched positions. I saw “Suzette” watching us from the street as we changed places. It probably wouldn’t matter much to him. Reggie’s menu wasn’t a conflict with crepes.

No sooner had we changed spots outside police headquarters than the cloudy sky above us decided to throw buckets of rain our way. The heavy rain swamped the sidewalks and the parking areas, flowing like streams under and around the Biscuit Bowl.

“It might not matter that we switched places,” I said to Miguel from inside the food truck.

We hadn’t even had time to put the tables and chairs back outside.

“What do you do in a case like this?”

I shrugged. “I give it a while, and then I go home. There’s not much else to do.”

“I’m sorry. I know you were hoping this would be a big day for you.”

“Well, at least I didn’t lose anything by taking Reggie’s offer.” I was still cleaning my hands with sanitizer. I wasn’t sure anything less than a hot bath would actually take care of the problem. Too bad all I had at the diner was a shower. I’d have to make do.

“And you may be right about what we learned from Reggie,” Miguel offered. “Knowing that what Terry was trying to sell was small cuts down the possibilities.”

“Thanks. It was the best I could do. Maybe the next person I think about questioning will have more information.”

“I’d like to take you out for dinner, to celebrate even a small break in the case,” Miguel said. “That’s assuming you can clear it with your boyfriend. I wouldn’t want to cause any problems for you.”

My heart was racing. Was this a
romantic
invitation? Was this the chance to learn more about Miguel’s life that I was looking for?

“I wouldn’t want to cause any problems for you by accepting, either.” I smiled at him. “Would
your
girlfriend mind if we went out for dinner?”

“I don’t really date—no girlfriend. Even if I did, she’d have to understand that I occasionally have dinner with clients that happen to be women.”

All my hopes were deflated like a big hot air balloon. In other words, this wasn’t a
romantic
proposal. He was thinking about business, and figuring out how he could help Delia.

On the other hand, he’d said no girlfriend. I figured the no-dating part was only there because he hadn’t met the right person. Also, a business dinner could lead to something more.

“Sounds good,” I accepted. “The way things look right now, anytime would work for me.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

With that settled, we watched the rain, and my business, flow down the streets of Mobile and into the drain. I didn’t wait much longer. The sky looked heavy with water, and the weather forecast was calling for much of the same the rest of the day.

Suzette’s Crepes left before the Dog House. Delia rode back to the diner with me in the Biscuit Bowl, and Ollie rode with Miguel.

Delia had organized that switch. I wondered why—until we left the parking lot and she slapped my thigh.

“Girl, you got it going on with the handsome lawyer. I don’t blame you. Who wouldn’t want to play house with him?”

“It’s only dinner.” I assumed she’d heard our conversation. “Business dinner, at that.”

“I think that’s up to you, Zoe. I could glam you right up and Miguel’s eyes would pop out when he saw you. You’re beautiful. I love your hair, and you have great skin. Let me do this for you. He won’t think about you as a business deal ever again.”

I was tempted. After all, that’s what I wanted. Knowing Delia as I did, I wasn’t sure if that was the right way to go. I wasn’t a
glam
kind of person. Probably more often than I liked to think about, I smelled like old grease, too.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to visit Tommy Lee at the hospital. He’s been texting me like crazy all day. He was trying to help me last night when he was hurt. It’s the least I can do.”

Delia stared at me with knowing eyes. “Now’s not the time to get cold feet, if you know what I mean. You want it, you gotta take it. Maybe if you don’t want my lawyer, I do. You go visit Tommy Lee and think about it.”

I drove back to the diner, thinking about all the strange turns my life had taken since I’d decided to follow my dream. In some ways, I guess I could see why my parents were upset. I’d done some crazy things before, but never anything this drastic. It was as though I’d become another person.

Miguel and Ollie were at the diner, waiting. Ollie had once again opened the door and blocked it for easy access. I didn’t mind him being ready to unload the food truck. He was making it a little hard
not
to become dependent on him.

It was still pouring rain as we unloaded everything. The biscuits and the rest of the chili went to the homeless shelter. Marty thanked me many times over. He took me aside as Miguel and Ollie put the food out for the hungry men.

“I’m sorry if this seems like I’m butting in,” Marty said. “I’m just worried about you, Zoe. You’ve had a lot going on the last few days. I hope you’re okay.”

I thanked him for his concern. “It’s been crazy, that’s for sure.”

“Ollie told me that the man who held the gun on you yesterday was demanding something he thought you’d taken from the other man the police thought you killed.” He smiled and shook his head. “Is that right?”

He looked scared. It made me feel bad that I might have, however inadvertently, brought this into his life. “It’s true, but it’s going to be fine. The police will figure it all out. I might have an idea for them, too.” I told him what I’d found out from Reggie that day. “I know it’s not a lot, but it takes us one step closer.”

“I’m not sure I understand what that means,” he admitted. “I hope things get back to normal for you, and the rest of us. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask. You’ve been such a blessing to the shelter. We’d all like to repay you.”

I thanked him. I didn’t really understand any of it, either. How could I expect him to?

I left the shelter, got everything off of the food truck and in its appropriate places. Ollie, Miguel, Delia, and I were soaked.

I tried to give Ollie something for his time. He refused. I didn’t offer Miguel money, but I thanked him for being there.

“I’m glad nothing unusual happened,” Miguel said. “I’m going home to catch a shower. I’ll see you later.”

Ollie and I stood at the door to the diner, watching Miguel get in his car and leave.

“You know he likes you, right?” Ollie said. “I don’t mean like a client, either.”

A little thrill went through me. Maybe Delia was right. Maybe the business dinner wasn’t only about business. Men have a way of hiding their intentions sometimes. I hoped this was one of those times.

“I like him, too. Not like my lawyer.”

Ollie turned and stared at me. “What about Tommy Lee? I don’t want Miguel to get hurt in some kind of scheme to make your boyfriend jealous, Zoe. Best you make a choice and stick to it.”

He walked casually out into the streaming rain. I watched him go, wondering if he and Delia were either telepathic or had discussed us while Miguel and I were questioning Reggie.

I counted my money when I was alone. I’d made enough to cover my expenses. That was all. Crème Brûlée meowed at me from his bed on the floor.

“We’ll be fine,” I assured him. “You’re not going to starve.”

I think he believed me. He climbed out of his traveling bed and made his way onto my bed where he snuggled down into the sheet and blanket.

It had been a trying day for us both. But there was always tomorrow. All I could do was keep making the best biscuit bowls I could, and hope my dreams came true.

I took a quick shower and changed clothes. I had a flirty little red dress that I sometimes wore to parties. I thought about wearing it now. The problem was that I wasn’t sure if I was going to have time to change after going to visit Tommy Lee. It was perfect for a date with a prospective boyfriend. Not so perfect for an obligatory visit to an
ex
-boyfriend. It could certainly give Tommy Lee the wrong idea.

Instead, I wore dark pants and a jacket that I’d usually reserved for the office. My pink top had a frothy neckline that verged on being flirty. I could wear the jacket when I saw Tommy Lee, and take it off when Miguel came to get me. That seemed like the best idea.

I was careful with my makeup, and packed some of it away in my bag. I could freshen up before I left the hospital. My curls were a little frizzy, even after I’d used gel on them. I sighed. They were going to have to do.

When I was through, I took one last look in the mirror and decided I was as good as I was going to be.

I called a taxi and waited inside until the driver showed up. With my only vehicle being the food truck, I had no choice. Gas was too expensive to drive it all over town.

I pulled the hood up on my rain poncho when the taxi arrived and dashed out of the diner, quickly locking the door behind me. I wasn’t sure where Delia was. Maybe she’d gone down to see Ollie. They’d make a nice couple.