Enemies Closer (11 page)

“The bartender will do for right now. Then we’d like a minute or two with everyone as time permits.”

Carlisle could tell that Eddie Perkins was exasperated. He could barely keep from rolling his eyes as he pulled out a barstool and gestured for her to take a seat. There were several other people at the bar but he had led them to the far end where no one was likely to hear their questions. Declining to sit, the detectives stood until Eddie gave up and walked away. Then Carlisle leaned over and said, “He made us the second we walked in.”

“Our new friend Eddie has some experience with the law.”

“Have a seat,” said the bartender, approaching them. “What can I get you?”

Neither detective sat down. “We’re good,” said Kincaid, flashing his badge once again. “We’re here to ask a few questions about Madeline Gardner.”

“Oh, man,” said the bartender, “yeah, let me get a few drinks for the dining room and I’ll be right back with you.”

“Take your time,” said Carlisle, flashing a charming grin.

When the bartender went back to mixing drinks, Kincaid said, “Flirt.”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s half your age and you’re married.”

“Are you feeling left out, Jerry?” she teased.

“Whatever. I guess you’re good cop tonight.”

“Not with Michelle. I’m looking forward to playing
that
bad cop.”

Kincaid nodded in the direction of the dining room. “Business is booming but Eddie is out of his element.” Michelle’s husband was not handling the dinner rush with grace. He put a finger up dismissively when a couple walked through the door and took a call at the host stand. He kept stopping the waitstaff to ask them questions when they were hurrying hot food or drinks to their tables. He looked like a Tasmanian devil at the ballet.

The bartender returned. “I’m Joe Bailey, bartender extraordinaire.” He smiled straight at Carlisle, who was giving it right back. “Are you sure I can’t get you something?”

“We’re good, Joe. Just here to talk about Madeline Gardner. What can you tell us?”

“I don’t know. I mean, she’s great. Brilliant chef, super nice.”

“Pretty,” said Kincaid, raising his eyebrows.

Joe didn’t take the bait. “Gorgeous! Everybody thinks so. But she’s really cool. She never freaks out, no matter how busy we get, and head chefs can get away with handing out a lot of abuse, trust me. But Maddy never blows her top. She’s always mellow.”

“Nothing bothering her lately?” asked Carlisle.

“Not that I noticed. I mean, she’s in the kitchen and I’m out here, so I guess I might
not
notice. And she’s my boss. She’s friendly, but not my friend.”

“So you don’t know anything about her personal life?”

“’Fraid not.”

“Ever notice a customer paying too much attention?”

“Her sister asked me that too. I didn’t. Although Maddy is kind of a flirt with the customers. They eat it up. She comes out once or twice during a dinner service and checks on tables, does a walk-through in the bar. Makes everyone feel special and then drifts back into the kitchen. People are always trying to get her to stay longer, but she just smiles and laughs and says something like, ‘If I stay here, you’ll never get your supper,’ and then everyone laughs.”

“She sounds charming,” said Kincaid.

“She is. I just don’t understand what happened to her.”

“Business is good?”

“Always. The sister asked about that too. Is there any reason to think it isn’t? I mean, look around.”

“Is it always this busy?”

“Yeah. The bar will pick up in an hour too, but we don’t stay open long past the dining room. Mostly overflow and the cocktail and hors d’oeuvres crowd. I go to school too, engineering at Seattle University, so I didn’t want to work someplace where the bar stays open super late. I do really well just making drinks and pouring wine for the waitstaff.”

“They share tips?” asked Carlisle.

“Yeah, they tip me out a percentage.”

“How do you know they’re being straight with you?” asked Kincaid for no reason other than to antagonize the guy.

Joe looked irritated. “I don’t, but if I think someone’s skimping, maybe I screw up their drinks, or take my time making them. Their customers get upset, they don’t get great tips.”

“Dog eat dog world.”

“The threat keeps people honest, detective.”

“Anyone causing you to slow down his or her service lately, Joe?” Kincaid had a definite edge in his tone now and Joe’s boy-next-door attitude slipped a little more. Carlisle watched him closely.

“No. Everyone here is fair. What does this have to do with Maddy, anyway?”

“Everyone is fair and everyone loves Madeline Gardner. But she’s missing and something ain’t right.”

The two men glowered at each other until Carlisle stepped in again with a soothing tone. “Joe, you said someone didn’t show up tonight?”

He broke the standoff with Kincaid. “Yeah. Susan. She’s the floor manager.” Joe’s expression softened to something like worry. “She just didn’t show up. Michelle called her like ten times and then Eddie came in, and the restaurant got crazy.”

“Is that unusual, Joe?”

“Yes, if unusual means it’s never happened before. Susan is reliable. I didn’t give it much thought until now because we’ve been so busy, but do you think it could have anything to do with Maddy?”

“What do you mean, Joe?”

“I mean, Maddy disappeared, and now Susan doesn’t show up for work and doesn’t even call. That’s a weird coincidence, isn’t it?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, kid,” said Kincaid with a predatory smile.

They asked the bartender a few more questions before Carlisle found Eddie and asked him to start sending the waitstaff their way. The first two servers repeated the same ‘everybody loves Maddy’ routine they’d been getting from everyone they interviewed, but the third had something more interesting to say.

“I’ve only been working here for like two weeks, but I don’t think Maddy and Michelle like each other very much.”

“What makes you think that?” said Carlisle casually, trying not to betray her sudden interest.

“I mean, they just seemed to avoid each other.”

“But they worked different hours, right?”

“Yeah, mostly, but there was still crossover. Maddy would come in to prep for dinner in the afternoon and Michelle doesn’t usually leave until after five.”

Neither detective said anything, waiting for the young woman to go on. She scanned the dining room and was apparently satisfied that none of her customers needed her. She turned back to them. “They would walk past each other without saying a word. Like, obviously looking in opposite directions so they wouldn’t make eye contact. And when they did have to talk, it was really tense and Michelle would make little digs.”

“What digs?” asked Carlisle.

“Like, Michelle would say, ‘I’ll take care of that in the morning,’ and then go, ‘then you can check my work in the evening.’ Like Maddy had been critical of her or something and she was pissed off about it.”

“Any idea what that something might have been?”

“I didn’t really pay attention. Hey, I have to get back to my tables. Gotta keep everyone happy.” She gave them a long-suffering wave as she walked away.

“Well, that was interesting.”

“Indeed.” Kincaid nodded thoughtfully. “I think we should go ask Mrs. Perkins about her relationship with Madeline.”

They walked around the corner of the bar and straight into the kitchen. Michelle was standing by the window checking two hot plates before she put them in the window for pick-up. “Two more pork belly specials!” she called out to her cooks and turned to see that they were all staring at the kitchen door.

Evidently, Eddie hadn’t told his wife they were there because when Michelle saw the detectives standing casually in the doorway her expression went from shock to rage. “What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”

Carlisle had heard worse. “We came to ask why you and Maddy haven’t been getting along.”

Her mouth dropped open and she picked up a towel to wipe her hands. “Take over,” she barked at the sous chef before throwing the towel onto a stainless steel countertop and storming out ahead of the detectives.

They followed her down a hallway and into an office featuring shades of beige under fluorescent lighting. Against one wall sat a taupe upholstered sofa with threadbare pillows and a folded stack of quilts and blankets probably meant for long days and nights at the restaurant. Another wall was lined with metal filing cabinets and pressed against a third was an oversized wooden desk with a twenty-seven-inch Mac, a stack of restaurant supply catalogs, and a litter of papers, envelopes, and coffee mugs.

Michelle perched on the edge of her desk with her arms folded across her chest. She nodded at two plastic folding chairs. “Have a seat.”

The detectives did not sit and she went on, “You can’t just march into my kitchen in the middle of service and lob accusations at me in front of my cooks!”

Carlisle took the lead and with absolutely no sincerity she replied, “I never intended to accuse you, Mrs. Perkins. My apologies if it came across that way. As for our timing, your schedule doesn’t have much impact on our ongoing search for your friend and business partner, Madeline Gardner.”

Michelle glared back at the detective. “Tell me what the fuck you want and then get out of my way, detective. I’m as scared as anybody about Maddy, but I have to keep us in business so that when she comes back, she still has a restaurant.”

“Or she doesn’t come back, and you have the restaurant all to yourself?”

Michelle nearly sputtered, “That’s beyond ridiculous! I’m drowning here without Maddy, and frankly, to suggest that I would hurt my best friend is disgusting.”

“You’ll hire another chef, move onward and upward.” While she spoke, Carlisle perched casually on the arm of the sofa. “It’s hard to go into business with friends and yours wouldn’t be the first friendship to fall apart when money becomes involved. Maybe Maddy started questioning your business tactics, maybe she’s more popular with the staff or the patrons? She’s obviously the better chef, maybe she was getting all of the praise and you were stuck in the background counting receipts in this miserable room.” Carlisle gestured around the depressing office. “Maybe Maddy was too critical of you, even though she doesn’t know the first thing about managing a restaurant? She can run a kitchen, but without you she’s just a chef, not a restaurateur. Wasn’t she appreciative enough? What happened Monday night, Michelle? Did Maddy call you after dinner with her friend in finance with more questions about where the profits were going? Did you decide to shut her up?”

Michelle stood, every muscle in her body rigid with anger, and in a barely controlled voice said, “I hope you’re not wasting all of your time focusing on me, when my best friend needs your help. It’s time for you to go, detectives. I have work to do.”

Carlisle was undaunted. “Just one more thing, Mrs. Perkins – you and Maddy exchanged text messages on Monday night. It must have slipped your mind when we asked when you had last communicated with her.” Smiling mirthlessly, she asked, “What did you talk about?”

Michelle looked at her blankly, then seemed to search her memory. “I think she wanted to make sure we could sit down together this week. Business meeting. I forgot all about it.”

“Do you mind if we take a look at your phone to verify?”

Michelle almost laughed at Carlisle’s request. “After you come in here accusing me? I don’t think so.”

On their way out, Carlisle waved Eddie Perkins over. He ran-walked out of the dining room and met them at the front door. She said, “Where were you Monday night, Mr. Perkins?”

Before her husband could answer, Michelle’s controlled voice came from behind the detectives. “Don’t answer, Eddie. These officers are on their way out.”

Kincaid cordially said goodbye and Carlisle said, “We’ll talk again soon, Mr. and Mrs. Perkins.”

When they were back on the street, Kincaid said, “I think you ruined my rapport with Michelle Perkins.”

“You just smile nice and give her a wink and you’ll have her back. Besides, I was the one busting her balls, you didn’t say anything.”

“Guilt by association.” He gave his partner a toothy grin. “You were great. She’s all riled up and Iverson is going to walk in there, tell her Susan Burns is dead and she’ll fold and tell us everything we need to know. Case closed.”

“Would that it were that easy.”

“Ain’t that the truth? What the hell is going on here, Judy?” He was silent a moment, then said, “I’m afraid Madeline Gardner is already dead.”

“It’s looking more and more likely, Jerry. She’s been gone at least seventy-two hours. We’ve got a dead body from the same restaurant and the list of suspects is getting longer, not shorter, and we’re still guessing at motive, which doesn’t help. Michelle Perkins might be pissed, but she’s also under a lot of pressure running things alone. Her anger could just be legitimate stress and fear and have nothing to do with guilt. She’s right; we can’t afford to focus on her or anyone else. Not yet anyway.”

“At least we can pretty much rule out a stranger abduction. Unless Susan’s death is some kind of stars-aligning coincidence, there’s more to Maddy’s disappearance than some guy off the street throwing her in the trunk of his car. Someone she knows took her and killed Susan.”

They both thought about that for a minute. “I’d better call Iverson and let him know we’re done at Dovetail.”

While her partner called the homicide detective, Carlisle checked her cell for messages. Someone had called from an area code she didn’t recognize. She hit play, put the phone to her ear and heard Clara Gardner’s clear, unaccented voice. The gist of what she was saying hit home and Carlisle was all attention. She saved the message and handed the phone to her partner when he hung up with Iverson. “Listen to this.”

He did.

“When did it come in?”

“Close to an hour ago.”

“The sister found a witness. Maybe she’s not such a pain in the ass.”

Carlisle smiled. “Depends on what she did
after
she found the witness.” She had already hit redial and put the ringing phone to her ear. “Clara? It’s Detective Carlisle.” She listened for a few seconds, then said, “Right. We’re on our way.” To her partner she said, “She’s with Ben Radcliffe. They took the witness to a pub on Second Avenue.”

“Jesus. At least she didn’t bring the witness home with her. And why’s she hanging out with Ben Radcliffe?”