The Cakes of Wrath (13 page)

Edgar shrugged and brushed a lock of platinum blond hair from his forehead. “I didn't see much. There wasn't much to see.”

“Destiny said you recognized the van. Is that true? Any detail at all would help. I'm still trying to figure out why anyone would want to hurt me and I guess that I'm a little jumpy after what happened to Destiny.”

Edgar cut a sharp look at me. “Well, you can relax. I don't think the van's driver was trying to hit you at all,” he said. “I think he was after Destiny.”

The air left my lungs in a
whoosh!
It was a full minute before I could speak again. “But she wasn't even there! She left the meeting earlier. She was with you, right?”

“That's not what I meant. I meant that you were standing there talking to Moose. In the dark it would be easy to mistake you for Destiny.”

That shut me up for another long moment. I mean . . .
really
? I didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. “I don't think she and I look that much alike.”

“Sure you do.” He grimaced and said more softly, “Or you did. You're about the same height and size. Especially from behind, you look just like her.”

Except for the part where I wore actual clothes. He probably meant it as a compliment, but the comparison left a sting anyway. Could he possibly be right? Had this all been about Destiny from the beginning? For the first time since that van had almost hit me, the accident made a sick kind of sense and her supposed overdose suddenly looked even more suspicious. But I wasn't ready to toss my other theories away just yet.

“Can I ask you a personal question? You and Destiny were friends. Was it more than that?”

“We were friends,” he said. “Nothing more.”

I held up both hands to show I meant no harm. “I'm not asking just to be nosy. I'm just wondering how close you were and if you know who might have wanted to hurt her.”

Edgar arched a pale brown eyebrow. “Conducting your own investigation?”

“Mostly trying to get Detective Winslow off my back. He's convinced that I had something against Destiny. He even thinks I supplied her with pills. Which, for the record, I didn't. I barely even knew her! But if the two of you were close, maybe you know if she had enemies.” I paused, debating about how much to say. Finally, I blurted out, “What if the van incident and her death are related? What if you're right and she didn't take that overdose on her own?”

Edgar looked at me for a long time before he spoke again. “I don't know about enemies, but she ran with a tough crowd. Some of those people would kill their own mother for a hit.”

“So she
was
using again?”

He slid a look toward Scotty, who was deep in conversation with Pearl Lee. I didn't think either of them was paying attention to us, but Edgar lowered his voice just in case. “I overreacted before when I said it wasn't possible. The truth is, she struggled with her addiction all the time. She was as determined to stay clean this time as I'd ever seen her, but I guess it's possible that she slipped up.”

I'd seen the proof firsthand. “And Moose had no idea?”

“I don't think so. She wanted her family to think she'd finally kicked it for good. Scotty had already warned her that this was the last time he'd pay for rehab. That's why he moved in with them. He wanted to help keep an eye on her. And Moose told her that he'd file for divorce if she didn't get straight.”

That surprised me. Neither Moose nor Scotty had given any indication that they'd reached the end of the line with Destiny. Neither had said anything about an ultimatum.

“Do you think Moose was serious? Do you think he would have filed for divorce if he'd known Destiny was on drugs again?”

Edgar nodded. “She was convinced of it. She'd run through a lot of their money, wasting it on anything she could shoot up or snort. They almost lost the shop six months ago, and they've been hanging on by a thread ever since. Maybe he wanted to stop her before he lost everything.”

Interesting that Moose had neglected to mention that as well. I wondered if he'd bothered to tell the police. I'd seen his temper flare last night and I couldn't help but wonder what he might have done if he found out that Destiny was putting their livelihood in jeopardy again. Had he made up the story about watching the fight with friends? And what about that cookie dough she'd supposedly bought from a neighborhood kid? There had been two cups on the desk at the Chopper Shop. Maybe Destiny
hadn't
opened the shop alone. Maybe Moose had been with her.

I wasn't sure what to believe, but I didn't have time to think about it. From the corner of my eye, I saw Pearl Lee and Scotty wander off down the street arm in arm. I had more questions for Edgar, but they were going to have to wait. Pearl Lee was much more skilled in the art of seduction than I'd given her credit for, and apparently Scotty was more vulnerable than I'd thought.

I thanked Edgar and hurried after them, still trying to wrap my mind around what he had told me. Had the van driver mistaken me for Destiny? If so, had that same person killed her at the Chopper Shop? And if so, then who? Someone who felt threatened by her for some reason? That could have been her actual drug dealer afraid of exposure, her lover afraid of rejection, her husband afraid of losing everything, or even Aquanettia, afraid of losing the election. If Edgar was telling the truth, both Moose and Scotty had left out some crucial information. Not that they had to be forthcoming with me, but still . . .

And speaking of Scotty, just what was I trying to do as I chased him and Pearl Lee down the street? Which one of them was I trying to protect?

Luckily, Pearl Lee and Scotty only traveled a couple of blocks and I managed to keep them in sight the whole way. They ducked inside the Dizzy Duke, the Zydeco staff's favorite after-work hangout, which disturbed me since it was only eleven, which I thought was too early in the day to start drinking. I followed a few minutes later. By the time I got inside, they were sitting at a table near the front window. Except for a couple of good old boys talking guns at the far end of the bar, they were the only customers in the place.

I thought about hauling Pearl Lee out of there, but two things stopped me. On the one hand, I'd been raised to respect my elders. But on the other, she was acting like a hormonal teenager, and I figured the same rules probably applied; i.e., Pearl Lee was obviously drawn to the allure of forbidden love. Declaring Scotty off-limits would only make him more appealing.

As I hitched myself onto a barstool where I could keep an eye on the lovebirds, I noticed Gabriel doing some paperwork at a table tucked into a corner. Paperwork. Go figure. And here I'd thought he was just a pretty face. Seeing him was one positive in an otherwise not-so-good morning. At least I'd have someone to talk to while I decided what to do.

He grinned when he saw me and abandoned his work. My heart did a little flip-floppy thing, which isn't unusual when he's around. His smile faded, though, when he got a good look at my face. “Tell me the police have caught the sonofabitch who tried to run you down.”

I shrugged. “Not that I know of. Nobody was seriously hurt, so I doubt they're putting in overtime or anything.”

“I shouldn't have left the meeting before you,” he said. “If I'd been there—”

His anger touched me, but really, what could he have done? I flashed a grin. “Unless you have some Spandex and a cape under your clothes, you'd probably just have ended up looking like this—or worse. I doubt Moose would have done the full body slam on you.”

Gabriel snorted and fell silent for a moment, then sent me a slow sexy Cajun smile. “Well, no matter how banged up you are, it's good to see you. But you're drinking early. What's the matter? Having a rough day?”

“Having a rough week,” I said, and cut my eyes toward Pearl Lee and Scotty. They sat knee to knee at the small round table and Pearl Lee was holding Scotty's hands in hers, patting gently as he talked. “I'm supposed to be keeping Miss Frankie's cousin busy at Zydeco and away from men. So far I'm batting oh for two.”

With a laugh, Gabriel slid a coaster onto the bar in front of me. “I wouldn't worry too much. It all looks pretty innocent to me. You want a Coke or something stronger?”

“Coke. Diet. Technically, I'm at work. Plus, I should probably give chase if those two take off again. It's what Miss Frankie would want.”

Gabriel put my ice-cold soda on the coaster before delivering a beer and a glass of white wine to Pearl Lee's table. He stayed there a minute making small talk. I sucked down half the soda and chased it with a handful of dry-roasted peanuts from a bowl on the bar.

After a while, Gabriel stopped chitchatting and came back to the bar. He stood opposite me and said, “So that's Miss Frankie's cousin, is it? How did you end up with her?”

I answered with a rueful grin. “Long story. Let's just say I've learned my lesson about passing off jobs I'd rather not do. I do believe I got the short end of this particular stick.”

“You went up against Miss Frankie,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “What did you expect?”

“You'd think I'd learn, wouldn't you?” I sighed and filled him in on the deal I'd made and Miss Frankie's plan to mend the rift between Edie and her mother. “Not only am I stuck trying to keep Pearl Lee under control, but now I have to keep an eye on Miss Frankie so she doesn't make Edie unhappy. Maybe I should have let that van hit me. It might have been easier to just get laid up in the hospital for a while.”

At the mention of the van, Gabriel turned serious again. “Don't even joke about that. It's not funny. How are you feeling anyway?”

I shrugged. “I'm all right. A little sore, but getting better every day.”

“That's good. So who's in charge of the case? Can whatshisname do anything?”

I reached for more peanuts. “I assume you're talking about Sullivan? He works homicide, which, thankfully, this is not. And anyway, he's out of town.”

“Then what about the other guy? The one who was working with Destiny?”

I almost choked. “How do you know about him?”

“Bartender, remember? I hear things. Also, it helps to be a superhero with supersonic hearing.”

I laughed. “Good to know. Unfortunately, Detective Winslow is not a member of the Rita Lucero Fan Club. I'm almost convinced that he was the one driving the van.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Get this—he thinks I was Destiny's dealer. He probably even thinks I arranged a fatal overdose to keep her from turning me in.
And
he thinks I'm having a torrid affair with Moose.”

Gabriel burst out laughing, which had every eye in the building looking at us. “Sorry,” he said as one by one they turned back to their conversations. “The van almost running you down and Destiny dying like that aren't funny. But the idea of you and Moose . . . It just . . .” He leaned close and whispered, “Should I be jealous?”

“Oh. Yeah. For sure. The man's built like a Mack truck and covered in colorful artwork. Plus, he's married. What's not to love?” I ate a few more peanuts and asked, “How well do you know him?”

“Moose?” Gabriel shook his head slowly. “We've both worked in the neighborhood for several years. We've talked in passing. He comes in for a drink now and then, but we're not exactly buddies. Why?”

“Do you know what their marriage was like?”

Gabriel glanced at Scotty and then back at me. “Why do you ask?”

I propped up my chin with one hand. “Edgar just told me that Moose threatened to divorce Destiny if he caught her using again, but Moose never said a word about that to me.”

Gabriel held up one hand to stop me. “Hold up. When did you talk to Moose?”

“Last night. I thought I should offer my condolences, especially after the way he saved me.”

“Yeah. And? The real reason you went?”

I tried to look outraged, but probably only succeeded in looking guilty. “I wanted to warn him to be careful in case the van driver was trying to hit him. I mean, think about it for a minute. That van comes at us one night and not even two days later his wife dies? I think he'd be smart to watch his back. And that's not the point anyway. The point is that Moose never said a word about threatening to divorce Destiny.”

Gabriel didn't seem impressed by my deductive reasoning. “Do you know for a fact that she was using? Or is that idle gossip?”

I pretended to be shocked. “My aunt Yolanda would wash out your mouth with soap for asking that. Gossip is the devil's workshop.”

“I thought that was idle hands.”

I waved an idle hand in dismissal. “Whatever. All I know is that Destiny showed up at Zydeco the day before she died and I know she was high. What if Moose saw her like that?”

“Divorce is a little different from cold-blooded murder,” Gabriel pointed out. “So Moose was fed up, huh? I can't say I'm surprised. But how did Edgar explain knowing about it?”

“He and Destiny were friends. She told him.”

“Or so he says.”

That was an interesting response. I shifted on my seat so I could see Gabriel better. Which meant I had to take my eyes off Pearl Lee, but I preferred the view in this direction anyway. “Meaning what? You don't believe it?”

“I don't know,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “I'm just thinking out loud.”

“Okay. What do you know?”

“Nothing, really. I'm just not sure I'd take what Edgar Zappa says at face value.”

He definitely had my attention now. “Why not?”

“I don't think he's a fan of Moose's, that's all. They've butted heads in here a few times. Always when they've had too much to drink.”

“Over what?”

Gabriel gave me a long look. “You're doing it again,
chérie
.”

“Doing what again?”

“Getting involved in something you should leave alone.”

I made a face at him. “You're the one who brought it up.”

“I asked you about the van that nearly hit you. You went straight from there to Destiny's death and you're trying to turn it into a murder without even pausing to take a breath.”

“Oh, come on,” I joked. “I'm almost positive I've been breathing the whole time.”

“It's not funny,” he said, and to my surprise, he didn't even crack a smile. “Why don't you tell me what to expect, Rita. Will you be putting yourself in danger again?”

I like the guy. I really do. But sometimes he can be completely unreasonable. Like now. “I wouldn't have to do anything if Detective Winslow wasn't accusing me of selling drugs.”

“And you just can't trust the police to get it right, can you?”

“Have you
met
Winslow?” I could feel the heat of anger rushing to my face. “On second thought, forget I asked. Because if you'd spent even thirty seconds in his company, you wouldn't have to wonder whether or not he'd get it right.”

Everybody in the bar turned to look at us again—at least the good old boys did. I couldn't actually see Pearl Lee and Scotty.

Gabriel moved around behind the bar, putting some distance between us. “Why can't you just let the police do their jobs?”

“Why can't
you
understand that the police aren't interested in doing their jobs?” I snapped. I had one nerve left, and Gabriel was standing right on it. I pushed my glass out of my way and stood. “You know what, Gabriel? It's been a bad week and I don't have the energy to argue with you so why don't we just agree to disagree?” I dug out a five and slapped it on the counter. “Keep the change.”

He shoved the bill back at me. “It's on the house.”

He looked so smug, my last nerve snapped, and resentments I thought I'd buried bubbled to the surface. I tucked the money into my pocket. “Great. Thanks. It means so much more now that I know the Dizzy Duke actually
is
your house.”

Gabriel groaned aloud. “Are you still upset about that?”

“Me? Upset? No! Why would I be upset about the fact that you lied to me for nine months?”

“I didn't lie,” Gabriel growled. “How many times do I have to say that?”

I held up both hands in surrender. “So sorry. You're right. Let me rephrase that. Why would I be upset about the fact that you ‘neglected to tell the truth' for nine whole months?”

He rubbed his face with one hand. “Fine. I'm sorry, okay? It just didn't seem like a big deal.”

“Such a heartfelt apology,” I said. “I feel so much better.”

“At least I know how to apologize.”

Okay. That did it. I had a pithy comeback on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it when I realized that I was looking at an empty table where Pearl Lee and Scotty used to be.

“What . . . where . . .” I searched the nearly empty bar to see if they'd moved to a different spot. They hadn't. “Where did they go?” I demanded.

Gabriel turned away and pretended a sudden interest in something on the counter behind him. “Who?”

“You know exactly who I'm talking about. Where are they?”

He looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “I don't know.”

He looked innocent. Too innocent. Slowly, realization began to dawn on me. “You did that on purpose!”

“Did what?”

“You started an argument with me. You distracted me so they could sneak out. And don't even try to deny it. It's written all over your face.”

Gabriel treated me to another of his sexy Cajun grins. “What can I say? I'm a sucker for romance.”

“Romance? Please! Scotty's in mourning and they've known each other for all of five minutes!”

“And the lady wanted to talk with him alone. Was that too much to ask?”

“Yes!” I said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Miss Frankie is going to kill you.”

“Relax,
chérie
. It's not the end of the world.”

“You'd better hope you're right,” I said, slinging my purse over my shoulder and rushing toward the door. “Because if you're wrong, I'll kill you myself.”

• • •

I was outside ten seconds later, but Scotty and Pearl Lee had already disappeared. I swore under my breath and tried to decide on my next move. Maybe I should just go back to Zydeco and let Pearl Lee surface when she was ready. Just because Miss Frankie wanted me to keep her under control didn't mean I had to break my neck doing it. Pearl Lee was an adult, fully capable of making her own decisions. Even if Miss Frankie didn't agree.