Coffee & Crime (2 page)

"We always tip the busboys," Zelda retorted. "What's the matter with you asking those kinda questions?" Zelda did an excellent impression of Manny.

Manny pulled a white hanky out of his back pocket and wiped his face, then pretended a smile. "Oh you're so funny. Make the jokes at Manny's expense. You like to laugh? I got something gonna make you laugh. I got another buyer wants this place."

I choked and spewed hot chocolate across the counter.

Zelda smacked me hard on the back. "Don't listen to him. He's screwing with you. Are you okay?"

I recovered and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay." I pushed her away. "Stop smacking me on the back, you big goon."

Manny snorted and put his beefy hands on his hips. "Ain't no shit. You got competition." He grinned at me and made the wide eyes. "I got an official muy abudante offer, chica."

"Prove it!"

Manny crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't gotta prove nothing."

I jumped out of my seat and backed him up against the counter. "You're lying."

Manny raised his eyebrows and taunted me with a sly smile. "You think so, chica?"

Looking up at the big jerk, I jabbed him in the chest with my finger. "Did you forget that we've got an agreement? You can't sell it to anyone else." I smiled too. "I have it in writing. Signed and notarized."

Manny looked down at me. "We'll see."

I wanted to slug him with the coffee pot, but I held my temper. "Plus, you gave me your word. You saying your word ain't worth a shit now?"

Manny pushed past me and waved his arms around the diner. "My word is my gold, chica. I keep my word, but you gotta keep yours too."

I didn't get the shift in Manny's attitude. He always liked yanking my chain, but this was different. Something had changed and dread snaked in my gut.

He bobbed around like an amateur boxer. "Funny, I don't see your investor guy around lately. What's the matter, he don't like the food no more? He found another chica to give his money to?"

Zelda threw a cream pitcher at Manny. "Bastardo."

He ducked; the pitcher hit the wall, then spattered the stainless counter with little white cream boogers. Manny shook a fist at her. "You better clean that up, Zelda."

"Asshole! You don't have another buyer, and all you do is talk shit. When Scotti gets this place, it's going to be a freaking holiday. You know why? Because she's a real chef. She actually knows how to cook. Customers will stand on line all day for a table when word gets out that they can get great food instead of your slop."

Manny's nostrils flared. "I don't know, Zelda, the people they come, and they eat. Every day. Every week. Somebody likes Manny's slop. You like the tips you get from people who eat Manny's slop?"

Zelda glared at him but said nothing.

Manny shrugged and sang to himself as he did a little salsa into the kitchen.

Once I was sure he was out of earshot, I grabbed Zelda's arm and squeezed. "Another buyer? What the hell does he mean?"

Zelda pried my fingers off her arm. "Jeez Scotti, take a breath. He's messing with you." She flicked a hand toward the kitchen. "Probably thinks if he screws with you enough, you'll pay him more money. It's a bunch of macho bullshit."

She frowned at the spray of hot chocolate and cream on the counter. She reached for a towel then said, "Screw it. Let him clean it up."

I took off my apron, grabbed my purse from the counter, and put on my jacket. "I hope you're right about Manny, but I don't want to take any chances. I want to get that check now and pay him before something blows up in my face. I have to go see George."

Zelda threw on her jacket, grabbed her backpack, and was right behind me. "Good thinking, let's go."

I turned back to her. "No, no, no, you're not coming with me."

Zelda put her hands on her hips. "Oh yes, I am."

"I appreciate the moral support, but I need to see him alone." I nudged Zelda. "This is a business deal
—
I can't drag my best friend with me every time I hit a snag. Otherwise nobody’s going to take me seriously. Right?"

Zelda smirked. "But who's going to drive you?"

"I can drive myself."

"Fine." Zelda stomped to the door, held it open, and pointed outside. "Have fun taking the bus home in the rain, to pick up your car. Hopefully, it'll start." She made a ta-da gesture, pulled up her hood, and walked out.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" I ran after Zelda and caught up to her in the parking lot. "Okay, okay, you can come with me. But you have to promise to stay in the car."

Zelda stared at me over the hood of her beat-up jeep. "What am I, the family dog?"

I raked my hands through my hair. "It's not professional. This is business. Zelda, be reasonable."

Zelda scorched me with a stare.

I huffed and yanked open the passenger door. "Can you at least get me there in one piece? And try not to interrupt me when I'm talking?"

Zelda unlocked the jeep and got in. She turned the ignition, and the engine rumbled to life. Smiling, she patted the passenger seat. I climbed in, belted up, and sighed loudly.

Zelda gunned the engine. "I knew you'd see things my way."

I mimed choking her. "Can we go?"

"What's in George's briefcase?"

"What? I don't know."

"You didn't open it?"

"It’s not my briefcase to open." I waved my hand at the street. "Time's a-wasting."

Zelda backed out of the parking space and nosed toward the exit. "But maybe whatever is in the briefcase will tell you why he’s out of touch."

"Or I could talk to George and ask him why he’s been out of touch." I raked my mop of hair out of my eyes. "Besides we're past that. I need that damn check today. We can talk about hurt feelings another time."

Zelda nodded, pulled into traffic, and headed for Pasadena. Neither of us knowing how hard it would be to talk to George.

Despite the pouring rain, Zelda merged onto the 134 like an old lady anxious to cash her Social Security check before the bank closed. In under twelve minutes, we pulled off the freeway at Walnut, turned at Union, and picked up Colorado Boulevard to get to George's office.

Traffic crawled as drivers wandered Old Town Pasadena for the best lunch experience, trendy furniture and a decent parking space. Made all the slower by the rain, which battered the roof and kept the wipers working overtime.

"God I hate this town," Zelda groaned.

"I didn't force you to come," I reminded her.

Zelda sneered. "Oh right, you'd be crying by now because you couldn't find a parking spot."

Instead of defending my driving skills, I scanned the street for George's building. I pointed. "Slow down, there it is." It was one of those new buildings they'd put up in the last few years
—
a modern gray structure with lots of glass and weird artwork that made no sense to me.

"I see it, I see it." Zelda tapped the brakes and eased into the turn lane.

"We can park in the underground structure
—
George validates," I said.

Zelda turned left into the parking structure, stopped at the gate, got a ticket from the attendant, and zipped through once he lifted the gate. She pulled into a spot close to the elevator, jammed the car into park, and killed the engine. Before I had a chance to release the seatbelt, Zelda said, "So, what are you going to say to George? Hey buddy, Manny's a shit and threatening to sell the diner to somebody else, so could you cut the check now?"

I frowned. "I don't talk like that." But she had a point because I didn't know what I'd say to George. "Why do you always have to say things that freak me out?"

"Because I've been thinking..."

I forced a laugh and made a cross with my two index fingers. "Oh no, Zelda Carter has been thinking. Everybody duck."

Zelda gave me the look.

Dread snaked around in my gut. "What?"

She twisted her lips and sighed. "Manny's probably full of shit, but what if he talked to George?" She stared at me. "Would George tell Manny he was pulling out of the deal? If that's what he was planning?"

I slumped in my seat and that creepy feeling you get when you realize you're in trouble crawled up my spine. I shook my head and looked out the window. "George wouldn't do that. He wouldn't go to Manny behind my back."

"Are you sure?" Zelda asked. "I'm seriously not trying to shit all over your parade here. You know I'm not, but people do crappy stuff. And plenty of crappy stuff has been done to you."

I closed my eyes and fisted my hands. I had no desire to revisit my past, even if it was one I shared with Zelda. All that crap was behind me and I needed to look forward. "George and I have an agreement. Drawn up by a lawyer. It's real and binding. Which we're supposed to sign tomorrow. George wouldn't have gone to all that trouble if he planned to back out, would he?" I glanced at her, afraid I'd see doubt in her eyes.

Zelda punched the steering wheel. "Oh the hell with me. You're right; George is one of the good guys. Manny's the jerk. I know better than to believe his shit." She opened her door. "Let's talk to George."

Zelda climbed out of the jeep but I stayed in my seat.

She leaned in. "Come on, Scotti. I'm just being my little black cloud self. Let's do this." She opened my door and tugged on my arm. "It's good. It's all good, you'll see."

I climbed out of the jeep and let Zelda strong arm me to the elevator. But when the elevator doors opened onto George's penthouse office, the dread I felt became palpable. My first impulse was to hit the down button but Zelda gave me a little push forward. We stepped off the elevator and the office manager Peggy Rizzardini looked up from the reception desk. Her expression confirmed my sense of doom and I stopped mid-stride.

"What's the matter?" Zelda whispered. "Why aren't we moving?"

I flicked a look at Zelda then continued to the desk. "Hi Peggy. Scotti Fitzgerald, remember me?"

Peggy was a pretty redhead in her early thirties. She had jade green eyes that sparkled when she smiled. Her well-tailored navy blue suit complimented her ivory complexion, and was accented with a flash of gold at her ears and wrist.

Peggy stood, took my hand, and smiled but her eyes didn't sparkle. "Of course I remember you. How are you, Scotti?" She squeezed my hand briefly and released it.

I smiled back but my eyes didn't sparkle either because the other shoe was about to drop, and I was bracing myself for it. "Fine, thanks." I glanced around the quiet office. "I don't have an appointment but I was hoping to talk to George for a few minutes. Is he in?"

Peggy's voice cracked. "I'm afraid you can't."

I nodded because I expected George wouldn't be available. "Okay, can I make an appointment? The soonest you can fit me in?" And I knew the question was ridiculous because something was very, very wrong.

Peggy sniffled and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry Scotti. What I mean to say
—
to tell you
—
is that George died two days ago."

I gasped. "What? George?" I gaped at Zelda then back to Peggy. "What happened?"

Peggy pulled at her earring. "Allergic reaction. He went into anaphylactic shock."

I shook my head. "To what? No, that can't be. How is that possible?" My voice went high and pitchy. "He was so careful with his diet and he always had an injector." I couldn't stop shaking my head. "It doesn't make sense."

Peggy nodded, fighting tears. "That's what I said but..." she shrugged." No one knows exactly what happened." Peggy struggled to keep it together. "The janitor found him unconscious in his office and called 911. But they didn't get George to the hospital in time."

I stared at the beautiful deep blue carpet beneath my feet. Blue was George's favorite color.

Zelda put her arm around my shoulder. "Are you okay, Scotti?"

I looked at Zelda then back to Peggy.

"Believe me Scotti, we're all stunned." Peggy glanced around the room as though she didn't recognize it. "Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm doing here. I can't concentrate on anything. Or walk by George's office without bursting into tears..."

I patted Peggy's shoulder because I didn’t know what else to do. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?" But I was asking myself the same question because without George's investment money, I couldn't buy the diner.

Peggy straightened and tugged at her suit jacket. "I'm afraid there isn't anything anyone can do."

"How is George's family? They must be devastated."

Peggy shrugged and daubed her eyes with a tissue. "I don't know - I haven't spoken to them yet. Worse than I am, no doubt."

I ran out of questions to ask so stood there looking at Peggy. It was selfish to think about what George's death meant to my future, but it was the only thing going through my mind. I didn't dare say anything more for fear it would be the wrong thing.

A tall man in an expensive suit and wire rim glasses came up the hallway. "Can I help you?" He wasn't handsome but he had a magnetism that drew you in.