Dead Is So Last Year (8 page)

I took a deep breath. "Speaking of doubles," I said, "you'll never guess who I saw hanging out by Slim's dumpster..."

After I'd let it all spill out, there was silence. I stole a peek at Ryan. He looked lost in thought.

"So what do you think it all means?" I asked.

"I have no idea," Ryan admitted. "But since doppelgangers are doubles of living people, it does mean one thing for sure. It's possible that your dad—your real dad, not the imitation—is still alive."

"Do you really think so?" I was afraid to hope.

Ryan looked doubtful. "I don't know, Daisy," he said. "If you see this guy again, please call me or my dad. The council can find out for sure if it's your real dad or just a doppelganger."

"You have a point," I admitted. Now was not the time to throw caution to the wind, no matter how much I wanted it to really be my dad.

I kissed Ryan good night and assured him again I'd call him if I saw the mysterious man. But in my heart, I wasn't sure
what
I would do if I saw my dad again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I had the early shift
at Slim's the next day, which meant I should have gone to sleep immediately after the meeting. Instead, I lay awake thinking about what Ryan had said. Was it possible that my father was alive and well? Then, why hadn't he contacted us?

I must have finally fallen asleep, because I jerked awake when the alarm rang. I'd been having a marvelous dream, in which the entire Giordano family was reunited with my father.

I made it to Slim's on autopilot. Though I was barely awake, I managed to notice Flo's T-shirt, which read
I AM THE EVIL TWIN.

Despite an extra-large latte, I was practically sleepwalking through the lunch rush.

Even Slim noticed. "Daisy, are you all right?"

I smothered a yawn. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you just put nuts in that salad. Mr. Webster ordered it without. He's allergic."

"Oh, my gosh!" I set the salad aside and started a new one. "It'll take me just a minute."

"It's okay," he said. A spatula pointed me toward the front. "Get yourself a cup of coffee. I can handle it for a bit."

I grabbed the largest coffee cup I could find and headed for the pot. My back was turned away from the door, but I heard it open and then Flo's gasp.

"Daisy, is that you?" There was something familiar about the voice. I turned as a tall dark-haired man in a suit approached the counter. I suppressed a gasp of my own. My father's face stared back at me. "Can I help you?"

"It's me, your father. Don't you recognize me?"

The jukebox kicked on. The song playing was "Lips Like Sugar" by Echo and the Bunnymen. Coincidence? I remembered the harpy had said that doppelgangers loved sugar.

Lil was definitely trying to tell me something. "How do I know you're my father?" I asked. He didn't look like the desperate guy who had been dumpster diving the other day. He was clean and well-dressed.

"The first thing you ever cooked was pancakes. And you burned them."

But he had eaten every bite, I remembered, and then taught me how to use the stove properly. I relaxed a little. I figured he would, too, if I got him some refreshments.

"Can I get you something?" Test number one.

"Black coffee, please."

"Would you like a donut with that?"

His eyes jittered to the display case, but his expression remained serene. "No, thanks. Just the coffee, please."

I bent under the counter, where we kept our coffee cups, and caught a whiff of his cologne. It sent a pang through me. It was a smell I'd never forget. Dreamer by Versace. Dad had worn it as long as I could remember.

I set the cup in front of him and poured it, then scooted the sugar container closer to him. He passed that test, too, when he carefully chose three packets of sugar and stirred them into his coffee. A tiny bloom of hope grew in my chest. That was exactly how my dad used to take his coffee. He used to let me put the sugar cubes in his cup for him when I was little.

"Where have you been? Why haven't you been in contact with us?"

"My memory is fuzzy," he replied. "I'm not sure exactly what happened. I guess I must have been unconscious ... And when I woke up, I was being dumped out of a van onto the beach here in Nightshade. I don't remember where I was or who I was with before that. I was so confused. I slept under the boardwalk and ate out of dumpsters for days. It took me a while, but I started to regain memories of my life in Nightshade. But there are still big gaps."

Amnesia? Or maybe his faulty memory was just a cover.

Before I had time to think about it, I was in his mind. I caught a glimpse of a tiny room without windows and a voice saying, "I'm not done with you yet." The memories whirled through my consciousness. He was knocked on the head and abducted. I jumped out of his mind when I started delving into his memories of when I was a kid. It hurt too much to remember how happy we were then.

His voice interrupted my rummaging in his memories. "You've grown up. I barely recognized you," he said. I wondered if he knew I had psychic powers. I doubted it. When I last saw him, I hadn't had any abilities.

I certainly didn't look the same as I did when I was twelve. But to me, he looked like the same old dad.

But if he remembered where he was held captive, why was he pretending he didn't?

Without thinking, I snapped, "It's not like the world stopped when you went away." I felt a pang of regret immediately after saying it. My long-standing bitterness about his absence was slipping out.

"No, of course not," he said softly. "How is your mother?"

"Why haven't you called her to tell her you're back? She's never changed her cell phone number." She didn't want to, just in case he somehow decided to contact her.

I realized that I was talking much too loudly when I saw Flo's face. She grabbed a rag and began wiping down the stainless steel, but I knew she was listening to every word.

He shrugged. "I told you, there are gaps in my memory. I don't remember her number. And besides, I heard she was in Italy for the summer. I'd rather just wait until she gets home so we can talk in person."

"But she's your wife," I said, trying to keep my voice down. To my amazement, he wasn't paying attention to me. He was staring at the clock behind me above the wall.

"Am I keeping you from something?" I said sarcastically.

"No, it's just, this isn't the place for this discussion. We'll talk later, at home." He carefully adjusted his wristwatch and, before I could speak, threw a bill on the counter and walked out.

Unbelievable.

"Was that your father?" Flo's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Apparently." But I wasn't sure. My memories of my father had faded over time.
Wait—he said we'd talk at home?
I
really
needed to talk to Poppy and Rose.

I kept getting Rose's voice mail but reached Poppy and gave her a brief summary of the conversation I'd just had.

Poppy was supposed to pick me up after work, so we decided we'd head to the university after that. Rose was bound to be there; she'd been spending every extra minute at the lab lately.

I went back to the kitchen. The orders had backed up a little while I'd been chatting with ... who exactly? I thought about the identity of the person calling himself my father while I helped Slim cook, but I didn't find any answers.

After my shift finally ended, I told Poppy all about what had happened.

"Why didn't you make him wait until I could get there?" she asked.

"He took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting him to stroll into Slim's, you know. I'm not even sure it
was
Dad, especially not with all those doppelgangers running around town."

"What if it is?"

"Let's find Rose first. Then we'll figure out what to do."

When we got to the lab, it was locked up tight, but I could hear raised voices on the other side of the door. It sounded like they were arguing about something.

The knob turned and I stepped back as Mrs. Mason stormed out, with Dr. Franken at her heels.

"Come back here, Matilda!" Dr. Franken shouted, but Mrs. Mason ignored her and hurried down the hall and out of sight.

The professor's expression was unreadable, but I noticed that her hands clenched and unclenched rapidly. She didn't even notice us until Poppy peered into the lab's open doorway.

"Stay away from there," Dr. Franken said sharply. Then she recognized us and added, "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that there's highly sensitive research in the lab. You're Rose's sisters, correct?"

"Yes, we'd like to speak to her if it's at all possible," Poppy said in a quietly respectful tone.

"Wait here, I'll go get Rose," she replied, then entered the lab and closed the door firmly behind her.

We cooled our heels in the hallway until Rose finally appeared, wearing her white lab coat.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"We need to talk to you. Privately."

"Daisy, I'm in the middle of something big. Can't it wait?"

"It's important," Poppy replied. "Really. But we can't talk here." I glanced at her. Was she as creeped out as I was by Dr. Franken?

Rose looked at her watch. "Meet me at the food court in half an hour."

"Rose, Rose?" Dr. Franken's voice called out. "Where is that girl?"

"I've got to get back," Rose said. "Half an hour." She didn't wait for an answer, but strode back into the lab without a backward glance.

Poppy and I walked to the student center. There were quite a few more people on campus today, including, evidently, good-looking frat boys. Poppy guy-watched appreciatively.

When we got to the food court, I ordered an extra-large vanilla latte for me and sodas for Poppy and Rose.

Rose rushed in about forty-five minutes later, after Poppy had managed to finish her soda and order another one, plus an order of onion rings.

"I can only stay for a minute," Rose said. "Something set Dr. Franken off this morning and she's in a tizzy. I don't dare stay too long." She grabbed an onion ring. "I'm starving. I didn't have time for lunch today."

She looked from Poppy to me expectantly.

There was no good way to break the news. "Dad's in town," I said. "I had a visit from him at Slim's today."

Rose's mouth dropped open. "You mean it's really him?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I think he's going to move in. He said he'd see me at the house later."

Rose looked at her watch. "I know Dr. Franken needs me, but I can't let you two go back there alone," she said. "I'll just have to call her and tell her I had a family emergency and I need to take off the rest of the day."

"Do you think it could really be Dad?" Poppy asked after Rose made her call. There was a tiny bit of hope in Poppy's voice.

"It could be, but we should wait to tell Mom until we're sure. There's no sense in getting her all upset if it turns out it's not even him."

"So what should we do in the meantime?" I asked as we hurried to the car.

"We'll go home and entertain him, whoever he is," Rose said. "And we'll try to find out who he really is. We can't get too close to him before we know for sure."

"This feels wrong," Poppy said. "If he's our dad, we should be welcoming him home with open arms."

Rose thought for a moment. "We'll tell him that we need time to reacquaint ourselves with him. Break it to him gently."

But it turned out we didn't have to worry about the right way to tell him. When we got home, the house was empty. It looked like our father had vanished again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I had to work
at Slim's the next day, as well. When I got there, the lights were off and the front door was still locked. Not like Slim at all. If he was going to be late, he always made sure to call me or he asked me ahead of time to cover for him.

I went around to the back door and was alarmed to find that it was wide open. I entered cautiously, but there was no sign of a break-in or any damage. There was also no sign of Slim. It was hard enough to tell if he was around during the best of times, but how exactly did you look for someone you couldn't see?

"Slim?" I called, wondering if this was another test. I quickly dismissed the idea. The ovens were cold and the counters were empty. Slim would never mess with the diner's schedule, and as my watch told me, there was less than half an hour before the diner was supposed to open.

I went to the tiny office, found an employee phone list, and dialed Slim's number. There was a pile of candy wrappers on the desk, next to the phone.

I let it ring several times, but Slim didn't pick up. Would it kill him to join the twenty-first century and get an answering machine?

Finally, in desperation, I dialed Flo's cell.

"What?" Flo sounded cranky and I couldn't blame her. She wasn't due in for hours.

"It's Daisy. Sorry to wake you, but Slim's not at the diner this morning and nothing's been prepped. I can handle the kitchen, but I'm worried about him."

She sighed. "I'll be right in. And Daisy, don't worry about him. I'm sure he's just fine." There was an edge in her voice. She hung up without saying goodbye, but I couldn't really blame her. She'd worked the late shift the night before. What was going on with Slim? And why wasn't Flo more worried about him?

I didn't have time to analyze the situation. The restaurant had to open.

I hurried back to the kitchen and examined the specials board. There wasn't enough time to prepare the vegetable quiche Slim had planned. I wiped the board clean and printed
VEGETABLE OMELET
under
SPECIALS.

Our regulars would start a riot if we didn't serve Slim's melt-in-your-mouth cinnamon rolls. I fired up the oven and crossed my fingers that we had enough dough.

When I went to the refrigerator to check, it was wide open, and food containers were strewn all over the floor, including the pan with today's cinnamon rolls. There were only a few globs of dough left on it.

I had barely processed what the mess meant, when in the next room, the jukebox sprang to life, blasting the Archies' "Sugar, Sugar." My heart began to pound. Was someone in the restaurant?

I grabbed a knife and crept to the dining room, staying low, to hide behind the counter. Despite the loud music, I could hear a rustling at the end of the counter. I crouched lower and squeezed into a little nook beside the icemaker, where I wouldn't be seen during what I was sure must be a robbery in progress.

From where I crouched, I could see the lower half of the intruder's body. He looked like a big guy. His shoes looked familiar. His pants, too. Ryan's dad always wore shoes and pants like that. Those were cop clothes.

Feeling a little safer, I edged out of my hiding place and stood up. I was shocked to see Deputy Denton single-handedly consuming all the goodies in Slim's rotating dessert display case.

He saw me and dropped a gloopy handful of lemon meringue pie. He tried to speak but his mouth was full. I knew right away that I'd have to use a different kind of weapon against this intruder.

Luckily, the police station was right across the street. I grabbed a sugar shaker from the counter and approached the Deputy Denton look-alike, brandishing the sugar in front of him. He stared at it as if hypnotized.

I poured the sugar on the floor and moved backward toward the door. Deputy Doppelganger followed the trail, only pausing to grab a handful of mints from the bowl next to the cash register on his way out.

I kept the sugar trail going across the street, which, fortunately, was not busy at that early hour. When we entered the police station, Chief Mendez looked up from his desk.

"Daisy? Deputy Denton?" he said, looking confused.

"That isn't Deputy Denton," I said, holding up the sugar shaker. "It's a doppelganger."

The chief moved to grab the doppelganger before he could getaway."I knew there was something wrong when Deputy Denton came into work so early this morning and took the master keys."

I blushed. I knew the keys the chief was talking about. They opened every door in town, and Ryan and I had used them a few times to get into places we weren't supposed to be. That explained how Deputy Doppelganger had gotten into Slim's.

Chief Mendez plucked the keys out of the offender's pocket and led him back to the small station's single holding cell.

"Thanks, Daisy," the chief said when the doppelganger was locked up tight. "You did a great job getting him here."

"No problem," I said, then looked at my watch.
Yikes.
"I'd better get back to work."

As I hurried toward the door, I passed the real Deputy Denton on his way into work. His eyes widened when he saw his double in the holding cell. "What the..."

I didn't stop to explain. I had a lot of cleaning up to do at Slim's.

Back at the diner, I scrambled to sweep up the dessert-splattered floor. Luckily, there was some extra dough for cinnamon rolls in the back of the fridge that the doppelganger hadn't discovered, so I quickly prepped the rolls and slid them in to bake. I chopped vegetables for the omelets, then hurried to the front to start a pot of coffee.

I tried to remember what else to do to prepare for the breakfast rush, but my mind was blank. Slim was usually there to walk me through it.

I checked my watch again. When was Flo going to get here? I cringed when I saw a line of customers outside the front door already waiting for the restaurant to open.

It was like a bad dream. All I needed now was for Wolfgang and the football team or the cheerleaders to show up and my day would be complete.

I checked the clock over the cash register. There was no help for it; it was time to open. To my surprise, Mrs. Mason, Natalie's grandmother, was first in line.

"Quit dilly-dallying, girl, and get me some coffee," she barked as I unlocked the door and turned the sign to
OPEN.

"It-it's not ready yet," I stuttered.

"Why not? Young people have no sense of responsibility these days."

"Ease up on Daisy, Mrs. Mason," Flo said, as she slipped inside, behind the older woman. "Slim didn't show up this morning."

Mrs. Mason didn't answer, but I noticed her chilly expression thawed a bit. "Is my granddaughter here this morning?"

"Not yet," Flo answered, "but I expect she'll meet Slim for breakfast."

As if on cue, Natalie strolled in and gave everyone a bright smile. "Good morning, everyone." But then she spotted her grandmother and her spine slumped. "Grandmother, what are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet your own flesh and blood?" Mrs. Mason replied. "I came here to speak to you, since you do not have the decency to return my calls."

"I thought Natalie lived with her grandma," I whispered to Flo.

"They had a fight, so she's been spending a lot of time with Slim," Flo replied.

Mrs. Mason said, "I'd like a cinnamon roll when you two are done gossiping."

"The cinnamon rolls aren't done yet," I told Flo. "What are we going to do?"

"Improvise," she said. And that's exactly what we did. I managed to keep Mrs. Mason happy by promising her a free cinnamon roll, once they came out of the oven.

About an hour later, I was in the kitchen, taking out the second batch of rolls, when I heard the back door open, and then Slim's cheerful whistling filled the kitchen.

"Daisy, you're a lifesaver," he said. "Could I trouble you for a cup of coffee from the front?"

I nearly dropped the pan. "Sure, Slim."

"I'll frost the rolls while you do that. Extra cream, please."

I hurried to the front, where Flo was manning the cash register.

"He's here," I said. "And he's
whistling."Slim
was not a whistler.

"Did he say anything?" she asked me as she handed change to the customer. We kept our eyes focused on his back as he exited the restaurant, but I knew we were both dying to stare in the direction of the kitchen. Invisible man or not, my curiosity was killing me. Where had Slim been and why was he so cheerful?

"Just thanks and that he'd like a cup of coffee."

"Slim's back?" That from Natalie.

Flo and I exchanged glances. Not to be shallow, but dating an invisible man was bound to be complicated. I waited until Natalie was out of earshot.

"What's going on with Slim?"

"He's doing some undercover work for the council. It must be going well, because he's in a better mood than I've seen him all month."

"Deep undercover, obviously." I giggled.

"Something about the doppelgangers," Flo said quietly, after a quick glance at Mrs. Mason, who seemed absorbed in her breakfast. "That's all I know. He's being secretive." She slammed the cash register drawer shut.

I paused. "I think someone may be on to him," I whispered. Then I told her about discovering Deputy Doppelganger in the diner earlier that morning.

"Maybe he just wanted some pie," Flo replied, eying the empty dessert display case.

"Maybe," I said. "But things looked out of place in the office and there were candy wrappers all over Slim's desk."

She frowned. "It's probably nothing," she finally said, "but you should mention it to Slim, just in case. But not in front of Natalie."

"Okay. I'd better get back there." I grabbed a couple of mugs and filled them with coffee before hurrying back to the kitchen.

I handed Slim his cup, then remembered. "I forgot your cream."

"Don't worry about it, Daisy. There's milk in the walk-in."

I remembered Flo's advice and gave Slim a quick rundown of what I'd observed that morning. I was too busy to dwell on Slim's extracurricular activities any longer, but I did notice that throughout the morning, nothing got to him. Not when I overcooked Mr. Bone's steak and scrambled instead of fried his eggs, not when Flo broke a half-dozen plates, and not even when the dishwasher called in sick. Slim just kept whistling.

It was kind of annoying, actually, especially when Natalie kept shooting him lovesick looks when she thought no one was watching.

After my shift was over, I found a message on my cell from Rose, telling me to hurry home.

When I walked into the living room, Grandma Giordano was there. My grandma was tall and thin, with deep-set brown eyes. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of silver and she wore a pair of trousers, which fit her perfectly, and a cream silk blouse. I'd never seen my grandma in a pair of shorts, even on the hottest day.

Her gaze focused on the door behind me.

"Where is he?" My sisters and I exchanged glances.

"He's..." I hesitated.

"Did you think my own son wouldn't call me? I've already heard the news. It's all over town. Where is he?"

"Grandma," Poppy said, "we're not sure it's Dad."

"Of course it is. Do you think I wouldn't remember my own son?"

Our cautious, rational grandmother had completely lost it. I took a deep breath. "You had to have heard about the doppelgangers?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with your father?" I recognized that stubborn look. It was the same one I'd get on my face occasionally.

"Maybe nothing, but we want to be sure it was him. Something seemed off when he visited me at Slim's."

"Off how?" Grandma sounded defensive.

"Why hasn't he contacted Mom?"

"Your mother is in Italy. He wants to talk to her face-to-face. Wouldn't you?"

She had a point. My memories of my dad had faded. And I didn't have the heart to extinguish that hopeful light in her eye. Evidently, neither did Poppy or Rose.

A key turned in the door, and a second later, Dad strode into the room. "Girls, I'm home!" he said cheerily.

A key chain with
world's greatest dad
on it dangled from his hand. I gasped. I remembered giving him one just like that for Father's Day when I was nine.

"Poppy," he said. "You've cut your hair." When my father left, Poppy still had hair down to her waist.

That stopped her in her tracks, but she recovered swiftly. "That long hair was a pain to take care of, Dad."

I could see that Poppy's resolve to keep Dad at arm's length until we were sure about his identity was fading fast. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so glad you're back," she cried, and rushed toward him. He embraced her in a rather stiff-looking hug.

As he hugged my sister, I studied his face carefully. He'd always been handsome, but age had added distinction to his good looks.

"And Rose," he said when Poppy finally let go of him, "I can't believe how you've grown. You're a woman now."

Rose shifted uncomfortably and mumbled a hello.

"Rafe, it's been so long," Grandma said.

"I know, Mama, and I'm sorry," he said. He embraced her, and I could see tears in Grandma's eyes.

"We have a lot of catching up to do," Dad said. "Do you mind if we go outside? Confined spaces make me nervous."

"Of course," Grandma Giordano said. "You poor thing. Locked up all that time." The two of them strode arm in arm out to the backyard.

I rolled my eyes. You could hardly call our spacious living room "confined."

After they were out of earshot, Rose said in a low voice, "What are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do, not as long as we don't know for sure who this guy is."

"What if he is Dad?"

"It's possible," I said.

"He had a key, Daisy," Poppy pointed out. "And it worked. He even had the same key chain as Dad. If it's not him, how do you explain that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, but the timing is suspect."

"Not necessarily," Poppy replied. "Maybe there's a reason he hasn't shown up until now. Like, he didn't know what kind of reception he'd get. He has no way of knowing that Mom has been—"