Dreams Adrift (A River Dream Novel) (8 page)

Mr. DeLuca’d made a sour face. “Who do they
think they are? How is it teachers are even being paid enough to
dine in my restaurant? I will let them know that they should be
grateful for the privilege and should mind their
manners.”

I pieced together what happened next from
several different versions of the story I heard after the
fact.

The waitress had just finished taking the
drink orders when Mr. DeLuca stormed in.

“
I don’t know who you people think
you are, but you do not come into my restaurant making demands of
my staff. You are only teachers, after all. It is a crime that you
are even paid enough to think about being able to dine here at my
establishment. Now, you sit there and mind your manners and be glad
I have decided to let you stay.”

Maeve and the rest of the staff sat there
dumbfounded. Never had they imagined anyone would ever speak to
them that way, especially not a business owner who they thought
would appreciate their trade. Mr. McHale certainly wasn’t going to
sit idly by while his staff was abused so.

“
Now see here, DeLuca, we’ll save
you the trouble of deciding to let us stay. We’re
leaving.”

Mr. DeLuca shook his head slowly, a look of
imperious condescension on his face. “Oh, I think not. We have
already begun preparing your meals. You will not leave until you
have paid for each and every one.”

Ten

At that opportune moment, I walked in, in the
company of two detectives from the Wilmington Police Department
whose wives taught with Maeve at the high school. The senior
detective, Jason Lewis, whose brother had played with me on the
soccer team, realized there was some kind of situation
brewing.

“
Is there some kind of a problem
here?” Jason asked Mr. DeLuca.

Mr. DeLuca turned his arrogant gaze on Jason.
“And just who are you?” he sneered.

“
Detective Sergeant Jason Lewis,
Wilmington PD,” responded Jason in a courteous and professional
way.

“
Very well, detective, I want
these…teachers…arrested.” Mr. DeLuca said teachers as if it left a
bad taste in his mouth.

Jason kept a straight face only through an
enormous effort. He carefully avoided making eye contact with his
wife. “Just what have they done, Mr. DeLuca?”

Mr. DeLuca put his hands on his hips and
sputtered, “They are trying to leave without paying for their
meals.”

“
What meals? Have you folks had
any meals?” Jason asked the teachers. Looking around the banquet
room, he noted, “There are no plates on the tables.”

Mr. DeLuca practically snorted, “Of course
there are no plates on the tables. They haven’t been served
yet.”

His tone made it plain he thought Jason should
have figured this out on his own.

Mr. McHale, knowing exactly who Jason, Paul,
and I were, stepped forward. “As a matter of fact, detective, we
haven’t even ordered yet.”

Mr. DeLuca's eyes flashed. “You just shut your
mouth,” he commanded Mr. McHale.

Mr. DeLuca turned on Jason, “Call in a paddy
wagon or whatever you have to do, detective, but I demand you
arrest all of them.”

Jason took a deep breath to compose himself
before saying, “Mr. DeLuca, you want me to arrest a room full of
teachers because they have not paid for food you haven’t even
prepared, for meals they haven’t even ordered? Is that
correct?”

“
Yes!” Mr. DeLuca said
emphatically, apparently glad the cop finally understood the
situation.

Jason looked around the room, finally catching
his wife’s eye. She was trying to hide a smile. We all wondered if
Mr. DeLuca had any idea at all of how ridiculous he sounded. I
looked at Maeve, but she wouldn’t look my way. Later she said that
she was afraid if she looked at me she would start laughing and
wouldn’t be able to stop.

Mr. McHale wasn’t laughing. I thought he was
going to explode, and realized I needed to do something.

“
Sgt. Lewis, I think I should take
Mr. McHale here outside and get his side of the story.”

Jason looked at me in confusion at first.
After all, I wasn’t a cop. But he went along.

“
Good idea, Lanier. Detective
Patrick and I will stay here and keep an eye on the rest of these
suspects.”

Jason barely managed to keep a straight face
as he said this. Mr. DeLuca stood there fuming. The teachers were
talking quietly among themselves. They all knew who Jason, Paul
Patrick, and I were, especially that those two were
cops.

Mr. McHale wasn’t sure what to think, but he
followed me outside. “Michael, when did you join the Police
Department?”

I looked back toward the banquet room to be
sure we were out of earshot. “About thirty seconds ago, sir. I
think I’ve been deputized by silent consent. Mr. DeLuca doesn’t
know that. Come on, let’s you and I go use the payphone. I assume
you won’t be staying here for lunch.”

Mr. McHale made a derisive noise deep in his
throat. “You assume correctly, young man. Who are you going to
call?”

There was only one person I could think of who
could handle a group like that on short notice, Alfred
Dupree.

“
I am going to call an old friend
of mine. Your staff wanted Italian. I hope they’ll settle for
pizza.”

I called Alfred and asked him if, as a
personal favor to me, he could make up enough pizza to feed the
staff at Laney High and do so in the next hour. All he asked was if
they were coming there or if I needed them delivered.

“
I can’t imagine you’ve got room
for all of them,” I said.

“
Nonsense, Michael. The lunch
crowd has started thinning out. You bring them over, and I’ll have
a place for them,” Alfred assured me.

“
Thank you so much for this,
Alfred. I really owe you one.”

“
Don’t be silly, Michael. It’s the
least I can do for such a good friend as you.”

Mr. McHale seemed relieved to hear the
situation had been taken care of, at least that part of the
situation.

My next call was to my father. “Dad, I need to
know the details of Mr. DeLuca’s lease on the Primavera’s
building.”

“
What in the world for, son?” my
father asked, surprise evident in his voice.

If I was going to get the teachers out of
there before the situation became any more ridiculous, I couldn't
take the time to go into detail. “I promise I’ll explain later. I
just need to know if there’s anything in the terms that would allow
me to evict him.”

Astonished, my father said, “You want to evict
him? What’s going on?”

“
I promise, Dad, I’ll explain
later. Right now I just need to know if there is a clause or
something that will allow me to threaten him with
eviction.”

My father, trusting that I knew what I was
doing, asked me, “Has he damaged the building, done something
illegal, impaired his ability to do business in some way that would
keep him from being able to pay the rent? I’m not sure of the exact
terms of his lease, but those are fairly standard
things.”

Nodding to myself, I replied, “Oh, you could
say he has impaired his ability to do business. Once word gets out
of how he treated the Laney teachers today, he may never get
another customer through the door. Thanks, Dad, I have to
go.”

Mr. McHale was eying me skeptically as I hung
up the phone. “Michael, I know you have connections, but how are
you going to evict DeLuca?” Disdain dripped from his voice as he
said the restaurateur’s name.

I gave him a brief explanation. “It’s easy,
Mr. McHale. I own the building, and Mr. DeLuca just severely
impacted his ability to meet the rent in a very negative
way.”

“
Oh.” That was all Mr. McHale
said, but a big smile spread across his face.

I told him that as soon as he could get the
staff back on the bus he should take them to Dupree’s Pizza. Alfred
would be expecting them. Then it was time for me to have a little
fun.

As Mr. McHale and I returned to the banquet
room, we heard Jason trying to explain to an irate Mr. DeLuca why
he couldn't arrest the teachers.

“
Mr. DeLuca, sir, please
understand that you have no cause to arrest anyone here. It isn’t a
crime to change your mind about eating at a restaurant.”

Before Mr. DeLuca could respond, I
intervened.

“
DeLuca,” I said, harshly and with
deliberate disrespect, “you have more important things to worry
about right now than this fine group of educators. You need to
start trying to find another location for your
restaurant.”

Eleven

Mr. DeLuca turned toward me so fast he almost
lost his balance.

“
What do you mean? Who do you
think you are? You’re just a lousy cop.”

I felt a chilling smile cross my face. “That
was probably a poor choice of words, DeLuca. I am not a police
officer, nor did I ever claim to be. I merely offered to take Mr.
McHale to the other room as I needed to talk to him. If I were a
cop, however, I could probably make a good case against you for
unlawful detention. Several good cases in fact, as many cases as
there are teachers in this room.”

I turned to Jason and asked him, “Am I right
about that, Sergeant Lewis?”

“
I’m sure the District Attorney
would want to at least look into the allegations, should any of
these fine educators choose to press the issue,” Jason said with a
barely suppressed grin.

Confusion showed on Mr. DeLuca's face. “What,
what, wait a minute here! Who are you then, if you’re not a
cop?”

At that point I knew I had him. “That, DeLuca,
I think we should discuss in private.”

Something in my tone must have gotten through
that thick skull of his. “Very well, we will go to my
office.”

There were some things I wanted made clear
first. “And the teachers, they are free to go,” I asked, “without
any more threats or accusations?”

Mr. DeLuca did not look as though he liked
that idea. “Yes, alright, get them out of here. I won’t press
charges.”

Jason looked at me with a puzzled expression,
but Mr. McHale took him aside and whispered something to him. Jason
looked up and gave me a nod. Paul began ushering the staff out the
door. Maeve started to come over to me, but I waved her off. I
mouthed to her that I would tell her later. She shrugged and
followed the rest of the staff out the door.

At least there had been no other customers in
the restaurant. Primavera’s usually only opened at lunch time for
special parties - parties like a teacher’s luncheon.

Mr. DeLuca and I went to his
office.

“
Okay, so who are you that McHale
and those lousy cops let you take charge of things that way?” he
asked, trying to regain some of his bluster.

I walked past him, sat down in his chair, and
folded my hands on his desk. Looking up at him as if he was a
misbehaving child, I said, “He is Mr. McHale to you, and those two
cops are fine law enforcement officers. You, on the other hand, run
a gussied-up, tomato-paste diner and have a way too overinflated
opinion of yourself and your out-of-a-can culinary
concoctions.”

Mr. DeLuca turned scarlet and raged, “How dare
you, you young punk?”

In a calm, icy, voice I replied, “I dare,
DeLuca, because I can. You see, your lease is with Coastal Carolina
Realty Trust. My name is Michael Lanier. I own Coastal Carolina
Realty Trust.”

For the first time, Mr. DeLuca had no quick
come-back. A worried look flitted across his face.

“
I also own the Coastal Carolina
Small Business Fund, the company that loaned you the money to get
this place up and running. That loan is callable at any time,
DeLuca. I’m calling it.”

Mr. DeLuca slumped into one of the
uncomfortable chairs he no doubt made his employees sit in when
they came into his office. “Impossible, I cannot pay.”

With a shark’s grin and cold hard eyes, I
informed him, “Then, if you cannot pay the note, once you have paid
what you can, you will not be able to pay the rent. Consider this
your notice that I am commencing eviction actions against you per
the terms of your lease.”

“
You cannot do this. You are a
child,” Mr. DeLuca said, but there was no resolve in his voice. He
had no fight left.

Toning down my predatory posture, I said in a
more business-like tone, “Call the SBF offices, call the Realty
office, or call your lawyer. I assure you, Mr. Deluca, I can and
will do this.”

Mr. DeLuca sat quietly for what seemed like
hours but was really only a moment.

“
There must be some way to avoid
this. What do you want of me?”

Leaning back in his chair and allowing myself
to relax, I told him, “First, I want to know what you have against
teachers.”

Mr. DeLuca shook his head slowly. “No, that I
will not discuss. Suffice it to say I have my reasons, personal
reasons. If that is your offer, evict me then.”