Chapter 19
“Hey, Pamela,” Annie said as she walked in the door of Pamela’s Pie Palace.
“Hey Annie,” Pamela called out from behind the counter.
The place was packed. She was having a grand reopening celebration since the place had been closed for several days. Annie was often impressed by Pamela’s business acumen.
“Let’s go into my office,” Pamela said, leading her through a door that led to some stairs. Annie followed her up the stairs to what looked like more of an apartment than an office.
“Sorry about the mess,” Pamela said, walking over to the futon and plopping down on it. A poster of Marilyn Monroe hung on the wall behind the futon. “Lord, that’s quite a crowd down there! Take a seat. What can I do for you?”
DeeAnn always went on about how beautiful Pamela was. And it was true, Annie mused. But she was uncertain how pretty Pamela would be without her makeup. Likely Annie would never find out; she looked as though she’d stepped out of a poster herself.
“I’m here to ask a few questions about Marina,” Annie said.
Pamela’s mouth curled. “I figured.”
“She’d been here two years?”
“Just about, well, closer to eighteen months, actually.”
“I’m curious as to how you found her. How you find the other internationals that work for you,” Annie said, trying to be as careful with her words as possible.
“I used to work with an agency,” Pamela said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “But then word got around. I have families working here, cousins, nephews. They come over and send for others. I haven’t had to use the agency in a while. For the most part, I never have problems. Most of them are very good workers.”
“So you don’t work with the agency at all anymore?”
“Not too much. Every once in awhile they contact me,” she said.
“Is that how you found Marina?”
Pamela tilted her head. “Actually, the agency came to me. Marina was known in Mexico City as a good baker. She had run into trouble of some kind . . . and she needed to get out.”
Zaps of intuition and curiosity were zooming through Annie. “What kind of trouble?”
Pamela made a gesture that Annie had seen Vera make a thousand times. She called it the “Delta Burke-Suzanne Sugarbaker” dismissive wave. “I never ask about such things. I find it’s better if I don’t know about my employees’ personal lives. I don’t want to get too involved. They move on from here pretty quickly most of the time. Marina was different. I was surprised she stayed as long as she did.”
“Why do they move on so quickly?”
Pamela sank back into a pillow. “They find better work, I suppose. It’s typical in the restaurant business. I have some servers and bakers that have been with me for years. But for the most part, workers are here less than a year and move on.”
A wafting of some delicious pie baking downstairs filled the room. Cinnamon and apple? Mince?
“But Marina had been here eighteen months. Did you think she’d stay longer?” Annie said, reminding herself that her visit was not about pie.
“I thought she was a talented baker. She was on a different pay scale, than say, a dishwasher. I was hoping she’d stay.” An emotion played over Pamela’s face. Sullen. Sad. “I don’t understand why someone wanted to kill her. She was so sweet.”
“And her sister . . .” Annie said. “You mentioned that there was trouble in Mexico. Any way you can find out what that was?”
“I can make some inquiries, I suppose. But why? You don’t think their trouble followed them here, do you?”
Annie shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. Two sisters killed within twenty-four hours of one another. And they both lived over on Druid Lane in apartments that I didn’t even know existed. Come to find out those places are gang infested.”
“Gang?”
“According to the cops,” Annie said.
“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” Pamela said, her eyes widening.
“What makes you so certain?”
“First, we’re talking about Cumberland Creek, right? Second, Marina would never be involved in such shenanigans, third—”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Pamela yelled.
“Sorry to interrupt.” It was Randy. “I need your signature on a few things.” He handed her a pen and a clipboard. She read it over.
“Hey Annie,” he said, while Pamela was signing. “How are you?”
“Good. Yourself?”
“Fine,” he said.
Pamela handed him back the clipboard.
Annie glanced at her watch. Pamela had pushed back their meeting several times, which meant it was close to the time her boys would be getting home from school. She’d have to wrap this up and try to get another meeting scheduled. She explained to Pamela that she’d have to go. “I’m sorry. I hope we can meet again soon.”
“Hey, just call or e-mail me. It might be quicker,” Pamela said, leading Annie out of the room to the stairs.
When Annie walked into the dining room, she was surprised to see Vera, Sheila, Beatrice, and Jon sitting in a booth. She walked over to them after saying good-bye to Pamela. “Well, hello there. What are you all doing here?”
“Pie,” Beatrice said. “We’re here for pie. Care to join us?”
“It’s the grand reopening,” Vera said. “She’s got some great specials today.”
“I’ve got to go. The boys will be home soon. Sorry,” Annie said.
“What are you doing here?” Vera asked.
“I was chatting with Pamela about Marina,” Annie replied in a quieter voice.
“Find out anything interesting?” Beatrice asked.
“Maybe. I’m not sure what to think,” Annie said.
“Did you get an address for me?” Beatrice asked, looking hopeful.
“Shoot, no. I forgot,” Annie said.
“I’ll ask Pamela myself,” Beatrice said. “No worries.”
“If you want to get anything done, you’ve got to do it yourself” Annie heard Beatrice mutter as she walked away.