I was more than grateful when Mary P answered my SOS and served lunch in Andi’s place.
“Just so you know, this isn’t to be a regular thing,” she said as she tied her apron around her ample middle. “I’m happy to help on occasion, but I’m a retired lady.”
I kissed her cheek. “You’ve saved me twice in one week. No wonder I love you.”
Mary P lit up at my words. “Back at you, kid.” And she bustled off.
I forced myself to smile at all the nice customers, knowing that in the hospitality business nothing mattered quite as much as attitude, not even the food. A warm smile could cover a multitude of serving mistakes, from spilled iced tea to grilled cheese too browned.
But I was fuming inside. I was very aware of the phenomenon of teenage girls and irrational behavior. After all, I’d once been sixteen and I’d lived with Lindsay when she was sixteen. Moodiness went with the territory.
But Andi’d promised! Had she stood right there and with knowledge aforethought lied? Surely not. Andi might be volatile at times and have terrible taste in men, but I would never have thought her a bald-faced liar.
Even Clooney had believed her. He stood with her as she gave her word, and he told her he was proud of her. Had she just been repentant because he demanded it of her? I’d witnessed that don’t-mess-with-me aspect of his personality when he’d come down on Bill for daring to act too familiarly. Had he exerted that same force on Andi and made her apologize? Then she’d fled at her first opportunity?
That line of thought didn’t make sense to me. Clooney was her family. She never spoke of parents, not even to say they were dead. It was as if her life began when she came to live with Clooney, and if his home was now hers, she couldn’t afford to alienate him.
So what had happened? What made her go out the window? People didn’t climb out windows unless under great pressure to escape.
But escape what? Was she that frightened of Bill? She’d been sitting with him just before she ran. Had he said something that upset her? Had he threatened her somehow?
If that was the case, why didn’t she just say he scared her? A word to Clooney, and Bill would be history. It took a stronger personality than that of any has-been high school athlete to stand up to that man. And there was always the possibility of a restraining order if needed.
As I waited for a tuna melt and a grilled cheese and tomato, I placed a quick call to Clooney. He needed to know what had happened, and I needed to know if Andi’d gone home. All I got was his answering machine. He was undoubtedly out digging treasures from the sand with his little red spade.
“Clooney,” I told the machine. “She’s gone again. Is she at home? Andi, are you there? Pick up! Let me help. Clooney, do you know what’s going on with her? Call me.”
Both Greg and Fred left with worry clear on their faces. I thought it kind of Fred to be concerned over a girl he didn’t even know. If the people he represented were as nice as he was, Greg would like his new employers more than his last.
Cilla left with Mr. Perkins, and I got the impression he was walking her home. In spite of my worry over Andi, I had to smile at the thought of a golden-years romance.
At two thirty, when we were down to two tables finishing up their lunches, Greg came back.
“How’s it going?” He stood across the pink marble from me.
I was so weary both physically and emotionally that all I wanted to do was lay my head on his shoulder and absorb some of his strength. “We managed. Mary P came in and took Andi’s booths, so we got everyone fed.”
He nodded with sympathy. “I’ve got the perfect antidote for your tension.”
“A hot bath and a coupon for a full body massage?”
He laughed. “Better. Surf fishing.”
What? “You mean the kind where you stand on the beach and dare the fish to swim in and get caught?”
“You fish from the beach, yes, but it’s not quite that hopeless. The stripers are running, and it’s great fun trying to get one.”
I didn’t think it sounded as relaxing as my longed-for massage, but it was with Greg, so it had to be fun even if it turned out to be terrible. “Will the surf be too rough what with the higher-than-normal seas caused by the hurricane passing out at sea?”
“If anything, it’ll be more fun.”
I eyed him, my skepticism clear. “If you say so. What time?”
He thought a moment. “I need to fix a couple of minor problems at the property at Sixteenth and the boardwalk. You need to finish up here. How about four?”
“It’s a date.” I heard myself and colored. What if it wasn’t? What if it was just a desire not to fish alone? What if last night’s kiss was just some freaky sort of accident? Though how it could be an accident was more than I could understand. “It is a date, isn’t it?” I had difficulty forcing out the d word, and I hated feeling so insecure.
Lindsay and Ricky, sitting at the counter eating their late lunch, looked at each other and smiled. So glad my dating ineptitude brought joy to their world.
Greg cleared his throat. “I haven’t done this in years, but if I remember right, then yes, it’s a date.”
My smile felt as if it would split my face. “Cool.” No way could Snoopy move his feet fast enough to keep up with my tap-dancing heart.
“Very.” His smile mirrored mine.
Yippee, Lord! It’s finally my time! I think.
We walked toward the front door. I moved behind the register, where I picked up Andi’s Sudoku book left lying on the counter. I looked at it quizzically.
Mary P glided past with the last of her dirty dishes. She cocked her head toward the book. “She left that on her table when she ran.”
“I hope that means she’s coming back.” I set the book on the shelf under the register, and it fell open to the page that had a pencil stuck in it.
I glanced at the puzzle she had been working and saw a bunch of numbers running along the side of the page like a numerical sentence. Absent-minded doodles? Certainly they had nothing to do with solving the Sudoku.
I set the book on the counter between Greg and me. “This was the last thing she was doing before she left.”
Greg studied the page. “The last thing?” He turned the book so he could read the string of figures. “Then these numbers have got to be important.”
I studied the now upside-down-to-me page. “You think this is a message of some kind?” Surely not. “A secret code to open a treasure chest or a safe where we find a note written in invisible ink telling us what’s going on?”
“Cute.” He was caught in the numbers and the questions they raised. “There has to be something here. Otherwise why did she write them?”
We stared at the numbers on the page. 2912 11912 10. 49424.
“She told me once she used to send coded messages as a kid.” I began to get excited. “She subbed numbers for letters. When she was young, it was numbers for vowels, but as she got older, it was numbers for all the letters. You know, 1 equals A, 2 is B. Like that.”
“So 2912 is a word? 2 is B, 9 is I, then A and B. B-I-A-B?”
Disappointment bit deep. “There’s no such word. Unless the 1 and 2 are 12. B-I-L. Bill?”
Greg nodded “Then line two is either 1-19-12 or 11-9-12. A-S-L or K-I-L.”
I felt a chill. “B-I-L K-I-L. Bill kill?”
“Bill Kill 10.” He worked his fingers, counting off letters. “Bill Kill J.”
“Greg! Is she telling us that Bill killed Jase?”
“Don’t know. 4-9-4-2-4. D-I-D-B-D.”
I glared at the letters. “They don’t make sense.”
I could feel excitement snap through Greg. “They do if the last 4 stays a 4 and doesn’t become a D. Did B4.”
“Bill killed Jase. Did before.” Before? He’d killed someone before?
Greg, looking incredibly serious, picked up the book. “I’ll take this to the police. They’ve got to find Bill, and fast.” He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll be back as close to four as I can make it.” And he was gone.
My head reeled at the thought that I had served a killer and thought his worst fault was not tipping. For want of an idea about how to fix things for Andi, I went back to work. I was filling a needy saltshaker at one of the back booths when the door opened again. I grimaced. I’d forgotten to lock it in the distraction of Andi’s Sudoku clue. I turned to tell the newcomer that we had stopped serving.
My breath caught, and I felt the blood drain from my face, leaving me lightheaded.
My mother stood in my restaurant.