THE WITNESS TO the assault was a cooperative twenty-year-old, who needed to get back to work by two, so his deposition was conducted in rapid-fire fashion and then everybody scattered.
Fine by me. I had things to do. And since I had no desire to become Patsy’s favorite whipping girl, tops on my list had to be delivering that subpoena.
I just needed to find a way to get by her desk without her asking me the inevitable question. Coming up empty, I was pacing outside of the breakroom with Stanley’s umbrella in hand when I saw Shondra heading my way.
“So?” she asked. “Did you get a list?”
“Yes, but…” Did I dare ask her to do me a little favor?
Why the heck not. “Could I talk to you a minute?”
Her gaze hardened much like my ex’s every time I suggested that we needed to talk. “I only have a minute.”
I pointed down the hall and started walking.
Her heels thunked behind me. “What’s this about?”
“I discovered something,” I said, avoiding eye contact with Patsy as I passed her desk.
“And?”
Exiting the Prosecutor’s office, I took a couple of steps out into the checkerboard-tiled hall. “Dr. Osborne spoke with Emmy Lee Barstow the day she went missing.”
“Yeah, he said that he saw her.”
“I think they may have made plans to meet up later.”
Shondra blew out a breath. “Doubtful there’s much there that we don’t already know.”
“I thought I’d ask him about it.”
“Again?”
“He evaded a lot of my questions last time.”
“You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. However, you might also be too emotionally involved in the unfortunate death of one of your friends.”
What? No. “I barely knew her.”
“Maybe, but in my experience a personal relationship with the victim tends to lead to clouded judgment.”
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t know about that. Just don’t hound everyone who had some incidental contact with her.”
That sounded like permission to talk to Dr. Osborne to me.
“What else you got?” she asked.
“Nothing much. Vernon didn’t want to talk about anything else of Emmy Lee’s that was missing, but he did confirm that he didn’t have the sample bag.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“You couldn’t have told me this in my office?”
“I could have.”
“But you needed an escort to get past Patsy without getting saddled with more busywork.”
This lady was way too sharp. “Something like that.”
“I told you before, you need to learn how to say no.”
“I’m working on it,” I said, heading for the stairs.
“Work harder, and let me know what you find out from the doctor.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was reminded by Elaine, the Chimacam Anesthesia Associates receptionist, that Dr. Osborne didn’t work on Mondays.
Swell.
After I made an appointment for tomorrow at four, I went out into the hallway and pulled the subpoena from my tote to see where I needed to head next.
“No way,” I said, comparing the suite number next to the door to the one on the envelope.
Elaine looked over her computer monitor as I approached her desk. “Forget something?”
“Kind of. Are you Elaine Shapiro?”
“Yes.”
I handed her the envelope. “You’ve been served.”
Her face contorted. “Unbelievable! I’m never going to get away from that man.”
“An ex?”
“What do you care?”
I didn’t, and clearly our sharing moment was over. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I can hardly wait.”
Okay, in hindsight maybe having my meeting with Dr. Osborne prior to pissing off his receptionist might have been the smarter play. But that would have required me to go back to the office to face a pissed-off Patsy. And I had learned on day one, that was something to be avoided at all costs.
* * *
Almost three hours later, I pulled into Moyra’s driveway and my cell phone rang.
Steve’s name was displayed, so I assumed he’d seen my car illuminated by the floodlight attached to her garage. “Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“I guess you’re not looking out your window because I’m parked across the street.”
“Sorry, I know I said we’d go shopping tonight, but something’s come up. Could we do this tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“That could be interesting,” I said, hoping he’d get a little more specific. Maybe even mention dinner plans for Valentine’s Day.
Instead, I heard voices in the background.
“Char, I gotta go.”
Heaving a sigh as I tossed my phone in my tote, I got out of my car and was halfway up the driveway before I noticed a light was on in the living room.
Moyra was home.
I heard barking and the door swung open. And somehow I felt a pang of let-down, like a second date had just cancelled on me.
After ten minutes of hearing about her brother’s funeral and the traffic getting out of the airport, I packed up my things and said goodbye to Buster.
“So, how much do I owe you?” Moyra asked.
I had no idea. I’d never babysat a dog before. “Two hundred?” That would cover my new dresser and then some.
She insisted upon adding a little extra to the stack of cash she counted out from her wallet and then gave me a hug.
I headed home two hundred and fifty dollars richer, but before I made it down the hill to Main Street I had tears welling in my eyes.
“What’s your problem?” I asked myself.
I was in no mood to explore the answer or go home to a very empty apartment, so I decided to treat myself to a supper with my friendly neighborhood bartender.
Only I didn’t see her behind the bar when I arrived, and the Eighties classic rock that Eddie typically cranked up was barely audible. Something was wrong.
“Where’s Rox?” I asked Eddie after he delivered a foamy pitcher of beer to one of the tables.
He gave his head a shake. “She was puking her guts out earlier. I took her home.”
“Is she okay?”
He spun a coaster in front of me when I took my usual seat at the bar. “As long as she doesn’t get near most everything on our menu, she’s kind of okay.”
“Seriously? Everything?”
“Except saltines and water, so don’t expect to see her around here for the next few weeks.”
“Eddie, that’s a long time to be down a person.”
“Weekends will be the toughest. If you know any waitresses at Duke’s who could fill in—”
“What about me? I’ve never tended bar, but I know my way around a kitchen.”
His mouth gaped. “Are you serious?”
“Friday after work I could come straight over here. Saturdays, league nights – you tell me when you need the help. All I ask is that you let me keep the tips.”
He reached across the bar and pumped my hand. “You’re hired.”
Just as a couple stood in the doorway and searched for a table, a big guy in a bowling shirt stood behind them and yelled at Eddie about a pin being stuck.
After cursing the inventor of the mechanical pinsetter, Eddie pulled a black apron off a hook and handed it to me. “And I’d appreciate it if you could start tonight.”
Ooh, not what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t like I’d had any better offers.
He gave me the lowdown on the liquor tabs being run for the three guys at the bar and at four of the tables, and I waved him away. “I got this.” As long as no one ordered a libation requiring stirring, shaking, or blending.
I grabbed menus for the couple who found a table in the back, and then proceeded to check in at the seven other occupied tables and the men at the bar.
Ernie Kozarek, the most senior of the three, pushed his beer glass toward me for a refill. “New recruit, huh?”
“Yeah, Roxanne is a little under the weather, so you’ll have to tell me what beer you’re drinking.”
He pointed at the group of taps to my left. “The middle one.”
That landed me in front of a good-looking guy around my age who appeared to be nursing a beer. He smiled as if he’d been waiting for me to notice him.
Nice eyes, tan, leather jacket, no wedding band. If he was putting out the availability sign, it was too bad Donna wasn’t here. This guy was just her type.
I returned his smile. “Speaking of weather, some rain storm today, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And he was polite. When Eddie got back I needed to text Donna and tell her to get over here.
I set Mr. Kozarek’s beer on the coaster in front of him and then went to the back wall to take the couple’s order. After delivering that to the kitchen and refilling a pitcher for one of the tables, I saw an empty chair where the leather jacket guy had been sitting.
Sorry, Donna.
After collecting the ten he left by his empty glass and settling up one of the other tabs, I noticed a smiling brunette standing at the end of the bar.
At least Juliette Johansen seemed to be in a cheerier mood than the last time I had seen her.
“Hello, again,” I said as I approached.
She blinked, her smile evaporating. “You work here too?”
“I’m just helping out for a few weeks. My friend’s pregnant and can’t stomach anything on the menu right now.” Something Juliette could probably relate to.
She nodded. “Ah. I seem to have the opposite problem. I’m hungry all the time. I must have gained five pounds in the last week.”
If she had, it didn’t show. She didn’t even have a baby bump, which was downright unfair.
“I called in a pizza order a half hour ago,” she stated matter of factly. “For Rutherford.”
Apparently, our girl talk time had come to an end. I suspected because Roman was impatiently waiting to be fed. “I’ll check for you.”
After a quick trip to the kitchen, I set a large and very hot pizza box on the end of the bar. “Pepperoni, no onion, no olives, no green pepper, no mushrooms.”
Juliette opened the box to inspect it and moved several slices of pepperoni so that they didn’t stick out. “Roman is very particular.”
I could only imagine.
* * *
After seven-thirty, the dinner crowd started thinning, and I hung up my apron behind the bar.
“You leaving?” Eddie asked, refilling a pitcher for a table of league bowlers.
I pulled my phone from my tote and carried it to the nearest barstool. “Maybe in another hour. Just checking my messages, then I’ll order something to eat.”
“Want a pizza? We have an order for a combo that never got picked up.”
“Sure, I’m starved,” I said, scanning a text from Marietta which I didn’t feel like dealing with, so I moved on to one from Steve.
Wrapping up here. What are you doing?
It had been sent about twenty minutes ago, so I dialed his phone to answer that question.
Seconds later, I heard ringing—with both ears.
I pocketed my cell and smiled at the weary-looking detective walking in my direction. “Well, look who’s here.”
Giving me a peck on the lips, Steve slid onto the stool next to mine. “You seem surprised to see me.”
“It’s not like I told you where I’d be.”
“Yeah, you’re so hard to track down, especially when you park out front.”
“You’ll never guess what I’ve been doing.”
He sniffed me, reminding me of Parker. “You smell like pizza. Does Eddie have you working off your bar bill or something?”
“Very funny. I’ll be filling in for Rox for a few weeks while she battles some industrial-strength morning sickness.” I pulled out a wad of ones from my pocket. “Look at all the tips I made tonight.”
Steve edged closer. “I might have a tip for you.”
“Oh yeah?” My evening was improving by the minute.
“If you’re lucky, I’ll even show it to you.”
I angled for a kiss. “Mmmmm.”
“Jeez,” Eddie said, setting a pizza box in front of me. “Get a room.”
Grinning, Steve snatched up the pizza box. “Shall we?”
Oh yeah.