Chapter 16
Mixing up pancake batter early the next morning, I was glad I’d made it dozens of times before, because my mind was not on the task at hand. I’d slept as restlessly as a hummingbird, my thoughts racing from murder to worries about the store to the discovery of a newfound father. Unlike when the tiny birds sucked sustenance from every flower they flitted to, I wasn’t getting nourishment from any of my thoughts. At least Phil had agreed to cover the lunch crowd, saying he could take a personal day. He was bringing in desserts, too.
I sliced bananas and gently folded them into the big bowl of whole wheat batter, covered it, and set it aside. Good. That was done. I put caf and decaf on to brew, and set to cubing potatoes for home fries. I’d done the peppers, onions, and mushrooms yesterday. I already bought grated cheese. Maybe I should look into buying prechopped vegetables. Too bad one couldn’t also order up solutions to murder.
After Buck questioned me at the station on Tuesday, I’d consented to a swab of my gums. Apparently, saliva was a good place to find DNA. But I hadn’t heard back on the results, and it was making me nervous. As I mixed up the miso gravy, I thought of vegetarian Jim. We hadn’t really talked about my involvement in that aspect of the case when he’d stopped in yesterday.
When Danna ambled through the door at six-thirty, yawn in progress, I was in the middle of cracking a couple dozen eggs into the omelet bowl. I greeted her. She mumbled something back, donned an apron, and washed her hands.
“You can set the tables, okay?” I said.
She moved like a zombie to the shelves where we stacked the dishes.
“Tough night?”
She rolled her eyes. I hoped she’d wake up once customers arrived.
“Listen, I need to go to Stella Rogers’s funeral later this morning.”
At that, her eyes finally popped all the way open. “My mom told me I should go, too. I was like, seriously? I didn’t even know the lady. I mean, I know she was Mom’s assistant, but Mom couldn’t stand her. I’m surprised she didn’t shoot her herself.”
Clearly, Corrine hadn’t hidden her feeling about Stella from her daughter. “Does your mom own a gun?”
“Oh, yeah, a couple of them. She’s literally always down at the Beanblossom Firing Range practicing, too. She goes with Ed sometimes. I don’t know how she can stand his company. But don’t worry, she keeps the guns and ammo all locked up at home.”
It was bad news for me if Danna planned to be at the funeral, however. “Are you going to go to the service? I got my friend Phil MacDonald to agree to come in to replace me. But if you’re not here, either, it’ll be too much work for him.”
“No way I’m showing up at some depressing church ritual,” Danna scoffed, giving her head a quick shake in a young person’s dismissive gesture. “I’ll be right here. And I know Phil. I’m kind of embarrassed he used to babysit me. He’s awesome cute.”
“That’s him. It’s a big relief to me you’ll be around. Thanks.” I paused in my egg cracking. I’d never gotten around to checking out Danna’s references beyond talking to Ed, but I didn’t care. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, Danna, but I’d like to offer you this job as a regular thing. You’re doing great and you’re a huge help to me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re no longer here on a trial basis. That work for you?”
Danna smiled at the fork she was carefully placing on a blue napkin. “For sure.” She glanced up. “Thanks for giving me a chance, Robbie.”
We returned to our respective jobs. At least one thing was going right.
An hour later I had delivered a plate of pancakes and bacon to a customer when my cell phone rang in my apron pocket. I turned away and connected, walking to the front window.
Jim greeted me and asked how I was.
“I’ve been better. I learned something pretty interesting yesterday, but I can’t talk about it now. This place is bustling.”
“So you’re not going to Stella’s funeral?” His voice trailed downward and sounded disappointed.
“No, I am. Phil’s going to come in and relieve me. I’ll see you there?”
“You bet. Want me to pick you up?”
I laughed. “Jim, it’s four blocks away.” I glanced out the window at another sunny, breezy day. “I’ll walk over. I can use the fresh air.”
“I’ll save you a seat, then.”
I emerged from my apartment into the store at ten-thirty. It was empty except for Danna and me until Phil waltzed in through the door a minute later, carrying his dessert trays and singing at the top of his lungs.
“‘I believe,’” he belted, “‘that the Garden of Eden—’”
“Yo, pipe down,” Danna called from the stove. “You’ll scare away the customers.” She looked at Phil and laughed.
“No way. Book of Mormon? People around here love it,” Phil answered. He set the trays on the counter. “Hey, Robbie, you look nice.”
I glanced down at my black skirt, which I’d paired with a soft purple top and a short black jacket. My hair hung loose on my shoulders, and I wore low black boots with tights.
“Thanks. And major thanks for bailing me out like this. I owe you.”
He batted his hand down. “I’ll catch you up on that one of these days. Now get out. Danna and I have some catching up of our own to do.” He slid an apron off the shelf and popped it over his head.
“The hamburger patties are all prepped, and—”
“Go, Robbie. We got it covered,” Danna said. “We’ll be here when you get back.”
Thank goodness for competent helpers, I thought as I walked down the street. And now I had a minute to myself, it hit me like a jackhammer that Don would certainly be at the funeral. I could ask him about Roberto, but did I want to? He hadn’t told me about the visiting Italian and the accident. Even if my mom hadn’t ever informed him who my father was, he had to know by looking at me and putting the dates together. I thought back to when I met him on Saturday. He’d looked at me a little strangely and commented I didn’t resemble Mom. I’d been used to that back home, but there nobody knew my father. Then again, it was a long time ago. Maybe he thought Mom met somebody in California who looked like Roberto.
The wind gusted my hair into my eyes and I raised my hand to push it back. As I did, a black car raced way too fast down the street in the same direction I was headed. This was Main Street in a small town, with all kinds of people going in and out of businesses and crossing the streets, with school children, too, in the afternoons. It was no place for speeding. More importantly, though, the car resembled the one that nearly ran me off the road as I was riding the other day. Once again I tried to see the plate, but my hair was still in my eyes and I missed it.
I stood in the back of the ornate church, scanning for Jim, five minutes later. An organ droned church music and people rustled their programs and spoke in hushed tones. A uniformed Officer Wanda stood in position in the back left corner, hands behind her back, also scanning the pews. I gave her a nod, which she barely deigned to return. Don was up near the front on the right, sitting next to Ed Kowalski. Roy sat with bent head, alone, in the first row not far from the casket, which was draped in a white cloth with a gold cross on it. I didn’t see Adele anywhere, but when I spied Jim, I made my way up the side aisle to where he sat on the left and slid in next to him. He wore a dark blue suit today, with a green tie the color of his eyes.
He laid his hand atop mine on the seat and gazed at me. “You look lovely,” he whispered.
“Shh,” I answered, smiling. Someone tapped my shoulder and I twisted around to see who it was.
Abe O’Neill was leaning forward from the pew behind me. “Hi,” he said in a soft voice. Mr. Lean and Tan was now in a blazer, slacks, and a purple tie, which matched my top.
I returned his greeting and faced front again as the music changed and a priest walked up to the podium, or whatever it was called in a church. I didn’t frequent one, myself, and never had. Mom and I used to take breakfast to the beach on Sunday mornings: fresh strawberries, cheesy biscuits, creamy yogurt, plus cappuccino for her and hot chocolate for me. A big sky, warm sand, and the Pacific Ocean were all the religion I needed. I missed her again like a punch in the gut, with the fierce pain that sometimes grew fainter and then popped up again at unpredictable moments like this one.