“I suppose neither one of you saw anything out of the ordinary during the race.” Patti turned to them. “Those murders have been dumped right in our lap now.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Delia laughed. “I saw Ollie in a red bikini. That was out of the ordinary.”
Ollie grinned and Delia kissed his cheek.
“In a good way.” She smiled up at him. “I didn’t know a man could look good in a bikini.”
“How about you, Ollie?” Patti asked him.
“I didn’t see anything that had to do with murder or vandalism, if that’s what you’re asking, Detective Latoure.” Ollie’s tone was slightly rehearsed. He was always careful around the police.
Patti finished her biscuit and tea before she got to her feet. “I guess I’d better get going. I hear you all start early tomorrow. Let’s hope this part of the race is quiet.”
I agreed with her. “See you tomorrow.”
“And if any of you think of anything you didn’t tell the police in any of those other cities, give me a call, huh?”
“We will,” I promised for all of us.
Delia and Ollie were staring at each other as though they’d never seen each other. I took the first biscuit bowls out of the deep fryer and set them on the side to cool and drain.
“I’m going to step outside and call Miguel,” I said.
Neither one of them responded.
I went out, a tiny blossom of hope inside me that my two good friends had really found each other. Ollie deserved someone special in his life again. From what little I’d been able to glean from Miguel about his past, his dead wife was his first and last romance. He’d been unwilling to trust anyone since then. I couldn’t say that I blamed him.
It was the same thing for Delia, though not so dramatic. She deserved someone who loved her. They both did.
I called Miguel as I sat outside on the window ledge. I tried not to peek inside at what was going on. There was no answer. I left him a voice mail and walked around the building a few times. I didn’t want to go back inside right away.
The back of the old shopping center was a deplorable mess. I’d called and written letters to the city, and to the landlord, but there had been no response. Everything—including the kitchen sink and toilet—was thrown there. No wonder we had a problem with rats and bugs.
Since I had nothing better to do, I went ahead and called both offices again. There was no answer at the landlord’s number. The city clerk told me I’d have to file a special complaint form. When I told her I’d already filed that form—several times—she told me, quite cheerfully, that I’d have to wait until they could review it.
I took a few pictures of the mess in back. Next time, I could illustrate my point. Maybe I could even get the Mobile Times newspaper to write something about it. It was sad that we had to rely on the media to take care of problems.
I’d been outside about thirty minutes. I had to go back in and work on the biscuit bowls again before the dough went bad.
Ollie and Delia were sitting at one of the old booths. Their heads were close together, and they were whispering to each other. I wished I could take a picture of that, too.
Ignoring them, I went about seeing what was in the fridge and pantry that I could use for the sweet filling tomorrow. I had some ingredients to make the pecan pie filling I’d tried a few weeks before. The brown sugar confection had been very popular the one day that I’d made it. It was expensive, too, so I hadn’t made it again.
Would some of my regular customers come to the race event tomorrow? I hoped so. Mobile had a lively, and popular, food truck community. Those customers might go somewhere else rather than wade through the race crowd, but I hoped to see a few familiar faces.
I decided to make the pecan pie filling the next day. I could use my ingredients, but I’d have to wait to make it until I was in the food truck tomorrow. Since it was so sweet, I decided to go without the extra sugar. I knew it would be a good match.
I looked at the clock above the diner door. It was almost five P.M. I didn’t want to interrupt Ollie and Delia, but I needed time to get ready for dinner.
I called Miguel again—still no word from him. I hoped he hadn’t gotten caught up in something with Tina and wouldn’t be able to get away. I thought he’d probably call if that were the case. I tried not to imagine what kinds of things could come up with Tina. The woman was a whiny pest.
But I trusted him. I didn’t think he’d play around with me that way. The time we’d spent away from Mobile had been perfect for us.
At least I’d thought so. I hoped he did, too.
TWENTY-NINE
At five thirty, I was ready to go. Still no word from Miguel.
Ollie had gone back to the homeless shelter and changed clothes. He was still wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but now they were clean.
Delia had changed, too. She was wearing a short, heavenly blue dress with a sparkly silver chiffon overlay. Her hair was up. She looked like a princess.
I cleaned up pretty well, too. I went for my favorite little black dress—scoop neck and ending above my knees. My curls were perfect and glossy. I added black heels and a blue star sapphire necklace and earrings that had been a gift on my sixteenth birthday.
“Ladies!” Ollie looked us both over, but his eyes got stuck on Delia. “I guess we’re going without Miguel?”
“I haven’t heard from him all afternoon. Maybe he’s too busy to go to dinner.” I shrugged. “He might have had to get caught up with stuff at his office.”
Delia and I exchanged knowing glances.
“He’s not that kind of man,” I said.
“She’s that kind of woman,” Delia warned.
“Are we taking the food truck?” Ollie asked.
“No.” I’d called Uncle Saul’s taxi driver friend, Cole. There was no point in bothering Miguel for a ride. We could certainly get there without him. He could join us later when he could get away.
I called Miguel one last time while we were waiting for the taxi. I left a voice mail to make sure he knew he could come late if he wanted to.
“I hope he’s okay,” Delia said.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Ollie added.
“He probably just got busy,” I said again. “There were probably all kinds of clients that missed him while he was gone. He’ll come later.”
I didn’t want to feel miserable or pathetic—I was in the lead to win fifty thousand dollars. I was disappointed that Miguel couldn’t be there tonight, but I couldn’t expect him to drive me all over the city after going with me on the race.
I pasted a happy smile on my face when Cole pulled up, and the three of us got in the old Chevy taxi.
“Hey there, Zoe,” Cole said. “It’s good to see you. Don’t tell me—you’re on your way out to Chef Art’s place like Saul, right?”
“That’s where we’re headed.” I was careful to sit on the outside of the backseat so Delia and Ollie could sit next to each other. “I suppose Uncle Saul told you all about what happened while we were gone.”
He nodded as he pulled out of the parking lot. “He sure did. Sounds like you all had a heck of a time. Good eating, too. I’m glad you’re home. I missed those biscuit bowls of yours.”
That made me feel better. It was nice to know that someone had missed me while I was gone; even nicer that someone had missed my food.
Chef Art’s home was one of Mobile’s best, and most famous, antebellum mansions with stately oaks surrounding it. All the oaks had been cut down so that Confederate artillery was free to shell Federal troops. The trees there had been replanted using acorns from the originals.
Woodlands had been built in 1855. It had been restored with plenty of money and loving care so that the massive rooms, circular staircase, and crystal chandeliers were in great condition.