Not sure why I didn’t see it that way for women. Maybe because I expect women to be vain. I sure as hell was being vain now, as I flipped my visor down to check myself in the mirror one more time.
Yep, just as I’d thought, I looked H O T. I’m joking. My cheeks looked sallow, and I had deeper wrinkles than I liked to see. Stress was not looking good on me. But that’s what this date was about, eliminating the stress and moving on. I realized I should have checked out the profile Charles and Cortnie put up on the dating site. For all I knew, they’d said I was tall, thin, blue-eyed, blonde hair, and a millionaire.
When I entered the steakhouse, the memories flooded back. The Pub had been in the same location since I was a kid, maybe even longer. The interior of The Pub hadn’t been updated since that time, either. Sure, they’d repainted, but the walls were still tan, and the booths were still dark leather. Even the paneling and door trim were original, with every dent and chip visible. Pictures of good times long forgotten lined the walls of the bar and the chair railing of the dining room, and if you looked close enough, you’d probably recognize someone you knew. Produce brokers, farmers, cowboys, bankers had all done deals at the tables in this steakhouse. I looked to the arched bar, to see if I could find the man fitting Bruno’s description, but there were so many people, I could only stand at the hostess podium and stare.
The hostess, a woman in her fifties, and dressed like she was in the fifties, approached me. “Honey, are you looking for someone?”
“I have a date. I...” I looked around some more, not finishing my sentence. I didn’t want to sound like a desperate hag. Oh, and I’ve never seen him. It’s a blind, online dating, date.
She gently touched my elbow and led me past the bar and into the full to capacity dining room. We immediately turned left, and at the second booth, a man who was definitely not six feet tall stood to greet me.
“Mimi?” His voice screeched like a teen reaching puberty. He reached out to shake my hand.
His hand had the rough, calloused skin of a man who knew all about hard work. I was ready for the limp fish handshake of a man without much self-esteem, but I was surprised, Bruno had a firm handshake that didn’t last one second longer than was appropriate.
It was a good thing, because that handshake was his redemption. If it had been limp, I’d have bolted without even a glance back. Instead, I shook his hand and said, “Bruno, so nice to meet you. You look…”
“I know, I don’t quite look like my profile.” He looked down at the carpet.
Not quite was an understatement. He definitely wasn’t six feet tall, maybe five-ten, and his hair was not dirty blonde, but silver, what there was of it. He wore his hair cropped so close, I could see the tanned skin of his scalp, and on top, there was mostly just scalp. The eyes were definitely brown, at least as far as I could see in the low light.
He went on to explain. “This dating thing wasn’t my idea. My sister-in-law put up the profile, thinking it would get me out of a rut.”
I felt for the guy. I put my hand out in a gesture that implied we should sit down. When I slid into the booth, I noticed there was already a bottle of wine on the table.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t think it was right to have it opened before you arrived. No telling what kind of creeper I might be.” He waved his hand in a polite signal toward our server.
It was obvious by how fast he was talking that he was nervous as hell. “Very thoughtful,” I said, trying to put him at ease. “I do tend to be a bit distrustful of people, especially in my line of work.”
The server approached the table and picked up the bottle of wine. With a white linen napkin in one hand, she presented the bottle, label out, to Bruno. He nodded. Then she presented it to me. It was a 1984 Stags Leap Cask 23 Cabernet Sauvignon. I tried not to look too eager when I nodded, too. Give this Bruno a brownie point for good taste in wine.
The server proceeded to remove the cork, and poured a sample into my glass. I lifted the wine goblet, swirled, sniffed, and sipped. I think I may have died and gone to wine heaven in that moment. I savored the flavors on my tongue and swallowed. Putting the goblet down, I said, “Perfect.”
Bruno smiled, and I marveled at the quarter inch gap between his front teeth. Former New York Giant Michael Strahan immediately came to mind. He sipped the sample the server had poured into his glass, and at that moment I knew he didn’t pick the wine himself. He definitely wasn’t a wine drinker, and if he was, it was white wine.
I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my giggle. I was able to cover my amusement fairly well by once again drinking from my wine glass, as the server had filled it to a proper level after Bruno’s choked approval.
The server opened our menus for us and said, “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
I didn’t need time, but I looked at my menu anyway. Bruno seemed like he needed time to take a deep breath.
I put my menu down and said, “So, King City. I promise not to keep you out too late, since I know you have an early morning at the dairy barn.”
Bruno lowered his menu. He looked me in the eye when he spoke. “It’s only a forty-five minute drive. Not too bad. Are you from Salinas originally?”
“Yep, I’m a lifer. Well, I guess I’m a boomeranger, since I did leave for a short time, college, then the Secret Service, but most of my life anyway. You originally from South County?”
Bruno nodded. “Third generation farmer. I went to school in King City, then Cal Poly, and back home to farm.”
I took another sip of wine. I’m not good at small talk. I do it for my job when I’m scoping out a possible cheating husband, but when it’s for real, I don’t know what to say.
“Private detective?” Bruno picked up his glass and choked down another sip.
“Yes, I own an agency in Salinas. As a matter of fact, I was just finishing up a surveillance setup before I came here.”
He closed his menu and placed it on the edge of the table. “Really? Can you talk about it?”
I thought about that for a moment. “I’m not sure it’d be right. But you’ll hear about it soon enough. That is, if you get the local newspaper.”
He shook his head. “Not the Californian, I’m afraid. But I can look it up online.” He laughed a nervous laugh. “And who knows, maybe there will be a next time, and eventually you can tell me yourself.”
Bruno wasn’t the kind of man I’d normally seek out for myself. I’m not a country girl in any way. Sure, I had friends who team roped, barrel raced, and showed cutting and reining horses, but all that dirt, and those animals with a mind of their own, was so not for me. I did enjoy going to the rodeo in Salinas, and had even watched my good friend win the barrel racing there, but get on one of those thousand pound athletes? Um, no. It was good to step out of my comfort zone, right?
“What do you do for fun?” I mean really, what does a dairy farmer do for fun? “Apparently not wine tasting.”
He laughed. This time it was genuine, without a hint of the nerves I noticed earlier. “You caught me. I’m a beer guy really. But I saw on your profile that you liked wine, so I had the server help me with the choice.”
“Oh goodness, you mean you didn’t look at the wine menu?” I was now close to choking on the delicious berry flavors of the cabernet.
Bruno’s eyes widened, and he grabbed for the menu at the center of the table. Opening it, his eyes got even wider.
I fully expected the color to drain from his face.
After swallowing hard, he said, “Do you like it?”
I raised my brows and licked my lips, “It’s one of the best wines I’ve ever had.”
There was that heart melting smile again. “Then it’s worth every penny.” He paused, pushing his food menu away. “There’s only one thing…”
I waited, afraid of what that one thing was. If he meant to go Dutch, I was fine with that. I just hated that type of statement when it had a pause.
“Now I can’t afford to pay for d
inner.” The look on his face made me think he was going to vomit.
That took me aback. “Um, well, I--”
Before I could finish my sentence, he put up his hand and said, “I’m kidding. I’m not poor, I promise.”
I wanted to reach across the table and hug him. So, he wasn’t as cute as his profile picture, and he wasn’t a hot, hunky specimen, but he was cute, and he had a sense of humor. I liked him immediately.
The food was divine, the service impeccable, and the company was good, too. By the time the main course was served, we both stopped trying to pretend we were comfortable with online dating.
Coffee was served, and we both asked for cream and sugar. I didn’t feel uncomfortable leaving him at the table with my drink sitting there, but I was paranoid. I didn’t have to go to the bathroom, but I could feel my phone vibrating. I tried to ignore it, because the only way to answer or check it, and not be rude was to go to the bathroom. The coffee was too hot to chug down, and besides, I’d wanted to sip it and chat with Bruno a bit more. It turned out we had several friends in common.
He must have sensed my tension. “Answer it.”
“I don’t want to be rude, but it may be work. Are you sure you don’t mind?” I reached into my handbag for my phone.
“As long as it isn’t a ploy to leave this date early,” Bruno laughed, but I could tell he thought it was possible.
I looked at the missed call: it was Cortnie.
“I have to call Cortnie back.” At this point, I forgot all about my coffee, and leaving it unattended, I stood. “I’ll be right back.”
I rushed out of the restaurant as I speed dialed her cell phone. I was pushing open the restaurant door as she picked up.
“Hey, how did it go tonight?” I asked.
“The sting operation went fine. Actually, two girls are still out working.” Something in her voice didn’t sound right.
“So, that’s good, right?” I waited.
“Lena left early tonight. She said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“That’s okay.” I couldn’t see anything wrong with that. She just wouldn’t get paid for the night. No work, no pay.
“The problem is she isn’t answering her phone.” Cortnie paused, and I heard her take a deep breath.
My heart stopped. I didn’t want to hear what she said next.
“I need you to come to…” Cortnie blurted out the address of one of the motels on Kern Street.
Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t eaten so much. The food was churning like butter in my stomach. Mixed with the wine, it was not a good feeling.
“I’m on a date, Cortnie. A real date, with a nice guy.”
“Mimi, are you okay?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
My feet felt like a ton of bricks as I forced myself to go back in and tell Bruno I had to leave. I knew what he’d be thinking. I was thinking it myself before I’d planned the date. I’d excuse myself, go to the bathroom, text Charles or Cortnie, and have them save me from the date.
I’d normally have Jackie be my savior, but she was on vacation in the Bahamas with her man. Yes, the very man she’d told me she was no longer dating.
I really needed Jackie now. How was I going to tell this guy that I had to go? It’s something for work. I promise. I had a terrific time…
Bruno was slumped in the booth, nursing his coffee, when I arrived back at the table. I didn’t bother to sit back down, thinking I needed to get out of there now. I could really get to like this guy, but now, well, now he’d think I was an asshole.
“Hey,” I hesitated. “I need--”
Bruno stood. “No, I understand. Thanks. It was nice to meet you.” He put his hand out to shake.
I wanted him to know he was wrong. I put my arms around his waist and hugged him. Leaning in close, I said, “I promise this is really about work. Much to my surprise, I had a wonderful time.” Then I kissed him on the cheek.
He held me at arm’s length. “Really?” He could not have looked more stunned.
I laughed. “Really. You have my number. Call me.” I pecked his cheek again. “But I’ve really got to go. Dinner was lovely, the wine was, too, and the company was even better.”
I stepped back and walked out. Just as I turned the corner out of the dining room, I looked back. He stood there with an adorable grin on his face.
I, on the other hand, was grim faced as I prepared myself for the moments ahead.
CHAPTER 4
Charles
So much for a quiet night at home.
I’d just gotten out of the shower, wrapped up in a robe, was settling down with a plate of pear halves with cream cheese and toasted almonds, and a chilled glass of some cheap chardonnay when the phone rang. It wasn’t my cell phone. It was the house phone. Anthony was out of town, so I let it ring. No one ever calls the house for me.
But when the greeting ended, I heard Cortnie’s voice.
“Charles, where are you? I’ve been calling your cell, but no answer.” I heard her sigh. “I need you to call me now!” Click.
Cortnie, unlike Mimi, wasn’t the type of person to overreact, and she sounded on the verge of hysterics. I moved my plate off my lap, took a long sip of wine, then got up and went into the bedroom.
Not prone to forgetting, or leaving things in odd places, I knew exactly where my phone was. Only it wasn’t there or in the bathroom. What the hell?
As much as I hated to give my neighbors a free show, I traipsed out to my car to check there.
The night was chilly, with only a thin fog. So thin, I could actually see across the yard to my neighbor’s house. Not that we ever got pea soup fog like the Central Valley. I flipped on the porch light, not wanting to stub my bare toes, and walked out to my car.
Lest you think I’m a heathen, the car was only parked in the driveway because we were car sitting for a friend. She only had a carport, and was out of town. She didn’t trust her neighbors, and asked if she could keep her car with us.
I lifted the corner of my car cover off the front bumper and pulled it back only far enough to open the driver’s side door. Right there on the seat was my iPhone. Thank goodness! I don’t know what I’d do without having that phone attached to my hip. Oh, wait, my name isn’t Mimi.
I grabbed the phone, shut the car door, and pulled the cover back over the car. Standing in the driveway, wearing only my burgundy, paisley print silk robe, and I do mean only, I pushed the buttons to fire up the phone.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The voicemail message button read five. “Five? Overkill much?”
I didn’t bother with listening to the messages and hit the speed dial button for Cortnie’s cell phone. Starting back to the house, since there were no neighbors in their yards to impress, I put the phone on speaker.
I’m pretty sure it was three quarters of a ring before Cortnie answered. “Where the hell have you been? I had to call Mimi.”
Not that Cortnie didn’t like Mimi, but she knew as well as I did that Mimi had a tendency toward the melodramatic.
“I’m waiting.” I wasn’t going to drag the emergency out of her.
“One of my decoys is missing.” Cortnie sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
I listened as she explained the situation. I’d gotten as far as my bedroom by the time she dropped the bomb, and I placed the phone on my dresser. Pulling open drawers, and putting on boxer briefs, socks, and straight legged jeans, I was nearly dressed by the time she finished. I pulled on a gray cashmere sweater and was slipping into my Magnanni Miro loafers by the time we hung up.
On the way out the door, I decided to listen to the messages. One was from Mimi telling me to meet her on Kern Street at the rendezvous point, and the other four were from panic stricken Cortnie.
I’ve come to realize that owning a business is like having children: I no longer had a life of my own. I thought about this decision as I parked my Spyder in the parking lot of the Sup
er 8 motel. This was a great meet up point, close enough to the working decoys, yet far enough to be out of the way of both the decoys and the cops. Cortnie pulled up beside me in her white Dodge van.
The outside of the van looked like a beater with dents and rust, but the inside was state of the art. Mimi and I had forked over the money so Cortnie could have an up-to-date surveillance van, with all of the latest equipment and toys. I think I heard Mimi squeak as she wrote the check. It was before I was on the account, or I’d have written it, of course
Cortnie jumped out of the van and jogged to my car. If I was that kind of guy, I’d mention that her boobs were doing some jogging of their own, but since I’m not…
“Lena is missing.” Cortnie was breathless, not from the jogging, but from the panic.
“Yes, that much I got.” I opened the car door and got out. “Give me the details.”
“It was sort of weird.” She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “She…”
Mimi’s Land Rover swerved into the parking lot on two wheels. She skidded to a stop behind us, effectively blocking us in. I think it was a power play. Well, two can play that game… later.
She jumped out of the car and left her door open. As she came toward us, it was obvious she had a deafness to the decibel of her car’s door ajar beeping. I did not have that same deafness and pointed to her car. She stopped, turned, and kicked the door shut with her ballet slippered foot.
“Please tell me you didn’t already tell Charles everything,” she said, exasperated.
“No, dear, you’re getting it first hand.” I put my hand behind her, as she had the audacity to think she was going to lean against my car.
“Humph.” She took two steps away from the car.
Cortnie stomped her foot. “Can I start now?”
We both looked at her, eyes wide, as this was a Mimi move. Oh. My. God. Birds of a feather and all that.
“Lena left early, and she isn’t answering her phone.”
“I’m not sure why this is a big deal,” I said.
They both glared at me as if I’d just come to Earth in my spaceship.
Bad Vice: Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery #5 (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries) Page 3