“That’s him, all right,” Libby replied.
Andy shook his head. “Terrible, terrible thing. Such a shame. Poor guy. But I don’t know him.”
“We hear differently,” Bernie said.
Andy frowned and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. “Then you hear wrong.”
“I don’t think so,” Libby said. “Ralph owes you money.”
Andy contrived to look puzzled. “Does he owe you money, too? Is that why you’re here?”
“Yeah,” Bernie said. “He owes us for the cinnamon rolls he ordered and didn’t pick up. The interest compounds daily.”
Andy snickered. “Must be tough collecting five dollars.”
“The stakes are a little lower than when people owe you money,” Bernie conceded.
“That’s true,” Andy said. “We can always repossess their car. I don’t think you’d want to repossess the cinnamon rolls. It would be an . . . unpleasant process.”
“We understand your processes can be pretty unpleasant, too,” Libby said.
“Sometimes the collection agencies do overstep their bounds,” Andy allowed.
“My sister’s talking about the methods you use in your other enterprise,” Bernie explained.
Andy snorted. “That ridiculous story again.”
“Not from what we heard,” Libby said.
Andy contrived to look bored.
“So, you’re not denying it?” Bernie asked when he didn’t reply as she absentmindedly began glancing through the papers on the desk. They seemed to be mostly receipts for auto supplies.
“Do you mind?” Andy said.
“Is there something here you don’t want me to see?” Bernie asked.
Instead of answering, Andy sighed, flicked a dark speck off the front of his pale blue shirt, and shook his head in a gesture more of sorrow than anger. “I know that’s what people say about me, but it’s a lie. I don’t do that kind of thing.” He scratched behind his ear. “That’s the trouble with living in a small town,” he observed. “The gossip. People should mind their own business. If they did, we would all be better off.”
“Andy, my sister and I don’t care if you do or don’t run a bookie operation,” Bernie replied.
Andy put his hand to his chest. “Phew. That’s a relief. I was worried for a minute there. Not. Because I don’t.”
Libby stepped in. “Andy, we just want to know how much Ralph is into you for.”
Andy glanced at his phone for a minute and texted something before answering Libby. “You need to work on your listening skills,” he told her. “How can he be into me for anything when I already said I don’t run that kind of operation?”
“Did you threaten him?” Bernie asked.
“Jeez.” Andy threw his hands in the air. “Give me a break. Are you deaf or what?”
“We need the answer,” Bernie persisted.
“To the secret of life?” Andy retorted. “Don’t we all.”
Andy watched as Libby took two hundred dollars out of her wallet and showed it to him.
“What the hell is that for?” Andy asked.
“To help you remember,” Libby told him.
Andy rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Bernie did her chagrined look. “Put it away, Libby.” She turned to Andy. “I told my sister not to embarrass herself. I told her you wouldn’t endanger your operation for chump change.”
Libby put her hands on her hips. “Since when is two hundred bucks chump change?” she demanded.
Andy snorted. “Obviously, you’re running in the wrong circles.”
Bernie cocked her head. “I told her you’d help us because it’s the right thing to do.”
Andy pantomimed pressing a button. “Bzzt. Wrong answer, Bernie.”
Bernie gave it another try. “And because you want to help us solve Susie Katz’s murder.”
Andy pretended to push the button again. “And it’s another wrong answer, folks,” Andy said, playing a game-show host. “One more wrong answer and our contestants will be eliminated.”
“Just say yes or no,” Bernie urged. “How hard can that be?”
Andy pressed the imaginary button for the third time. “And it’s good-bye to the Simmons sisters. Better luck next time,” he told them.
“That wasn’t a question,” Bernie protested.
“It was in my book,” Andy said.
“Book. Ha-ha. Very funny,” Bernie said.
“I’m glad you think so,” Andy said. He pointed at the door. “I believe our time is at an end. It pains me to say this, but it’s time for you and your sister to leave.”
“You know, we already know that Ralph owes you money,” Bernie said, trying one last tactic.
“Good for you,” Andy replied. “Now, are you going to leave, or am I going to have to have you escorted out?”
“By whom?” Bernie asked. “Because I don’t see anybody here except you.”
Andy smirked. “There will be.”
“Is that whom you were texting?” Bernie demanded.
Andy’s smirk grew bigger. “Why don’t you wait and see?”
Bernie folded her arms across her chest. “Thanks. I think we will.”
Libby tugged at Bernie’s sleeve. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go.”
Bernie planted her feet on the floor. “I think I’d rather stay.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Libby told her.
A fact Bernie regretfully knew to be true. “Fine,” she relented after a minute had gone by as she allowed her sister to drag her away.
“Drop by anytime you want to trade in your van,” Andy told Bernie and Libby on their way out the door. “My offer still stands.”
Chapter 16
“Andy doesn’t give up, does he?” Libby said as she closed the door behind her.
Bernie was about to say, “That’s why he’s a good salesman,” but she was distracted by the sight of two large, shaven-headed, hard-bodied guys, decked out in sweats, wifebeaters, and Ray-Bans, getting out of a rusty pickup truck and walking toward them.
“Looky, looky,” Bernie said as the men got closer. “I think Andy’s cavalry has arrived.”
“Impressive,” Libby said, taking in the view.
“Indeed, they are,” Bernie agreed.
“The guy on the left looks familiar,” Libby noted.
“That’s because he worked as a bouncer at the Metro before he got fired for breaking John Gleason’s arm in two places and stomping on his head.”
“That’s Nino?” Libby said, remembering. For three years, he’d come into the shop twice a week to get three cheese Danish and a large French roast, black, and then he’d stopped coming. “He used to be skinny, and he had a ponytail. He hasn’t been around for a while,” Libby added.
“That’s because he’s been in jail,” Bernie told her. “I thought he got four years.” She stopped to calculate. “Evidently, I was wrong. It’s been less than six months since he went in.”
“Well, that explains the bulking up.” Libby scratched her nose. “Who’s the other one?”
“I think that’s Nino’s cousin.”
Now that she looked, Libby could see a family resemblance. “What’s his story?”
“I heard he got himself in trouble with the wrong people down in Staten Island and decided a change of scene might be beneficial to his general health.”
Libby sneezed, then sneezed two more times. This was turning out to be a bad allergy year. “I wonder if those guys are the guys Andy was texting,” she said once she’d stopped.
“Could be,” Bernie replied. “Although summoning them for us does seem like overkill,” she added. “I mean, we’re not exactly scary. Annoying, yes. Scary, no.”
“I’m glad he did, though,” Libby suggested.
Bernie turned toward her. “How so?”
Libby rubbed her arms. She felt a chill. She wondered why, and then she realized that the temp
erature had dropped and she was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. “Well, if these are the guys who paid Ralph a visit . . .”
“Which we don’t know,” Bernie pointed out.
“I said if,” Libby replied, underlining the last word with her voice.
“Okay. If they did, they would have scared the bejesus out of Ralph,” Bernie observed, going along with Libby’s hypothesis.
Libby nodded. “I mean, we’re not talking about two librarians here. These guys look like members of the brute squad.”
“Indeed, they do.” Bernie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Although Nino looks scarier than he is.”
“I wouldn’t say breaking someone’s arm in two places indicates a placid character,” Libby noted.
“Placid,” Bernie repeated, rolling the word around on her tongue. “I like it. Good word choice.”
Libby nodded. “Although,” she added in the interest of fairness, “Nino has always been nice to me.”
“Me too,” Bernie said. “He’s okay until he starts drinking. Then he gets irritable.”
“Nice to know,” Libby said.
Bernie scratched her chin. “Yeah, I could see where a visit from Nino or his cousin could make Ralph do something rash.”
“It would make me want to get out of town,” Libby said as she studied the sky. Gray clouds were coming in, blocking out the sun. “Or get a gun.”
“Or ask my aunt for money,” Bernie reflected. By now the two men were closer. “Let’s ask them, shall we?” Bernie said to Libby as she started walking toward them.
“If they threatened Ralph?” Libby inquired.
“Well, I’m not asking them out to the prom,” Bernie retorted.
“Ah. And they’re so cute, too.”
“Yes. Adorable in a WWE kind of way.”
“Sure. Why not?” Libby replied. “Bring on the drama.” After all, what was the worst that could happen? Aside from pissing off people you didn’t want to piss off, that is. She sighed. Usually, this was the time she’d be walking away, but that wasn’t an option with Lucy on their backs.
“Hi,” Bernie said when she reached Nino and his cousin.
Nino and his cousin scowled.
“Nice to see you again,” Libby said to Nino. “I didn’t recognize you at first. I like the new you, though,” she told him, appealing to his vanity. “Very Vin Diesel.”
The corners of Nino’s mouth twitched. He smiled despite himself. “You really think so?” he asked her. “You like the whole Mr. Clean look?”
Libby nodded. “But I liked the ponytail, too,” she told him.
“Because this whole shaving the head thing is a lot of work,” Nino confided.
“I would imagine,” Bernie commented. “Not to mention the sunburn factor.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Nino admitted.
“So, when are you coming back to see us again?” Libby asked him.
“Soon,” Nino replied.
“Good,” Libby told him. “Because while we still have the cheese Danish, you might also like our new chocolate croissants. I’ll give you a couple of free samples.” She nodded at Nino’s cousin. “Bring your friend along, too.”
“Cousin,” the cousin said. “I’m his first cousin. And I’m gluten intolerant.”
“We have some gluten-free blueberry and carrot muffins that are quite excellent,” Libby told him. She was about to tell Nino’s cousin about their other options when Bernie started talking.
“So, do you have a name?” Bernie asked the cousin.
Nino and his cousin exchanged a look.
“You can call me Al,” Nino’s cousin said.
“You don’t look like an Al,” Bernie observed.
Nino’s cousin’s smile was as friendly as that of a rattler looking at its prey. “Well, I am,” Al said.
Bernie nodded. “Okay then, Al. My sister and I were wondering how much you and Nino would charge?”
“For what?” Nino said, clearly looking puzzled.
“For collecting some money for us,” Bernie said. “We can pay you guys in free coffee and Danish.” Bernie flashed a particularly charming smile.
“Funny lady,” Nino said.
“I’m serious,” Bernie told him. “We’d really like to hire you. My sister and I understand you were quite ferocious with Ralph Abrams.”
“Who told you that?” Al asked Bernie, and Bernie noted he’d said, “Who told you that?” instead of “Who is Ralph Abrams?”
Bernie nodded in the direction of the trailer. “Andy. He was quite glowing in his recommendation.”
“He was, was he?” Nino growled, sliding into his tough guy persona.
“Definitely,” Bernie replied. “Actually, I was thinking,” she added, “that you could handle our business on the side. You know, when you’re not busy doing stuff for Andy and his crew. We’re losing a fortune in unpaid cinnamon rolls.” She was met by silence. “So, what do you say?” Bernie asked after a minute had gone by.
Nino and Al looked at each other.
“I told you,” Al said to Nino.
“Told him what?” Bernie asked.
“None of your business,” Nino snapped.
Bernie shrugged. “Jeez. Calm down. I’m sorry for asking.”
“Look,” Nino said to Bernie, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you should stop doing it.”
“I’m trying to offer you a job,” Bernie told him. “No need to get your tighty-whities in an uproar.”
“I don’t wear those,” Nino told Bernie. “I wear boxers. Better air flow.”
“More information than I need,” Bernie told him.
Libby jumped into the conversation. “I’m going to level with you.”
“Wow.” Nino folded his arms across his chest and stared at Libby. “The suspense is killing me.”
“Yeah. I can see you’re all agog,” Bernie said.
Nino widened his eyes. “Agog? Somebody buy you the Word of the Day Calendar?”
“Yeah, they did,” Bernie responded. “I can get you one for your birthday if you’d like.”
Nino snorted and readjusted his sunglasses. “Tell you what. Let’s skip the foreplay, stop wasting time, and get right down to it.”
“Let’s,” Libby agreed. “We want to know if you asked Ralph Abrams for the money he owes Andy Dupont,” she explained.
Nino scratched his chin with his thumbnail. “And why would I do that?” he asked.
“Because Andy hired you to do it,” Bernie said.
“And you know this how?” Nino asked her.
“Like I said,” Bernie replied, “Andy told me.”
Al turned to Nino. “Can you believe her?” he asked Nino, gesturing to Bernie with his thumb. “Making up this kind of stuff. How dumb does she think we are?” Then he answered his own question. “Pretty dumb, I’d say.”
Nino held up a hand to indicate that his cousin should stop talking. Then he looked down at Bernie and adjusted his sunglasses for the second time in as many minutes. “Look,” he said. “I like you. I like your sister. I like your cheese Danish, and I think your coffee is great. I enjoy going into your shop. You’ve always been nice to me, so I’m going to give you a word of advice, because I don’t want to hurt you. Stay away from me, and stay away from Andy. He’s not a nice person. Things happen to people he doesn’t like, and he doesn’t like people who poke around in his business.” And then, before Libby and Bernie could say anything else, Nino nodded to his cousin and they both started walking to the trailer.
“Interesting,” Bernie said as she watched the two men enter the trailer.
“You think?” Libby asked.
“Yeah. I do.”
“I don’t know,” Libby replied as they walked back to their van.
“What’s to know, Libby?” Bernie rummaged around her tote for the keys to the van. “Nino practically told us he and his cousin worked for Andy.”
Libby sneezed again. Her eyes were starti
ng to water. She needed to take an allergy pill. “I know what he said. There’s nothing wrong with my hearing. But the whole scenario just seems too neat. We show up at Andy’s and ask him about Ralph, and he throws us out but happens to summon the very people that scared Ralph.”
“I see your point, Libby.”
Libby gestured to herself and her sister. “I mean, look at us. Do we pose a threat? Not likely. All Andy had to do was not say anything, and we’d be on our way. Why bother bringing in the heavy guns?”
“I don’t know.” Bernie shrugged. “Maybe Andy’s a nervous kind of guy. Or maybe you’re right.”
Libby clapped her hands. “Be still, my heart. I never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth.”
Bernie ignored her sister, opened the van’s door, and climbed in. “Personally, I think you’re complicating things, but I guess we’ll see what Ralph has to say.”
Ralph was next on their agenda. Then, if they had time, they’d pay a visit to Evan Molina, the real estate agent, as well.
Chapter 17
As it turned out, Libby and Bernie didn’t get to talk to Ralph that day. There was no one home when they drove up to what they both kept thinking of as the old Connor estate. As they passed by the neon cats, Libby couldn’t help thinking they seemed dimmer, more forlorn, as if they were mourning their mistress’s death.
Gravel crunched under the van’s tires as Bernie parked in front of the house’s main entrance. Then she and Libby got out. The sun had vanished, suddenly covered by black storm clouds, and Bernie thought she felt a few raindrops on her arms. The groundskeeper, who had been trimming the hedges when they’d driven up, put down his shears and came up to them as Libby was about to ring the doorbell.
He was a good-looking guy, on the taller side, and his long hair was tied back in a ponytail. He smiled at them, his face crinkling into an infectious grin. “No one’s home,” he informed the sisters, tipping his baseball cap up and scratching under it. Despite the dip in the temperature, Libby could see that the back of his paint-stained T-shirt was damp with sweat. Then he hiked up his cargo pants and told the sisters that Ralph and Grace had gone out to run some errands.
“You want to leave a message?” he asked.
Bernie shook her head. “Thanks. No need. We’ll come back later.”
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