I plopped onto the sofa. "How much time?" I held up my hands. "I'm not trying to pressure you. Just wondering."
Zelda threw a leg over the arm of the chair and scooched further down in her seat. "I don't know, but I can't think this through when I'm around you." I started to protest but she held up her hand. "Don’t get your feelings hurt, I’m not dumping on you. But here's the thing roomie. I already know what you think. And that's cool — you can think what you want. But I need to figure out what I think. Do you understand?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I understand.” My eyes welled with tears. "And I'm sorry. About the fight. About everything. I didn't mean any of the stuff I said. I swear."
She nodded and smiled sadly. "I know. Me too." Her big dark eyes sparkled with tears. "Look, you’re my best friend and I'd do anything for you. But I can't not live my life because it might hurt your feelings. You get that, right?"
I swatted at my tears and stood. "Enough of this mushy stuff. You want some coffee or something?"
She pulled herself out of the chair. "Henry's waiting for me." She went to the door and paused. "How's it going with the truck?"
I shrugged. "It's okay. Ted's brother Matt is helping for now." I pouted and pointed a finger at her. "And thanks to you, Ted has moved in temporarily.”
Zelda chuckled. "So he can keep you safe from all the boogie men and shit?"
I laughed. "Yup, Captain America never sleeps."
Zelda nodded. "You lucked out with that one. Okay roomie, take care."
I took a couple steps toward her. "But when will I see you again?"
She shrugged. "A few days. Henry extended his stay, but he has to be back next week."
"So you're staying with Henry?" I held up my hand. "I know, I’m being nosy but I hate to think of you all alone in a crappy motel room."
"I'll talk to you in a few days."
I grabbed her remote and key from the entry table.” Wait! You forgot your clicker and key."
Zelda put them in her pockets then opened the door. "Okay, see you later."
From the window, I watched her turn the jeep around and pull out to the street. And I felt like a little kid being ditched at the zoo. Not sure at all if Zelda was coming back. I couldn't bear the idea of her leaving me, but she had to do what was right for her. I had Ted, and the food truck was my idea and my dream, not hers. Zelda needed to find her own dream, and it seemed she was ready to do that. Maybe being a rancher's wife was it. The thought made me want to cry and pull my hair out, but if that made her happy, I'd learn to live with it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Friday marked the end of a long and bizarre week. We worked Burbank in the morning, then worked my general neighborhood for the rest of the day. Stopping along Foothill Boulevard from Sunland to La Cañada and then back again. Our usual Friday tradition had been to stop at Sunland Park after completing the route and feeding our homeless buddies. But the last three weeks had been anything but usual.
With the exception of the night I gave Mike a ride to the thrift store, I hadn’t seen the guys since Ron disappeared. It occurred to me that Ron’s death had spooked them into staying away from Sunland Park. That it now possessed bad juju and was to be avoided at all costs. Except that they hadn’t resurfaced in any of their other usual haunts either. Though they were nomads lost in an uncaring society, they didn’t have the resources to move to another state — and probably not to another city either. My gut told me they were hunkered down at Crescenta Valley Park, and I was determined to follow my instincts.
We parked on the street near the parking lot and opened for business. The big trees at the edge of the park offered lots of shade and cool grass to plop down on and enjoy a piece of pie. If I’d gone there to sell pie and coffee — I was on a recon, and the truck was the cover I needed. Just seeing the truck might draw them in — if they were to come out their hidey hole.
But while I peered out the window looking for my weary warriors, park visitors stepped up wanting to place orders. It distracted me from my mission but also worked in my favor by adding to my cover. I scanned the park while I served. Plenty of people walking their dogs or reading under the trees but no sign of my chums. I asked a few customers if they'd seen any homeless men in the park, offering basic descriptions, but no one knew anything. In reality, people have a blind spot for the homeless — a guy pushing a shopping cart and wearing dirty clothes didn’t register.
I sold a lot of pie and coffee but didn’t achieve my mission. My instincts had steered me wrong. After serving the last mocha shake, I was ready to go home and started to close the window.
"Ma'am?"
I stuck my head out the window. "Hello?"
A light rap sounded at the door. I figured it was Matt so I turned and opened it. Little Joe stood on the pavement looking up at me. He smiled shyly. “Ma’am.”
I motioned him inside. "Get in here."
He stepped up on the runner and hoisted himself inside. Reaching behind him I shut the door. "Where have you guys been? I've been worried about you."
"You got any pies?"
I propped myself against the counter. "So that's it? You just want pie? Nothing else to say for yourself?"
Little Joe wrinkled his brow. "Mike wants pie too."
I pointed to the door. "Get out." Little Joe stood stock still. I pointed at the door again. "I said, get out! You want pie? Then you go out there and bring all of them back with you." I pointed to the serving window. "Then you stand at this window and ask for pie. That's the only way you're going to get pie out of me."
Little Joe frowned, not at me, but at a thought in his head.
I reached behind him and banged the door open. "Go!"
Little Joe snapped into action, backed out of the door, and down to the pavement. Then he stopped and looked up at me.
I held up five fingers. "You've got five minutes. If you're not back by then, I'm leaving." I closed the door and locked it.
A few seconds later someone knocked on the door again. “I’m warning you!” I flung open the door and a confused Matt frowned at me.
"Dude, are you okay?" He climbed into the truck and closed the door. Inquisitive eyes wandered the small space looking for intruders. "Who were you yelling at?"
I wiped down the counter angrily. "No one. Just having a discussion with a customer."
He looked around again. "Scotti, what's happening?"
"Ma'am?"
We both turned to the serving window. Little Joe. Again. Alone. He placed a piece of paper on the ledge. A note from Mike telling me to call with a phone number.
I frowned at Little Joe. "All right." Little Joe didn't move. In his mind he'd complied with my order, and he was now entitled to pie. I filled a sack with chocolate milks, napkins, paper plates and plastic forks. Then I grabbed two boxed apple pies from the fridge and placed them on the ledge. "There's your pie." I passed the sack through the window to him. "Here's your milk. You tell Mike he'll be hearing from me."
Little Joe bowed his head slightly, placed the paper sack on top of the pies and carried it away. Moving swiftly, he disappeared behind a stand of pines.
Matt watched with curiosity, then looked at me. "Friend?"
I'd forgotten Matt was still there. "Just a homeless guy I help out now and then. Actually Ted introduced me to him and his crew."
Matt frowned and scratched his chin. "Oh yeah." He nodded. "Right, those guys."
I raised a brow. "You know them?"
Matt shook his head. "Nah, just know who you mean." He bent down and stuck his head out the serving window. "He's one of the homeless dudes that disappeared?" He pulled his head back inside and turned to me. "After that other dude offed himself?"
I smirked and shook my head. "You guys tell each other everything, huh?" I locked the serving window. "Yeah, they’re the reason I wanted to stop here." I blew a strand of hair off my forehead. "I thought they might be staying here. And I guess I was right."
Matt shook his head. "Nah,
they aren't hiding out here. Too open. Too nice. Can't really disappear in a place like this."
I frowned. "Sure you could. All those trees." I pointed through the window. "And those hills behind the park, there'd be plenty of hiding places."
Matt shook his head. "Dude, be serious." He scratched his jaw. "Probably the Wash."
I frowned at him. "How do you know about the Wash?" I put my hands on my hips. "And if it's too open here, then why isn't it too open in the Wash?"
Matt rolled his eyes like he was explaining something obvious to a dumb girl. "Because dude there's caves and tunnels and all kinds of places in the Wash."
I leaned against the counter and cocked my head. "Caves? Tunnels? Have you been there?"
Matt gave me an impish grin. "Maybe, when I was little guy."
I wanted to pounce on Matt and make him tell me where these places were, then talk him into taking me there. Except that what you tell one Jordan you tell all of them. Ted’s head would explode if he knew I planned to tramp through caves and tunnels looking for the guys. And that was the end of that idea.
Matt frowned. "Scotti, what's with the face?"
I looked up and shook my head. "Just thinking."
Matt waved an arm toward the window. "About those guys?"
I studied him for a few seconds, trying to decide if I should ask him about Ted and the war. Matt was young when Ted was in Iraq and might not remember or might not want to remember. "Kind of about those guys." I tilted my head. "But more about how they've got Ted rattled."
Matt frowned. "What do you mean?"
I shrugged. "You know…because they're vets too — like Ted."
Matt lost his grin and his chin dropped to his chest. "Yeah." He looked away. "Dark stuff."
"You were just a little kid when Ted was over there, yeah?"
Matt chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded.
"Must've been hard to see your big brother go off to that place."
Matt shook his head and stared at the floor. "No, man."
I furrowed my brow. "No? It wasn't hard?"
Matt twisted his lips. "Scotti man, no I can't talk about that stuff."
Disappointed, I sighed. "Guess that runs in the family too."
Matt put his hand on my shoulder. "Nah Scotti, it’s not like that. You're a good lady. And I'm glad you and Ted hooked up. You make him happy, you know? But that stuff…” He shook his head. “You gotta ask him yourself. It ain’t my story to tell. Right?"
I patted his arm. "You're right." I frowned at him. "I'm just worried about him. I'm just trying to understand."
Matt made a face as he had an internal debate. He looked at me. "Be patient. You know? Give him time."
<<>>
Matt left and my work week was finished. I'd survived without Zelda but I wasn’t happy about it. Matt was great and had saved my butt by stepping in, but he was no Zelda. It just wasn’t the same without her.
I sighed and refocused because I had to start the five-tier cake for Tom's and Ginny's anniversary party. Melinda ambushed me into making it by casually bringing up the party which prompted Ted to brag about my baking superpowers, anxious to impress his mother. By simply using an expectant look, Melinda got me to volunteer to make the cake. And even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I knew she was counting on me to screw it up. So, she’d have yet another example of why I wasn't the right girl for her son. And while I’m a failure at many things, cakes aren’t one of them. And since Melinda and I were locked into this never ending competition, the cake had to be awe-inspiring.
At my request, Ted gave me pictures of Tom's and Ginny's wedding to study. I decided to make a smaller version of their wedding cake but jazzing it up by doing five different layers; butter cream, dark chocolate, lemon, coconut, and mocha. It was a lot of extra work but proving Melinda wrong inspired me like nothing else.
To take it up a notch further, I had a custom cake topper made. Among the photos was one of Tom and Ginny feeding each other wedding cake. I took that photo to a specialty confectioner and had him print the image onto a frosted, heart-shaped cookie. The cookie photo would sit on the top layer with bride and groom figurines holding it between them. If there was a dry eye in the place after the cake was displayed, I'd turn in my baker's license and hang up my apron for good.
While the cake layers were baking I covered the butcher-block with parchment paper and piped frosting orchids to embellish the cake. When I finished, I used an Exacto knife to cut a square around each, so that each flower had its own backing. I transferred flowers to a cookie sheet and put it into the fridge. The flowers would be set by the next morning and decorating the cake would be a breeze.
The cake layers were cooling on the back counter when Ted arrived. He whistled. "That's a whole lotta cake, missy." He sucked in a deep breath and walked toward the back counter. "Any extras?"
I hip-bumped him away from the counter. "You keep your paws to yourself you big gorilla."
He looked around the kitchen. "So if we’re not having cake for dinner what are we having?"
I smacked my forehead. "Crap, I knew I forgot something." I ran my hands under the faucet and wiped them on my apron. "Want to order a pizza?" I pulled off my apron and tossed it on the counter. "I'm all cooked out."
He took me by the hand and led me to the front room where a large pizza and a six-pack of Sam Adams sat on the coffee table. "Am I the best boyfriend ever or what?”
I left the beer to Ted, but we went slice for slice on the pizza until we were down to the final slice.
Ted poised his hand over the box. "I'm bigger than you. Bigger body needs more fuel."
I slapped his hand away. "So what? I’m still hungry."
"Rock paper, scissors?"
I won. I always win. That last piece of pizza was delicious.
We cuddled on the sofa, watched movies, and made out. Not the most exciting date, but it was all I could handle after the week we’d had. Halfway through the second movie, I dragged myself off the sofa and cleared the dinner trash. "Bed time."
I carried the trash to the kitchen and tossed it. The cake layers were cooled and I covered them with cheesecloth. Still nervous I'd forget something in the morning, I pulled out everything I’d need and placed it on the butcher-block. I heard voices coming from the front room. "Who are you talking to?"
I switched off the kitchen lights and went to the front room. "Ted?" He stood next to the answering machine and frowned at it. "What's the matter?"
He flicked me a look, then hit PLAY. An electronic voice informed me that I had three messages:
"I'm still watching you." Click. End of message.
"How's your new gate working out for you?" Click. End of message.
"That little dog of yours is so cute — and friendly." Click. End of message.
The machine beeped, then returned to ANSWER mode.
Ted’s look demanded an explanation.
I frowned at him. "Since when do you help yourself to my messages?" I pointed to the machine. "Was there a sign on it that said, play me?”
He flapped a hand at me. "That's not the point…"
I squinted at him. "Isn’t it? Just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean you have the right to invade my privacy. I didn't ask you to check my messages. You didn't ask me if I wanted you to check them. Yet you took it upon yourself to do it." I waved an arm at him. "Not cool, Ted."
He held up his hands. "Okay fine. I should've asked. I'm expecting a call, and I left this number with the service."
"I believe you have a cell phone."
"It's charging in my car."
"Oh.” I backed off my high horse. “Well you should've asked first anyway."
"Who's the guy on the message?"
“Who are you expecting a call from?”
Ted sighed loudly. “A client. Come on Scotti, who’s the guy on the phone?”
I shrugged. "How do I know? Some perv with too much time on his hands."
T
ed smirked. "Nice try. Now tell me the truth."
"I don't know." I tried to walk past him but he caught me by the arm. “Ted take it easy!”
Eyes blazing he said, "I know you know who it is, so just tell me."
I scowled at him. "You're just going to get pissed."
“I’m already pissed.”
I plopped onto the sofa. "Fine! It’s Beidemeyer.”
He clenched his hands at his sides. “I knew you were still poking around in Ron’s death. Damn it, Scotti.”
M.urder R.eady to E.at (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 2) Page 21