Like Coffee and Doughnuts

by Ellle Parker

  Eventually, the conversation turned to Darryl Serrano and what the hell we thought was going on surrounding him and the strange string of events over the past few days. Although I was pretty sure he’d been responsible for both the breakin at Seth’s and the disturbance at Ernie’s, I had no proof whatsoever, and even if I did, that still didn’t explain the man’s death. I don’t like coincidences very much, and this one was about as fishy as it gets.

  “That reminds me,” I said, pulling out my cellphone. “I’ve been meaning to check in on Ernie.”

  “Good idea,” Seth said. “While you do that, I’ll order dinner. How do gyros sound? My treat.”

  “Hey, did hell just freeze over?”

  “Yeah, fuck you,” he said, getting up and tossing his beer bottle. “I buy plenty and you know it.”

  I grinned and told him gyros were fine, then dialed Ernie’s number. He sounded perfectly healthy when he answered, and I said, “Hey, how’s it going?”

  “Can’t complain. We’ve had a pretty quiet couple of days here, which is nice for a change.”

  “That’s good to hear. I wanted to find out if you’ve had any more trouble since the alarm went off.”

  “Nope. Everything’s been fine,” Ernie said. “Hey, did you hear about that guy, though? Talk about having a bad week.”

  “Yeah, I caught it on the news last night.”

  “The guy’s brother-in-law called today, wants to stop in and pick up the personal effects we got out of the car. He’s in town helping the family deal with everything as quickly as possible. I guess it hit them pretty hard and they don’t want to drag it out any longer than necessary.”

  “I can see that,” I said. What I was thinking was it seemed pretty unlikely to me that in the wake of a sudden death, anyone would be hot to retrieve a porn novel, some matches and a tire gauge. “Did he say when he was going to drop by?”

  “Some time tomorrow, I guess. Sounded like early afternoon most likely. Why?”

  “I might try to be there, check the guy out. You know me, always curious.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity, Dino,” he said with a grin in his voice.

  “Yeah, yeah. That’s why I don’t have a cat.”

  Ernie laughed. “Well, feel free to stop in. You’re welcome anytime.”

  “Thanks, man, have a good night.”

  I stuck my phone in my pocket and opened another beer as Seth was coming back from ordering dinner. He looked as skeptical as I was when I told him about Serrano’s brother-in-law, but he was in favor of blowing it off for more pleasant conversation, such as his campaign to change my view of him. So, I let it drop and spent the evening playing hard to get just for the fun of making him try.

  Chapter 13

  After a morning’s worth of fairly fruitless cold calling, I picked up a sandwich and coffee for lunch and headed in the direction of Ernie’s. I wanted to see this guy who claimed to be Serrano’s brother-in-law. For one thing, I didn’t buy the story as told, and for another, I had a pretty good idea why he really wanted the stuff from Serrano’s car.

  I had the package with me in my briefcase, and I planned to slip it into the box when I got a chance. We’d already had a taste of what happened when someone went looking for that notebook and came up empty, and I didn’t want to provoke any more violence. I was also interested to see what he’d do when he had it, but beyond that I didn’t have a plan.

  I parked in my usual spot across the street and wandered over, eating the last corner of my sandwich.

  Ernie was just shaking hands on a deal and sent the guy toward the office so he could come talk to me. He shook his head. “You never fail to amuse me, Dino. I knew you’d show up.”

  “What can I say?” I shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

  “Well, your timing is good. He just called, he’s on his way over right now.”

  “Great,” I said. “Let me take a look at the stuff before he gets here.”

  “Sure. What are you looking for, anyway?”

  “If I knew, it wouldn’t be a mystery.”

  Ernie rolled his eyes and led the way into the office. I know I was being cagey with him, but it was mostly the truth. What I really needed was a chance to put the package back so it could be found.

  Inside, Ernie pointed to a stack of boxes in the hall closet. “They’re right where you guys left them. Well, except for a couple the owners already came to get. I haven’t had time to deal with them.”

  That was all to the good as far as I was concerned. I didn’t think Ernie would have been too terribly bent out of shape, but I preferred not to tell him that I’d been withholding items from the cars, since I don’t actually make a habit of that. I stalled until his back was turned, and did a little sleight of hand. When I carried the box over to the sales desk, everything was as it should’ve been.

  I took out the book and thumbed through it several times to see if there was anything stuck between the pages. There wasn’t. I even checked all the matchbooks for phone numbers or messages, but they were blank too. Whatever Serrano’s weird gig was, it centered on that package.

  We had a few minutes, so I poured myself a cup of coffee and talked shop with Ernie and his receptionist, who’s cute, but kind of a severe gal. She keeps the paperwork in line, but I wouldn’t want to deal with her every day.

  A gleaming black SUV pulled into the lot and parked smack in the middle of everything, like he owned the place. The door opened and a slick looking suit with mirrored sunglasses got out. He had short, sandy blond hair, and a bored expression. He looked like money.

  When he came in, he sized us up and decided Ernie was the guy he needed to talk to. “Ira McCann,” he said, extending a hand. “I believe we spoke on the phone earlier.”

  Ernie shook hands with him and said, “Yes, sir. I’m very sorry for your loss. We have your brother-in-law’s effects right here.”

  He led McCann over to the box and McCann peered in, noting the contents with efficient disinterest. He placed both palms on the edges of the box and said, “Now, this is everything that was in the car?”

  “Absolutely,” Ernie said, falling all over himself to impress the guy. “We’re very meticulous about that. This is the guy right here, Dino Martini.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “He does all our repo work, he’s a licensed private investigator, bonded and everything. You can’t ask for anyone more reliable.”

  I cringed. Why didn’t he tell him my address and dick size while he was at it? I bit my tongue and nodded. McCann raised an eyebrow, but only nodded back.

  “Well then,” he said, scooping up the box, “it seems that everything is in order. Do you need me to sign a receipt?”

  “Yeah, right here.” Ernie slid the paperwork across the table and handed him a pen.

  McCann scrawled a hasty signature on it and left. I was faced with a decision—let it go and swallow the nagging itch of an unsolved mystery, or follow him. And do what? Peek in his windows? Eavesdrop on his phone calls? I didn’t think so.

  Ernie was hotfooting it out to the lot to check on some prospective customers, so I gave him a wave and went back to my car. I felt a strange mix of relief and dissatisfaction. It annoyed the crap out of me to leave something unsolved, but in this case, it wasn’t mine to solve anyway. I opted, instead, to focus on something I could finish. My office.

  With that decision made, I turned in the direction of home and planned to spend some time in the store taking measurements.

  I was about halfway there when my cellphone rang. “Dino Martini.”

  “Ah, Mr. Martini.” It was the slick from Ernie’s place, with his bizarrely cultured speech. He sounded very East Coast. “We met earlier, at the car dealership. The gentleman was kind enough to give me your number when I called him. If I remember correctly, he said you were a private investigator?”

  “That’s right. Something I can do for you?”

  “As a matter of fact there is. There are some unusual items in Darr
yl’s effects, and I’m wondering if you might be able to shed some light on them. The whole family is just terribly broken up over his death, and I have some concerns.”

  “Unusual items,” I said, “really? Boy, I sure don’t remember anything out of the ordinary.”

  “No, you might not. I didn’t notice it at first, either. Not until I pulled over for lunch and got curious.”

  Didn’t notice it, my ass. “I’d be glad to take a look at anything you got. When would you like to meet?”

  “I don’t suppose you’re free at the moment?” he asked. “You see, I need to be getting back to Miami, and I’d like to have all this unpleasant business wrapped up.”

  I was already making a U-turn. “Works fine for me. Where are you now?”

  “A restaurant called the Longhorn Steakhouse. It’s not very far from the dealership.”

  “I know the place,” I said. It was one of Ernie’s favorites, and I’d bought more than my fair share of steak there, for both him and Seth. “I can be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I appreciate you taking the time, Mr. Martini.”

  We hung up and I spent the drive trying to figure out this guy’s angle. When I heard he was coming, I’d been pretty damn sure he knew exactly what he was looking for. So, why did he need me? I tossed out the idea that he was legit, because I just couldn’t buy it. More likely, he hadn’t bargained on the notebook being in code.

  I spotted his SUV as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, but went around the side to keep Matilda out of sight. I prefer to put her in the shade, anyway.

  Inside, the crowd was light and he wasn’t hard to spot. He stood and shook my hand when I came up to his table, then invited me to sit. I ordered a beer, and we got down to business.

  Not surprisingly, McCann pulled the package out of his coat pocket and laid it on the table. I feigned polite interest as he slid it over to me. “Is this the unusual item?” I asked, reaching for it.

  “Yes, I’m concerned due to some of the contents.” He paused and took a sip of his wine. “Darryl was quite a black sheep, you might say, and I would hate to see some of his indiscretions come back to haunt the family.”

  I opened the envelope and tipped the familiar items onto the table. Everything was there, just as I’d left it. I made like I was examining the keys and the card, but I was paying more attention to McCann out of the corner of my eye. “And you don’t know what or who these belong to?” I asked.

  He shrugged and shook his head. “I have no idea. He didn’t drive a new car. I suppose you know that, of course.”

  I smiled and opened the notebook, flipping through the pages slowly. “I certainly can see why you thought this was unusual,” I said, laying it open to one of the coded pages.

  “Do you think you can figure out what it means?” he asked, overplaying the concerned innocence. “Find out if he was in some kind of trouble?”

  I thought it over for a minute, weighing my options. Yeah, it could be kind of dangerous, but my decision seemed pretty clear. I’d get to continue investigating the package and get paid for it. Hard to see the downside there.

  “Three hundred a day, plus expenses,” I said, accepting the job. “First day up front.”

  The guy took out his wallet and gave me three-fifty in large bills. Clearly, affording my services was not going to be an issue. “I hope that’s sufficient to cover your expenses for now,” he said smoothly. “If not, please let me know.”

  He pulled out a business card also, and handed that over. I glanced at it before shoving it in my suit pocket with the money. It had nothing more than his name and contact numbers, no business information.

  As I packed up the envelope, I said, “It’ll probably take me a couple of days to get a lead on this and figure out where to go from there. I’ll give you a call with a report, but if you have any questions, you’ve got my number. Are you heading back to Miami today?”

  “I believe so. There’s not much left for me to do here.” He watched my hands intently as I worked, and I wondered if it bothered him to give it up so soon. He’d just gotten a hold of it. Still, it probably wasn’t much use to him if he didn’t know what it meant. I was curious as to what he did know about all this, but of course, I couldn’t ask him.

  That evening, I sat at my desk with the package in front of me yet again. I was right back where I’d started, only three hundred dollars richer. I tried to call Seth to let him know what was going on, but only got his voicemail. That wasn’t unusual. If he was hip deep in someone’s engine, he rarely bothered to answer.

  In the meantime, I got to work. I was already familiar with everything, so I started with the notebook, turning to the first page. The lone phone number. It was easy to figure that out. My laptop was on, so I pulled up the Miami White Pages and plugged the number in. No hits. I tried the Yellow Pages. Bingo. The number was for Sammy Chan’s Seafood & Chinese Takeout.

  I flipped open my cellphone and dialed the number, looking at my watch. Right in the middle of dinner rush. That was good, they’d be too busy to think real hard.

  “Chan’s,” came the answer. “Can I take your order?”

  “Uh, yeah, ah…I gotta’ order dinner for my boss,” I said with a nasal tone, trying to sound as dumb as possible. “But he didn’t say what he wanted. I thought maybe you guys keep regulars on file or something?”

  “Get real, man.” A female voice with way too much attitude. I could hear a ton of noise in the background. “We don’t keep anything like that. You’ll have to figure it out on your own. You want to order now or call back?”

  I toyed with the idea of yanking her chain for a while to teach her a lesson about manners, but decided against it. She was the type who’d just hang up on me, anyway.

  “No, I’ll have to call you back,” I said. And then she did hang up.

  I hadn’t honestly expected to gain much, and even if I had, what would knowing Serrano’s preference in Chinese cuisine get me? If the restaurant had any significance at all, I would have to be able to drop Serrano’s name, and that would only work if it was to the right person, under the right circumstances.

  I pulled out a pad of paper and jotted down what I knew so far. That was a hell of a short list. After that, I reached for my file on the latest batch of repossessions, which I still had on my desk because it held the rap sheet for Serrano. I made copies of all the paperwork for the Corvette and started a new folder.

  My phone rang, and I saw it was Seth, which hit me in a completely different way than it used to. Now, instead of thinking immediately of food and beer, I started thinking about the weight of his body, and sex.

  “Talk to me,” I said.

  “What are you wearing, Dino?” he asked in a sultry voice.

  “Little Bo Peep costume, how ’bout you?”

  “Oh, dear God, so many sheep fucking jokes, so little time. We may actually have to try that one of these days.”

  “I am not fucking you wearing a pinafore.”

  “Come on, dude, loosen up,” he said. “This might be a good time to tell you about my secret life as a furry.”

  “A what?”

  “Oops, that’s right, you’re a dinosaur. Never mind.”

  “Did you call for a reason?”

  “Of course I did. I want to see you, man.”

  “You didn’t get enough of me last night?”

  “Nope.”

  “Or the night before?”

  “Nope.”

  I smirked. He may be in his thirties, but he sure doesn’t act it. I said, “What are you, insatiable? You’ll give me a heart attack.”

  “Do you know what I’m doing right now, Dino?”

  “Ah, talking on the phone?”

  “That only takes one hand…” I could hear the grin in his voice.

  “Okay,” I said, “I’ll bite. Where’s the other one?”

  “Down the front of my boxers, stroking my cock while I listen to your voice.”

  “You�
��re not serious.”

  “Yes, I am,” he said, sounding a little breathless, which got me thinking maybe he really was. “I’m sitting here with my coveralls open, and my jeans unzipped, and my hand in my underwear.”

  “And when did you start doing this?” I asked, leaning back in the chair. I put my feet up on the desk, and took a sip of my drink. Things were about to get entertaining.

  “About ten minutes ago.”

  “You can last ten minutes?”

  “Fuck you, Dino,” he snapped.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m sitting in the front seat of Mrs. Beasley’s Oldsmobile, with the seat back.”

  “You’re whacking off in some old lady’s car? You really are a sick little shit.”

  “You know I am,” he said. “Come on, I want to hear you too.”

  “You want me to jerk off on the phone with you?”

  “Hell yeah, Dino, whip it out. Guys rack up huge credit card bills for the experience you’re about to have.”

  He moaned, probably louder than necessary, but it was enough to get me hard, and I could picture him leaning back in a car seat with his eyes closed and his mouth open, running his hand over his cock. I felt my skin go hot.

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, putting down my glass and unbuckling my belt.

  “Ooh, yes…” he moaned. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  I got my pants unzipped and was pushing my shorts out of the way, when the memory of Seth stretched out on that lawn chair came back to me, and I could see him arching his back and rocking his hips into his own hand. “Jesus,” I gasped as I grabbed my dick.

  Seth’s breath was ragged in my ear, so close I expected him to lick me at any moment. “Mmm…that’s good, Dino. Tell me you’re doing it.”

  “I am,” I said. “I was just thinking about you in the yard yesterday, behind the garage.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You liked that.” Seth was panting now.

  I fisted myself steadily to get as close to the edge as I could. “That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. You should always wear sunglasses when you jerk off.”