1 Death on Eat Street (4 page)

“Here.” Miguel handed me the foil-wrapped breakfast and then started his car.

“Thanks. And thank you for coming to get me this morning. I’m sorry I was so messed up. Yesterday was awful. I’m hoping today will be better.”

“Most people going to a police interview aren’t that optimistic. I guess that’s why you can handle your food truck not making much money. Optimism.”

“Uncle Saul was in the food business for thirty years before he retired. He says you have to be patient, like a spider. When the right insect flies into your web, you grab it.”

“I wouldn’t have thought of applying that image to the food business.” He pulled into the heavy traffic, headed for downtown Mobile. “Your uncle must be an interesting character.”

“He’s my father’s brother,” I confided, “but you couldn’t find two men more different if you tried.”

I told him about my father’s close-cut curly hair. Uncle Saul wears his gray-streaked, black curly hair like a big bush on his head. My father wouldn’t be caught dead like that.

“And my father is the president of an old, established bank, while Uncle Saul lives in the swamp in a log cabin he built himself. They don’t get along all that well, either. My father blames that on my mother, but I think they’re too different to be friends.”

“Don’t you believe in opposites attracting?”

“I suppose it all depends. It can happen. I don’t know how long a relationship like that can last.”

“Is that what happened to you and your boyfriend?”

“That’s a little personal. I’ve only known you a few hours, if you don’t count the time I was sleeping.”

He repeated my words back to me. “I’m your lawyer. I have to ask personal questions sometimes.”

I looked at him in his dark suit, white shirt, and blue tie. His clothes today were better than they had been last night. Maybe he’d thrown on whatever he could find to come and help Ollie. Maybe he saved this suit for special occasions.

His black Mercedes was at least ten years old. The brown leather interior was spotless. He maintained what he owned, I considered, but wasn’t making as much money as he had in the past. Possibly a reflection of his problems at the DA’s office?

I knew those attorneys didn’t make much money, either. Intuition told me that somewhere along the way, he’d had money in his life.

I wasn’t rude enough to inquire.

“Are we clear on your statement?” Miguel asked as we pulled into the parking lot for the police station.

“Yes. I know what I need to say.”

“And not say, right? Don’t elaborate on your statement. Look at me before you answer any question they ask you. If I don’t tell you to answer, don’t answer. Are we clear on that?”

“Clear as rain,” I assured him.

We got out of his car and I felt nervous again. I’d been fine while we were talking. Now that I was about to be interviewed, I wasn’t quite so fine.

“What’s wrong?”

“How do I look?” I didn’t move away from the Mercedes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, does my hair look okay? I know it can be a little goofy looking sometimes because it’s curly. Is my lipstick straight? I think the peach color works on me, don’t you?”

“You look good.” He glanced at his watch. “We have two minutes to get upstairs.”

I put my hand on his. “Could you
really
look at me? Am I a mess or something?”

Finally, it seemed that I had his full attention. His brown eyes, with a hint of sherry in them, roamed from my feet to the curls on my head. His gaze lingered on a couple of places that made me take a deep breath.

“You look
really
good, Zoe. Much better than you need to for this interview. Your boyfriend is losing a very lovely lady.”

That assessment, spoken in his sexy baritone, made me feel better.
Too much better
.

I had to be careful, I realized. I was drawn to Miguel, but it was probably just a rebound thing. After all, my relationship had only broken up last night.

Tommy Lee probably didn’t even realize we’d broken up yet at all.

“Thank you.” I fingered the lapel of his suit. “You look very good, too.”

He took my hand, and we got in the elevator.

I had never been in the downtown police station before, even though I was born and raised in Mobile. I guess that you’d have to have some reason to be here. Apparently I’d never had a reason before.

The police station was very busy with what seemed like hundreds of police officers in uniform, and people in all states of dress and undress—probably criminals.

A thin man in uniform at the front desk called Detective Latoure when Miguel told him we were there to see her.

“You showed up,” Detective Latoure greeted us. “I had money on you skipping town.”

Was she talking to me? I looked around. Miguel and I were the only ones within hearing distance, besides the officer at the desk. Why would she think such a thing?

“If you’re saying that you thought I’d leave town rather than come here this morning—”

“Miss Chase has nothing to say about that since she isn’t here to talk about your opinions of her, Patti,” Miguel butted in before I could finish.

It was hard to remember not to talk.

“Maybe we should start easy,” Detective Latoure said. “Did you kill the man you found in your food truck?”

“Of course not!”

“Zoe!” Miguel called out.

Detective Latoure laughed. “I’m gonna enjoy this.”

Since I wasn’t supposed to say anything, I gave Detective Latoure the same look I’d seen my mother use on the gardener and the housekeeper when she wasn’t pleased with them.

I couldn’t tell if it had the same effect on her that it did on them, but it allowed me to put my nose in the air and walk past her to the interview room as though she were someone beneath my notice.

“Have a seat, Miss Chase.” Detective Latoure opened the door to a tiny room with a table and three chairs in it.

There was even a small window that was obviously a two-way mirror, the same as they show in movies and on TV. I wasn’t as familiar with detective shows as I was cooking shows, but I knew that someone was on the other side of the mirror.

Detective Latoure sat down across from me and Miguel. She opened a file and started reading out of it.

I glanced at Miguel. He shook his head and lounged back in his uncomfortable chair, apparently waiting for the detective to make the first move. He seemed completely at ease.

I tapped my fingernails on the table. I needed a manicure. It had been weeks since my last one. I’d been so busy setting up my food truck and cleaning the diner, I’d forgotten many of the niceties.

That was probably one reason Tommy Lee and my mother thought I’d lost my mind.

Detective Latoure put down the file and stared at me for a few minutes.

I stopped tapping my nails and tried not to fidget. The chair was
very
uncomfortable. I hoped Ollie wasn’t right and that I wouldn’t have to spend all day sitting here.

“Miss Chase,” she finally began.

“Call me Zoe. Everyone does.”

Miguel’s dark eyes made it clear that I wasn’t supposed to speak yet. I tried lounging back in my chair as he was. I couldn’t pull off the look and sat back up.

“Okay. Zoe.” Detective Latoure smiled. “You’re from a very well-known family here in Mobile. You’ve had a good education. Auburn, right?”

I looked at Miguel, as I was supposed to. He nodded. “Yes. I went to Auburn.”

That had been easy. I could do this whole talking-when-I-was-supposed-to thing.

“You worked as a loan officer at the Azalea National Bank for the last five years. There are nothing but glowing reviews from the people you worked with, and your supervisors there.”

Did that need an answer? I peeked at Miguel. He didn’t nod. I didn’t speak.

“What are you leading up to, Patti?” Miguel asked. “I don’t think my client needs a history lesson on her own life.”

“I appreciate that, Miguel. My point is that Zoe led a sheltered, uneventful life—until a few weeks ago. Out of the blue, she quit her job, gave up her apartment, decided to open an old diner, and started driving a food truck. Does that sound
normal
to you?”

“
Normal
?” I asked. “Are you saying I’m not normal? And what do you mean uneventful? I’ll be thirty next year. I did all of those things to find my dream. I want to make people happy with my food. I don’t think that makes me a killer.”

Oops.

I could tell I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to. Miguel’s expression was as dark as a thundercloud above Mobile Bay.

Was I supposed to sit there and let this woman disparage my life?

I sat back again. “Sorry.” I was never very good at keeping quiet about anything. I also tend to talk when I’m nervous.

“What’s your point?” Miguel’s voice was calm. “People frequently leave their jobs. How does that have anything to do with the taco truck owner’s death?”

“I’m getting to that,” Detective Latoure promised.

“Let’s expedite it.” Miguel sounded impatient.

“My point is that Zoe is living a very stressful life—
for her
—right now. We know that she and the victim argued yesterday on Dauphin Street in front of a crowd of people at lunch.”

“Argued? He tried to
assault
me.” I tossed out the words like they were firecrackers. “If he wasn’t dead, I’d file charges against him.”

“Really?” Detective Latoure took out a tape recorder. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out because Miguel’s hand went over it.

“I need a moment alone with my client,” he said abruptly.

I knew what that was all about.

Before Detective Latoure could leave the room, the door burst open, and my father strode into the tiny space.

“Zoe! Baby! Are you all right? Why didn’t you call and tell me about all of this? Daddy would’ve taken care of it.”

Daddy was an impressive man. He was tall, broad shouldered, lean, and fit for a sixty-something-year-old. He was tan from his frequent fishing trips. He was always going on cruises and sailing to exotic places since he and my mother had divorced.

He was dressed to the hilt in an expensive gray suit and a red tie. He even wore the matching onyx cuff links and tie tack I’d given him for his last birthday.

He knew how to make an entrance. Funny how much he suddenly reminded me of Tommy Lee.

“Daddy!” I ran and threw my arms around his neck. I was very happy to see him. If anyone could understand and make all of this go away, it was him.

“I’ll give you all a few minutes to sort yourselves out.” Detective Latoure got to her feet, taking her file with her.

Before she could leave, my father stepped forward and shook her hand. “I’m Ted Chase, president of Bank of Mobile. I’m sure there’s been some terrible mistake, ma’am.”

Detective Latoure shook his hand and smiled. “I hope for your daughter’s sake that’s true, Mr. Chase.”

I thought I heard Detective Latoure mutter, “And my sake, too,” as she walked by me and out of the room. I could’ve been mistaken about that.

Once the door was closed behind her, my father turned to Miguel. “Ted Chase. You are?”

“Miguel Alexander.” They shook hands. “Your daughter’s attorney.”

“So I heard.” My father stared at Miguel. “I think we should consider someone else, Zoe. Your mother has a good friend who is an excellent criminal lawyer.”

I glanced apologetically at Miguel. Maybe by this time he was hoping I’d find another lawyer, too. I still had confidence in him. I hoped he still felt the same about me.

“Daddy, I like Miguel. I want him to represent me.”

“I know you do, angel. I think we should consider your mother’s experience in all this. She wasn’t very happy with your choice.”

“I wasn’t happy with hers, either. He wanted me to pretend that I was having a meltdown or something. He wanted to blame the murder on me because I quit my job and bought the diner. The police detective sounds just like him. I don’t need that kind of negativity.”

Daddy glanced away. “Honey, I want to support you through this terrible time. I’m here for you, whatever you need. We’ll fight this together. If they find you guilty, we’ll make sure you never see the inside of a prison. There are several good hospitals in the state.”

I stared at my handsome father, thinking about all the time we’d spent together while I was growing up. We’d done everything from playing tennis to sailing. He was right. He’d always been there for me.
Until now.

What was wrong with everyone?

“Daddy, there was a dead man in my food truck. I can’t sell my biscuit bowls because my vehicle has been impounded. People think I killed this man. Do you have any idea how I feel right now?”

He smiled. “No, pumpkin. How do you feel?”

“Angry!” I yelled. “I’m
really
angry. I want Miguel to be my lawyer—I don’t care what Mom says. I don’t care what
you
say. Can you handle that?”

“Of course.” He smiled at Miguel. “I know you’ll do a good job for my daughter.”

“Thank you for your confidence. But I can’t do anything if your daughter won’t listen to me. I told her to keep her comments to herself about what we’d said. She keeps trying to incriminate herself.”

“Sorry.” I felt really foolish. He was trying to help me. It made me so angry for people to think that I killed Terry, especially since that made me stupid enough to hide his body in my own food truck.

“I can’t represent you if you won’t listen to me.” Miguel’s very sincere dark eyes fixed on me. “You have to let me do the talking unless I tell you to speak. If you can’t do that, Zoe, I’m leaving.”

“Don’t leave. I won’t say anything else. I promise.”

“Okay. Let’s bring Detective Latoure back in. This time, stay quiet.”

“I will.” I pulled the imaginary zipper across my lips.

My father decided to stay in the interview room with us. Detective Latoure came back, this time with no folder in hand.

“We’re ready,” Miguel told her.

“I’m very happy to tell you that we’ve made an arrest in this case, Miguel. Your client is free to go. She’s no longer on our person of interest list. I’m sorry if we’ve caused you any distress, Zoe. Have a nice day.”

“Was it his partner?” I asked the detective.

“I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to discuss that matter.”

“You dragged me in here and acted like I murdered Terry. Surely I deserve to know who you’ve arrested,” I argued.

Detective Latoure took a deep breath and glanced at my father. “It will be out in the media later today anyway. I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ve taken a waitress from the area into custody. We think that she was Terry’s Bannister’s lover at one time. Her name is Delia Vann.”