1 Death on Eat Street (9 page)

It was good advice. I had a feeling you had to be tall, mean-looking, and big as a mountain to scare someone away with only a glance and a few words. The thief probably would have laughed at me if I’d tried it.

Maybe I needed to start building some muscle. Of course then I’d have to shave my head and have it tattooed. I was pretty sure it was the whole look.

Delia came out of the front of the truck where she’d been reading a magazine and looked around. “Is everything all right?”

That meant we got to tell the story again.

While we were telling her all about it, I thought back to what the young man had said.

“He thought we had something of Terry’s,” I told Delia. “He wanted the money and something he thought we had.”

“Don’t pay any attention to that,” Ollie advised. “He was probably just saying that because he saw it on TV.”

Delia seemed doubtful, and even a little nervous after that. I asked her what she thought, but she shrugged and walked away.

“What should we do about the gun?” I asked Ollie.

“What kind is it?”

“I’m not really sure.” I stepped closer to it on the pavement and inspected it without touching it. “I don’t really know much about guns. I think it’s real, if that helps.”

Ollie went back inside the food truck. “It’s too small to be any good—like that boy. Just throw it over there in the bushes. That’s what everyone does before they go inside.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

He shrugged, and started stirring the warming gumbo.

That idea didn’t sit well with me. I called over the next police officer I saw going into the building and pointed out the gun. He thanked me and picked it up.

Maybe I should have told him about the boy who’d left it there. After the incident the night before at the diner, I thought not. Nothing really happened.

Things were dead slow for about an hour. I put the harness on Crème Brûlée and let him relieve himself on a little patch of grass across the street. I hoped it wouldn’t be long before he began staying at the diner by himself while I was working.

A few customers came by and bought biscuit specials after that. I was getting anxious about lunch. I hoped I had enough food. I hoped I had enough customers to eat all the food. My stomach was jumping around like a fish out of water.

It was ten thirty when the Suzette’s Crepes food truck pulled up beside us. A man almost as big as Ollie jumped out of the truck and quickly headed our way.

“I think this could be trouble,” I told my companion.

“He doesn’t look like trouble to me,” Ollie said. “He looks hungry. Probably starving to death eating crepes. What kind of food is that for a man to live on anyway?”

Sure enough, the man came and pounded on the back door. I couldn’t let Ollie take all the tough situations. “Can I help you?”

“You can get your biscuits out of my spot,” he roared back. “I was here yesterday. You can’t come in and take someone’s place.”

“I didn’t see your name on it.” Ollie loomed up behind me. “Go find your own spot. Get up earlier. We were here first.”

Suzette, or whatever his name was, didn’t like that idea.

He kicked the tire on my food truck as he walked by. “You really want a battle?” he asked as he came to the open customer window. “I’ll give you a battle.”

“Maybe we should move,” I whispered to Ollie. “I really don’t want a battle.”

“What’s he gonna do—throw his little crepes at us?”

Suzette (I didn’t know what else to call him) kicked a tire again and flipped us off. Then he went back to his crepe truck. I let out a sigh of relief.

We waited as the lunch crowd began to trickle out of the surrounding buildings. I saw people heading for us with delight. When they suddenly veered away, I wondered what was wrong.

“I’m going outside to see what’s happening,” I said after this had happened several times.

“Let me,” Ollie said. “I don’t like people messing with our business.”

I waited for a few seconds after he’d left the food truck. I finally followed him, imagining all kinds of things that could be going on.

What I didn’t imagine was that “Suzette” was standing in front of our food truck giving away free samples of
his
food and directing people to his crepe truck.

I heard Ollie growl when I came up behind him. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“Get me some biscuits, Zoe,” he said. “Two can play at this game. I’ll bet I can play it better.”

I scurried to do what he asked. I stood beside him with a big, welcoming smile on my face, giving out little menus as he gave out biscuits. Delia watched from the window as she put apples into biscuit bowls.

“Suzette” looked our way a few times as people began to come toward our food truck. I had to give up handing out menus to serve our customers.

I was thrilled when people began ordering both sweet and savory biscuit bowls. A few sat on the café chairs and smiled when they bit into the treats. Some even ordered a savory biscuit bowl and then came back for a sweet one.

There was actually money in the cash register. The crowds I’d remembered from yesterday were lining up at our window. It was almost too much to keep up with. That wasn’t a good thing since poor service has been the death of many a restaurant. I called to Ollie so he could give me a hand. It was all Delia could do to keep up with filling the biscuit bowls.

For the next hour, we were so busy, I didn’t have time to look up from the rapidly disappearing biscuit bowls. My fears about not having enough food were almost right. We were down to the last pan of biscuits when the crowd vanished as fast as it had appeared.

It was almost two
P.M.
“That was the lunch rush.” I took a deep breath.

Delia let out a sigh of relief. “How were you doing all that by yourself, Zoe?”

“I wasn’t. This was my first really busy day!”

Ollie grinned. “I think they liked us.”

“I think so.” I smiled back, elated. “You and Delia were my lucky charms. Well, your gumbo, too.”

“I told you, give them what they want, and you’ll be fine.”

“That, and being an aggressive marketer, and scaring away potential thieves,” Delia said.

I agreed. “Thanks for your help, Ollie.”

“Happy to be here for you, Zoe. You should take a breather. I’ll straighten up a little.”

I liked that idea, though I felt guilty once I was sitting outside on one of the café chairs. I was lucky to have Ollie and Delia. I hoped I’d made enough money to pay them both something by the end of the day.

“I heard you were down here.”

I looked up and shaded my eyes with my hand. “Tommy Lee! What do you mean you heard?”

He sat across from me. “I heard it on the radio. I came over to see how you were doing.”

I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what he was saying. “You mean the radio station was telling people where to find us?”

“They were telling people you and that other food truck were giving out free samples.” He frowned. “Zoe, we need to talk.”

I was so excited that they’d called my name on the radio. The possibilities from that were amazing. I could give out free samples every day. Biscuits were cheap and easy to make. Of course, I could try other things. A biscuit bowl could be lightly filled with a pie filling and cut into four pieces. That could work, too.

“Zoe?” Tommy Lee was snapping his fingers in front of my face.

“Oh. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked you to marry me. You didn’t answer. I think we should at least get engaged. We don’t have to get married right away. Weddings take time to plan anyway. I know you want a big, showy wedding where your mother and father can invite all of their friends. My parents do, too.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy Lee.” I put my hand on his. “I can’t get married, or engaged, right now. I don’t think you really want to marry me anyway. You just feel obligated.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve been together for a long time.”

“Most of that time wasn’t me. It was the girl my parents wanted me to be. You, too, I guess. I’m not that girl anymore. I don’t think you want to marry a woman who owns a ratty old diner and drives a food truck.”

“Zoe, that’s
now
.” He smiled very tenderly. I could feel his old pull on my heartstrings. “When we get married, you won’t need a career or a business. I make enough money that my wife doesn’t have to do anything—except attend charitable functions and support me in my work.”

“I think you have the wrong person.” I wanted to say he should ask Betty to marry him, but that sounded like sour grapes, and I really didn’t feel that way. “I wish you all the best, Tommy Lee. I don’t think we’re right for each other anymore.”

The shock written on his handsome face was terrible. I felt so bad for him, despite everything. I even started to take it back so his feelings wouldn’t be hurt.

“Customers coming,” Ollie called out.

“Gotta go.” I smiled at Tommy Lee. “You’ll see this is for the best. I wouldn’t be good at what you expect from a wife. Come over to the window and I’ll give you a free biscuit bowl.”

He sat at the café table for a long time, staring at me. Ollie and I waited on a few customers who’d heard good things about our food from their coworkers in the building.

Finally, when everyone was gone, Tommy Lee came up to the window. He stared at Ollie instead of me.

“Is it
him
?” He pointed to Ollie. “Are you in love with this man?”

I was surprised and embarrassed. “No. I’m not in love with Ollie. He’s working with me.”

Tommy Lee made an ugly snorting noise. “Is that what you want from a man, Zoe? Somebody who will put on an apron and work in this sweatshop with you?”

Ollie had that mean look on his face that had scared off our early morning thief.

“You’re embarrassing both of us,” I whispered. “You should go now.”

“Yeah? Who’s gonna make me go?
Him?
” He really noticed Ollie for the first time. That closer study made him gulp hard and step back from the window.

Ollie lunged at him. It was fake, of course

Tommy Lee almost tripped over a chair as he tried to get away. I felt bad for him again.

I put my hand on Ollie’s big arm. “No need to threaten him. He’s only upset and disappointed.”

He nodded and walked to the front of the food truck to sit down by Crème Brûlée.

“Go home, Tommy Lee. Or go back to the office. This isn’t going to work for us. I’m sorry, but getting angry won’t change anything.”

“That’s fine.” Tommy Lee spared a glance at the front of the Biscuit Bowl where Ollie was sitting. “If that’s what you really want, Zoe. That’s fine.”

I don’t know if it was Ollie’s warning face or my persistent entreaty that our relationship was over. Tommy Lee finally turned and left without a backward glance.

What did I do?

I had to wipe away a few tears even though I knew it was for the best. The change in my life wasn’t our only problem. We’d been together for a long time. Suddenly, I was alone.

Delia patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll find someone else. There’s no point in being with someone when it’s wrong.”

“You okay back there?” Ollie asked.

I sniffed, thanked Delia, and wiped my eyes. “I’m fine. thanks. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“I’ve heard worse. How many biscuit bowls we got left?”

It turned out to be plenty. A few people stopped on their way home, leaving police headquarters. Nothing like the lunch crowd. We still had six biscuit bowls left as we got ready to pull out of our lucrative parking space.

I saw Detective Latoure for the first time that day. I told Ollie I’d be right back and jumped out of the food truck to talk to her. I thought I might be able to butter her up with a strawberry-filled biscuit bowl.

“What’s this?” Detective Latoure asked as I hailed her.

“I brought you a biscuit bowl,” I told her cheerfully. “On the house. Try it.”

She studied the biscuit bowl but didn’t seem inclined to accept my offer. Maybe she was afraid to eat my food. It hadn’t been that long before that she’d thought I’d killed Taco Terry.

“I’m sorry, Zoe. I’m not a big fan of biscuits. Too many carbs. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad we were near police headquarters today. A man tried to rob us.”

Detective Latoure frowned

“There are several other guns and some knives over there in the bushes, too,” I told her. “Do you want me to get them out for you? You’re wearing that nice suit. Green is a good color on you. I don’t want you to get dirty.”

Her mouth kind of dropped open. It took a minute or two for her to come around. “I’ll have an officer pick these up. You shouldn’t handle them. Thank you for letting me know about this.”

“You have to try my biscuit bowl.”

Naturally she felt obligated at this point to try a bite. She took a big crunch out of the warm, strawberry-filled biscuit bowl, and rolled it around in her mouth a little, finally smiling.

“This is good. I really like it. It doesn’t taste like most biscuits, not doughy at all.” She grinned, finishing it. “I’ll have to swim an extra few laps to get rid of it. I’ve always had to watch my weight. You know how that is!”

I did indeed, and surprisingly, we had pleasant, girl-talk about everything from drinking vinegar to eating grapefruit to lose weight. Patti was very warm and human when she wasn’t so busy being a detective.

She bought two savory biscuits to go for her and her husband’s dinner.

Word of mouth was everything. I was happy to oblige. “Thanks, Detective Latoure.”

“Patti.”

“Thanks, Patti.”

“I’m really sorry about your near robbery,” she said. “Do you have a description? You never can tell when other people have had the same experience, but not gotten away so lucky.”

“Of course.” I told her what the man had looked like, and she wrote it down. “I’m happy to help out. Did you hear about that man at my diner last night?”

She was still smiling and licking what was left of the strawberry filling from her finger tips. “I heard. Miguel came by and let us know, not to mention the police report from the responding officers. I had them run an extra patrol through there at night for this week.”

“Thanks. It probably didn’t have anything to do with the murder, but it was really frightening. There was something else about that attempted robbery today, too. The man asked for something of Terry’s. He didn’t say what.”

“Something of Terry’s? You mean the man who was killed?”

“I think so.”

Her pager went off. Patti apologized. “We’ll have to talk about this later, Zoe. I have to go.”

I watched her walk quickly up the stairs, admiring her spring green suit again.

Ollie had vanished while I’d been talking to Patti. “Did you see where he went?” I asked Delia.

“He’s out there somewhere.”

I went to look for him and found him behind the food truck.

“Is she gone?” he asked.

“Yes. Is something wrong?”

“I don’t like cops.” He shuddered. “They don’t like me, either.”

It was funny seeing a big man like Ollie crouched down behind the food truck, worried about
anyone
seeing him. I turned away to keep from smiling. I wondered what had made him so afraid of the police.

“I think we should go,” I said. “Let’s get everything packed up.”

Ollie and Delia helped me pack quickly. Ollie glanced around nervously after that. It took only a few minutes before we were ready to go.

I was pleased to give Delia and Ollie each fifty dollars when we were in the food truck. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“You don’t need to give me this much.” Ollie put thirty dollars back into my hand. “It’s not like I got expenses or anything. This is enough to buy a few smokes without Marty asking me to move out and get my own place.”