Dead in the Water (Kate Ryan Mysteries Book 10) (8 page)

“Other than what we’ve been told by Matt and Phil, nothing. What’s your idea?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. It’s just this whole thing is odd. So I did a little background check on Phil and Chad.” Costello offered the manila folder to me. “Have a look.”

I glanced at the pages. Nothing jumped out at me until I got to his education. “Holy crap. This guy was smart.”

“To put it mildly,” Hannah said. “I read the file, as well.”

“MIT at sixteen?” I looked up, knowing my jaw was hanging on the desk. “Stanford? Then the navy? Holy crap,” I said again.

“All on scholarships.” Costello walked over to Hannah’s desk and sat on the edge of it. “And that got me to thinkin’. Why would someone who’s practically a genius, and with all that education and military experience, own an obscure storefront company with a small warehouse? That makes little money. Take a look at the company information, Ryan. Page three.”

 
I quickly found the page, feeling my heart racing as I knew we were on to something. “They don’t make much at all, but they probably don’t have much overhead. Lex Industries.” I looked up. “Why does that sound familiar?”

Hannah beamed with pride. “I’ll tell you why. This is what Matt said to us.” She put on her reading glasses, held up her beloved notes and started, “Oh, I was just thinking how Jerry used to call Chad a young Lex Luthor. He was always trying to invent some new gadget with an odd twist to it.”

I remembered what Matt had said earlier. I looked back at the information Costello had compiled. “Maybe that’s just a quirky thing to name the company that. Lex Luthor, Lex Industries.”

“You want to know what my guts are telling me?” Costello said.

“Definitely,” I said, watching her.

“I think Chad was tinkering with something and got in over his head. And whoever he was involved with killed him.”

“The question, of course, is why.”

Costello agreed. “I think we need to talk to Phil again. There has to be something he’s missing or…”

“Not telling us or the police,” I said slowly.

“Should we tell Mike this?” Hannah asked.

“Tell him what? It’s all speculation until we have something, if anything, concrete.” I sat back and rocked in my squeaky chair. “But I think you’re right, Costello. We need to talk to Phil again. In the police report, it said he had an alibi. He was with a client.”

“Yes, and the client corroborated that. Phil was there at the time of the Chad’s murder.”

“Which means he didn’t do it,” Hannah said.

“But it doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved somehow,” I said.

“Do you think he was?” Hannah looked amazed. “He seems so earnest.”

“Maybe he is. He could know something and not know he knows.”

“Hmm. An innocent dupe?” Hannah offered.

“Possibly.” I looked at Costello. “Why don’t we ask him if he can meet us for dinner at Matt’s tonight?”

“Grand. I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Costello said.

We both looked at Hannah, who was examining her nails. As if she knew, she slowly looked up. “What? Oh, you want me to call him?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I said.

“I’m your girl Friday. Of course not.” Hannah picked up the candlestick phone. “But we’ll need to talk about a raise in the near future. I can’t work under these stressful conditions. Maureen, you’re sitting on my copy of
Vogue
. Shoo…”

What a way to run a business, I thought as they exchanged playful banter when Costello jumped off Hannah’s desk after being swatted in the ass by Hannah.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter 8

I felt anxious for the rest of the afternoon. I had a feeling we were getting someplace, but I wasn’t quite sure where. I tried to keep my mind on Chad Henson’s murder, but it constantly drifted back to our weekend cruise. Now the anxious feeling turned to…I needed to call it something other than nausea because while I did get sick to my stomach when I thought of proposing to Maggie, it was a good type of nausea—if there was such a thing.

In the back of my mind, Costello’s question nagged me. What if Maggie did say no? What if I was the only one thinking of marriage? What if I’ve waited too long, and Maggie…

“What in the world are you doing?”

I looked up when I heard Hannah’s voice. She had the oddest look. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” I said. “Nothing. Just…”

“Why don’t you go home? We’ve done all we can. I’ll close up here. I can tell you’re ansty about all this talk of marriage.” Hannah pulled me up and handed me my keys. “Why don’t you go for a nice walk? It’s a beautiful afternoon. Sunny, warm. Take a stroll down your beloved Devon Avenue. Stop and see some of your old cronies and talk a little mayhem. Then go home to Margaret.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I think I will.” I kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now shoo…”

I stuck my keys in my jeans pocket and took a deep breath of good old Chicago air and started walking. I loved the smell of the city. Even the exhaust. It mingled well with the street vendor and his hot dogs and fresh pretzels. And speaking of which…I walked up to Mr. Totino’s Vienna Hot Dog stand. I loved his red, white, and green umbrella.

“Kate, how are you? I see you all the time, you never stop much. What do you like today?”

“Hey, Mr. Totino.” Now my mouth was watering. “Just a dog and kraut. Little mustard.”

“Sure.”

The steam rose when he opened the metal top, and I took a whiff of pure heaven—steaming hot dogs. I’d been to many cities around this country and in some other countries, and they all tried to make the “Chicago dog,” but it just didn’t work. Maybe it was the water in this city, I don’t know, but no one made a great hot dog like Chicago. And while we’re at it, why doesn’t anyone outside of Chicago know what an Italian beef is? Or giardiniera, for that matter. That spicy concoction on a juicy beef is almost as good as a hot dog.

“Here ya go.”

I licked my lips as I gently took the delectable dog from him. I fished out a few bucks and handed it to him. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks. So what makes you stop here today?” he asked. “Sit?” He offered the park bench next to his wagon. “I have time. Not too busy this time of day. Good thing you don’t come around lunchtime.”

I sat and took a healthy bite of the soft steamy bun. The sauerkraut was just tangy enough. “Heaven,” I said with a mouthful.

Mr. Totino puffed out his chest. “Of course. I have best hot dogs in Chicago. Now tell me.” He sat next to me and patted my knee.

“I just needed to take a walk.”

“Got a lot on your mind? How is PI business?”

“It’s fine,” I said absently and took another bite.

“Something is bothering you,” he said softly and sat back. “How is your lady friend?”

I glanced at him and chuckled. “Maggie is fine, too. We’re doing well.”

“That is good,” he said. “She still volunteers at the hospital?”

“Yes. A few times a week.”

“She should open her own office. She’s a good doctor. Yes?”

“Sure she is.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I am?” I self-consciously took another bite and finished the dog.

“Yes. It’s because you are happy. You have your PI business again, you have a girlfriend. Is all good in your life.”

He was right. It was all good in my life.

“Mr. Totino, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I’m…I’m thinking of asking Maggie to marry me.” I waited for his reaction.

He struck a thoughtful pose and nodded slowly. “I know nothing of such things, Kate. Can you do that now?”

I laughed and tossed my napkin in the trash. “Yes, we can. Not everywhere, but in Illinois now.”

“Then why would you not?” he asked softly. “Remember, I do not know of things like this. But you are a good person.” He sat back and watched the throng of late afternoon crowds shuffling by and standing on the corner waiting for the bus. “I see much from here. Good people, some not too good. Everybody has something going on in their lives. And I say, if you are good person and you love good, then who cares who you love?”

“Thanks, Mr. Totino.”

“I am very liberal man for someone who comes here from Italy forty years ago with a wife and five babies. Now another hot dog?”

I stood and shook his hand. “Nah, thanks. I’d better be moseying…Thanks, Mr. Totino.”

“You are welcome. Come by again, and bring Maggie.”

“I will. Thanks.”

I walked down Devon, feeling like a salmon swimming upstream. I loved the bustle of the city, but I will admit, I loved my cabin up north just as much, if not more. And that reminded me, I hadn’t been up there recently. Maybe that would be a good honeymoon? No, I thought. Hawaii? We had a great time there. I sighed happily at the idea of a honeymoon with Maggie, though I still had the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach at the other idea of asking her first.

I walked so far, I realized I was standing in front of Dave Halprin’s store. I laughed quietly as I squinted between the stenciling of Halprin Locksmith on his storefront window. He sat there peering over his glasses while he worked. His head shot up when I banged on the window.

For a moment, he seemed not to recognize me, then the goofy grin spread across his face as he beckoned me inside.

The little bell jingled as I walked in. “Hey, Dave.”

“Kate! What a surprise. I haven’t seen you in ages.” His eyes lit up then. “Need my expertise on a case?”

I laughed and leaned against the counter. “No, no. Just went for a walk.”

“And wound up here? You need a life, kiddo.”

“Still smells like smoldering metal around here.”

“Thanks. I think,” he said, watching me. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just went for a walk.”

“You said that. How ’bout a beer?”

“Why not? I just had a hot dog.”

Dave still watched me as he opened the little refrigerator behind the counter and produced two Budweisers.

“These give me gas,” I said, taking the beer.

“Shut up. You’re welcome. I don’t have Guinness. Too expensive. Now what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” he said, taking a drink from the bottle. He walked around the counter and locked the door, then turned the closed sign around. “Let’s go sit.”

“I just came in to say hey,” I said, not knowing I sounded so dour.

Dave ignored me and led me around the counter to his cramped office.

“You’re a slob.” I looked around the messy old wooden desk filled with papers and receipts and God knows what. “Jimmy Hoffa better not jump out.”

“Sit. My girl is on vacation till Monday.” He sat in the squeaky rocker. “So if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m gonna strangle you.”

I looked around the office and chuckled. “Remember that one case you helped me with?”

“I do. Man, that was ages ago. Almost ten years, I think. We both could’ve been arrested. I think the cops call it breaking and entering.” He laughed and took another drink.

“But I got the bad guy.”

“With my expertise. Still know how to pick a lock, grasshopper?”

“Yes, master.”

“That was fun. And remember the last time? At Halloween with that crazy woman? Whatever happened to her?”

“Bridget Donnelly was extradited back to Ireland. She’s in prison.”

“So why the trip down memory lane?”

“I don’t know. I just like to remember my life when I was younger and in better shape and…”

“And what—had a new girl on your arm every month? I can see that. I was very jealous of you back then. My wife was amazed. She loved to hear about your escapades.”

“And you just loved to tell her.”

“I did. Are you nuts? The wife and I had great sex after—”

“All right. I get it. Spare the details.”

Dave laughed and finished his beer. “Another one?”

“No, thanks.” I looked around his office while he got himself another beer.

“So…” He sat behind his desk once again; he put his feet up and rocked as he watched me. “So how’s your gal?” he asked quietly.

I pulled at the label on the beer bottle. “She’s wonderful.”

“Wonderful? Oh, man, Kate. You—” He sat forward then. “You’re in love.”

“Of course, I’m in love, you jackass. Geesh,” I said, taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Then why do you have the sourpuss?”

When I didn’t answer, he grinned. “Got the heebie-jeebies?”

I looked up then. “What?”

“Ya know. The jitters,” he said and shivered for effect. “Being in love can be very sickening.”

“Thank you for your expert commentary.”

“You’re welcome. Hey, I’ve been married for nearly sixteen years. I know a few things about a few things.”

“Enlighten me,” I said, sitting back.

“Well, I can tell you this. I know you well enough to know when you’re getting cold feet. How long have you been with Maggie?”

“I don’t know, a couple years. That’s not very long.”

“Long enough when you’re hooked. And you, Kate Ryan, are hooked. Just in case ya didn’t know.”

“Don’t be so smug. I know I’m in love with Maggie. So you can wipe that superior grin off your ugly Irish mug.” I sat forward then. “And, smartass, for your information, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Dave’s mouth dropped as did his feet off his desk. “No shit. Really?”

I realized I made it sound like a threat. I laughed in spite of myself. “Yeah, really.”

“Well, that’s great. Oh,” he said, nodding. “I get it now. You’re scared to death she’ll say no.”

I narrowed my eyes at my old friend. “Why did I come here?”

He laughed and took a drink. “Because you need reassuring.”

“Since when did you become so compassionate?”

“My wife made me read some book about women…menopause and all that women stuff.”

“Women stuff? Very compassionate. You might want to read it again, Dave.”

“Am I right, though?”

I sat back and let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, jackass. You’re right.”