Night of the Living Dandelion (6 page)

Hello-o-o. My hair was red. Cinnamon’s was neon orange. But now was not the time to, well, split hairs.

“You knew her for a week,” Marco said. “Get over it.”

“Two and a half weeks,” Rafe corrected.

I gave Marco a frown to let him know he wasn’t helping. “Why don’t you get a new job, Rafe?”

“No one’s hiring right now,” he said, taking another fry. “I could’ve worked
here
as a bartender, but no. Someone
else
got
that
job.” He nodded in Vlad’s direction.

“You went to Hooters because you didn’t want to work for me,” Marco reminded him.

“I didn’t want to be your janitor,” Rafe said. “You never offered me the bartender’s position.”

“Because you have to learn the ropes first,” Marco replied.

“Did
that
guy learn the ropes first?” Rafe nodded again at Vlad and reached for a piece of pork that had fallen out of my bun.

“
That
guy has a master’s degree,” Marco said.

“In bartending?” Rafe asked.

Four to three. Rafe was ahead by one. I smacked his hand when he reached for another fry. There was a limit to my charity.

“I need someone smart and reliable to run the place if I have to go overseas,” Marco explained. “Vlad ran a lab at a Chicago hospital for five years. He has managerial skills.”

“Are you saying I’m not smart enough to handle things here?” Rafe asked.

“You’re not experienced enough.”

“Then train me. Give me the experience.”

Marco glanced at me for support, but I was staying out of that argument.

“Wouldn’t you rather leave the bar in a family member’s hands,” Rafe posed, “instead of in the hands of someone half of your customers dislike?”

Score another point for the younger brother.

Gert stopped by the table to say to Rafe, “I suppose you’re gonna want something to eat, too.”

“Yes, he would,” I said.

“What can I get you, handsome?” Gert asked him, ruffling his dark, wavy hair.

“I could really go for a big, juicy cheeseburger,” Rafe said, gazing at her with his liquid brown eyes, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

She wrote down his order, then turned to Marco. “Boss, you need to bring this kid back. We miss him here.” She winked at Rafe and left.

Marco glanced at me and I shrugged. He put his hands on the table, leaned in, and gave his brother a searching stare. “Do you really want to work for me?”

“Yes!” Rafe answered, then added, “As a bartender.”

Marco sat back. “Show up tomorrow morning at eleven.”

Rafe’s eyes got wide. “Are you serious? That early?”

Before Marco could lay into him, he said, “Just kidding. I’ll be here at eleven sharp.”

Rafe extended his fist to give Marco a knuckle bump. “Thanks, bro. I’m going to go get myself a beer. Either of you want anything?”

After Rafe sauntered off, I said to Marco, “It was very nice of you to take him back.”

“He won’t last,” Marco said. “He hates taking orders from me.”

“Then you won’t give him a shot at being your manager, in case Vlad doesn’t work out?”

“Sunshine, mark my words. Rafe will quit before he puts in a full week.”

 

Marco and I ate breakfast in front of the television the next morning, a habit I’d developed in college, being a morning talk show junkie. It wasn’t Marco’s usual routine, but since he was staying with me for his remaining few weeks, he was adjusting. As long as I kept the volume down, it didn’t bother Nikki, who worked the afternoon shift as an X-ray tech at County Hospital and liked to sleep until nine o’clock. But I’d forgotten that Nikki’s white cat, Simon, loved oatmeal, and since that was also Marco’s breakfast of choice, Simon assumed they would share.

“We could eat at the kitchen table,” Marco said, as I shooed Simon away for the second time. He hissed at me. Being a feline, Simon didn’t take kindly to being told no.

“I can’t see the television from there.”

“Do you
need
to see the television?”

“No, I
want
to see it. Simon, get down!” I put aside my toast with peanut butter and sliced bananas, and scooped him onto my lap. “Okay, fat boy, you’ve been warned. It’s off to the bedroom for you. You’ll just have to amuse yourself by threatening squirrels from the window.”

At that moment the TV anchor said, “In local news, the green Hyundai belonging to Lori Willis, a New Chapel woman missing since Wednesday, was discovered in the parking lot behind the Casa Royale Apartments early this morning. There has been no sign of the missing woman, but police are hopeful that her car will hold clues to her whereabouts.”

Marco muttered, “Damn.”

“What?”

“Casa Royale is where Vlad lives.”

“Maybe the woman lives there, too.”

“Whether she does or doesn’t, it’ll still start a whole new round of rumors.” Marco took his bowl to the kitchen, so I released Simon, who was wiggling in my arms.

The little furball gave himself a shake, licked his paw, then sashayed after Marco, his long white tail curled into a question mark. “Don’t feed Simon,” I said. “He’s had his tuna.”

“Sorry, buddy,” I heard Marco say. “The queen has spoken.”

Marco returned with the coffeepot to refill our cups.

“What time did you get in last night?” I asked. I’d crashed before midnight and only vaguely remembered Marco coming in.

“Twelve thirty,” he said. “The hecklers were gone, and Rafe was there, along with Bob, Kyle, and some of the other regulars, so I figured Vlad would be okay.”

Marco’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, snapped it open, and answered with a crisp “Salvare,” as he walked into the kitchen. He talked quietly for a few minutes, and when he came back to the living room, he looked grim.

“That was Reilly giving me a heads-up,” he said as he sat beside me. “The cops found the Willis woman’s purse in her car with her phone and wallet still inside, money and credit cards intact, so it doesn’t appear to have been a robbery.”

“An abduction, then?”

“Looks that way.”

“Why are you frowning?”

“Because inside the purse was a piece of Parkview Hospital stationery with Vlad’s name and number on it. He’s now officially a person of interest.”

“T
he cops have been trying to reach Vlad since they discovered the car, but he’s not answering his door or his phone,” Marco told me, scrolling through his cell phone’s address book. He punched in a number, then held the phone to his ear and said to me, “Reilly asked me to make sure Vlad gets in touch with them.”

“Poor Vlad. Once he gets in the cops’ crosshairs, he’s doomed.”

Marco listened for several seconds, then said, “Vlad, it’s me. Call as soon as you get this.” He closed his phone and tucked it away. “Reilly should be able to persuade calmer heads to prevail until the evidence can clear Vlad. The forensic team is still processing the car, and the cops are going door-to-door in the apartment building and to all the houses in the neighborhood to see if anyone witnessed anything. Something will turn up. I’m sure of it.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure Vlad isn’t involved? I mean, other than the time you served with him in the army, how much do you really know about him?”

“Sunshine, believe me, there is nothing in Vlad’s background that would make me suspect him of stealing a pack of gum, let alone abducting someone. It’s just a matter of time until he’s cleared.”

“Is there anything we can do to speed it up?” I asked.

“Pray that they find the woman soon.” Marco put his arm around me and drew me against him. “And here’s another thing you can do.” He tugged on one end of the velour belt that tied my robe and tugged until it was loose. “Tell me how much time we have before you have to leave for work.”

“I think there’s enough time for what you have in mind.”

That was all the encouragement Marco needed. He swept me up in his arms and carried me to my bedroom, closing the door before Simon could scurry in after us.

 

When Marco pulled up in front of Bloomers at two minutes before eight that morning, Lottie hadn’t arrived, so Grace held the door open and then helped me switch to the wheelchair. She had already started a pot of her special blend of coffee and had set out cups and saucers, and her homemade scones, so I headed straight for the parlor.

“You’ve a lovely blush in your cheeks this morning,” Grace said, bringing the coffeepot to the table. “This brisk spring weather must agree with you.”

Brisk weather was one explanation.

The bell over the door jingled as Lottie let herself in. “Mmm! I smell blueberry scones,” she called. She came into the parlor rubbing her hands together. “Let me at ’em. I could eat a horse this morning.”

“A deplorable Yank saying,” Grace said. “No one could eat an entire horse. The thought of it is revolting.”

“I could say the same about kidney pie,” Lottie said, pulling out a chair at the front table.

“Pork rinds,” Grace said with a shudder.

“Black pudding,” Lottie said.

“Speaking of black,” said Grace, who was the mistress of segues, “those houseplants you ordered for Vlad will be delivered Monday, Abby. There was a message waiting this morning. Apparently the supplier was having some difficulty getting the voodoo lily.”

“Speaking of Vlad,” Lottie said, who loved topping Grace’s segues, “have you heard the latest on the missing woman? The news on the radio this morning reported that her car and belongings were found behind the apartment building where Vlad lives.”

At least we were off the subject of disgusting food. “How did you know Vlad lived there?”

“It was on the radio,” Lottie said, selecting a scone. “You should’ve heard what people were calling in to say about Vlad. As I see it, if Vlad did abduct that woman, he’d have to be pretty dumb to leave her car behind his building.”

“Or exceedingly clever,” Grace said. “He could be trying to make himself look so guilty that no one could possibly believe he was the abductor.”

“I hope Marco’s business isn’t affected by all the hoopla,” Lottie said.

“I doubt it’ll matter,” I said. “Marco is one hundred percent behind Vlad.”

“Let’s hope he isn’t disappointed,” Grace said, then cleared her throat and lifted her chin, a sign that she was about to share a quote. “As George Washington said, ‘Be courteous to all, but intimate with few; and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence.’ ”

We clapped. She acknowledged our applause with a regal nod, then went to refill the coffeepot at the back of the parlor. Lottie whispered, “She just got done putting down Yank sayings. Then she turns around and quotes Washington.”

“If you want to point that out to her, go ahead,” I whispered back.

“Heck, no. She’d probably chop down my cherry trees.”

The phone rang and Lottie went to answer it as Grace returned to freshen our cups. “What is your impression of Vlad, Abby?” she asked.

I popped a bite of scone into my mouth and thought about her question as I chewed. “He’s polite. Beguiling. Handsome. Different . . .” I ran out of adjectives.

“Different,” Grace mused. “Do you mean he’s odd?”

I blinked at Grace, not wanting to cast aspersions on Marco’s buddy. “Can’t we leave it at different?”

Lottie came into the parlor with the handset. “Sweetie, it’s your mom.”

Speaking of different. I glanced at my watch as I wheeled out of the parlor to take the call. It was eight thirty. What was Mom doing phoning me now? “Mom? Aren’t you teaching today? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine, honey. The class is having an art lesson now. Jillian texted me earlier to remind me to remind you about our family dinner tonight. She wants to be sure you and Marco will be there.”

I’d get Jillian for siccing Mom on me. “We’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

But as soon as I hung up, a thought struck me. Given Vlad’s situation, would Marco feel confident enough to leave the bar for the whole evening? I couldn’t imagine making an engagement announcement without him, and I certainly didn’t want to be alone when I told the family that Marco might be going overseas. So as soon as I hung up, I wheeled into the workroom to phone Marco, only to get his voice mail.

I didn’t leave a message. It could wait until I saw him at lunch.

 

We opened Bloomers at nine o’clock to a handful of customers, most of whom headed for the coffee-and-tea parlor to gobble down Grace’s scones. With Grace covering the parlor and Lottie manning the retail side, I stayed in my cocoon of peace and handled orders that had come in overnight.

My blissful cocoon burst shortly after eleven o’clock, when Grace came in to alert me that she’d spotted my cousin Jillian through the bay window, heading for Bloomers.