Nursing a Grudge is Murder (A Maternal Instincts Mystery) (14 page)

I took the keys. “I’ll follow you to the hospital.” I gave him my best charming smile, “Maybe they’ll outpatient you.”

He didn’t answer me, only made a face and turned away. I glanced at one of the paramedics, who subtly shook his head. Most likely, Galigani would be admitted to the hospital.

I jogged over to his car and noted the scratched-up vintage Harley-Davidson parked next to it. I looked around for V.D. but he wasn’t in the parking lot. I spotted him across the street in front of
Philosophie
, Miles’s restaurant. He was locked in an embrace with someone…someone who had immovable blonde hair.

Mrs. Miles!

The one and only who had wiped out his Harley yesterday?

She pulled away from him and dried her eyes. It looked as if she’d been crying on his shoulder, and I didn’t think she was all broken up about banging into his bike…

Was she distraught over her husband being hauled in for questioning?

Or was their relationship something else entirely?

How could that be, though? She definitely struck me as someone who’d only be interested in a man if they had dollar signs floating in their eyes, and V.D. was basically a starving playwright. All right, he could be making some money on the side with his P.I. business, but nothing compared to Miles. No. if Mrs. Miles was interested in him, she had an ulterior motive…

Could it be she needed his help in covering up a crime?

Mrs. Miles said something to V.D. to which he nodded. Suddenly, he turned and started walking in my direction. I jammed Galigani’s key into the car door and twisted. The keys stuck in the side position and wouldn’t budge. I tried to pull it out, but the key
was slick from the rain, my fingers sliding off of it. I tried again, this time jerking so hard, the key actually broke off in my hand.

Shoot!

I stared at the broken key. This had never happen to me before. I cursed Galigani for having such a crappy car and an even crappier key. Then I immediately felt repentant. I’d only broken a key, he’d broken an ankle.

I could feel V.D. rapidly approaching and I considered my options. Could I head in the opposite direction and avoid him altogether?

“Hi, Kate!” he said, his voice full of cheer.

I groaned inwardly, then turned to face him. “Chummy with Mrs. Miles, huh?”

He frowned and glanced over his shoulder. “Oh. You saw us talking.”

I smiled. “That’s what you call
talking
?”

He laughed and cocked an eyebrow at me. “What do you call it?”

I waved an impatient hand at him. “Never mind.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket, hoping that he’d get on his bike and leave.

He looked around. “Where’s Galigani?”

I scrolled randomly on my phone. “Ummm. He’s out of commission, right now.”

V.D.’s eyebrows knit together, then a look of alarm crossed his face. “I saw the ambulance…don’t tell me—”

“I won’t, then.”

“What?”

“I won’t tell you anything. Look, I’d love to chat, but I need to make a call. See ya.” I wiggled my fingers at him.

He leaned on Galigani’s car. “Go ahead. Make your call. I can wait.”

Seagulls chirped in the distance and the sound of the waves crashing against the Sutro Bath retaining wall made me want to lure V.D. to the edge of the parking lot and push him into the ocean.

I wiped the drizzle off my phone and dialed home. Jim’s voicemail clicked on. “Honey,” I said into the phone. “Galigani broke his ankle and I’m stuck over by Land’s End. Call me when you get this message. I need a ride.”

V.D. quirked his head. “I can give you a ride. Where do you need to go?”

I eyed the Harley-Davidson next to Galigani’s car. “On that?”

“Yeah,” V.D. moved toward the storage box on the rear of the bike. “I have an extra helmet.”

“No.”

He smiled. “Come on. I owe you a ride, and I don’t like the feeling of owing anybody anything.”

“Good. I’m glad you don’t like it and you can continue to feel it, because I’m not getting on that thing with you. “

He licked his lips as if preparing himself for a challenge. “Afraid to get wet.”

I held my arms out, indicating my shirt already drenched from the rain and subsequent drizzle. “I’m already wet.”

“Don’t be scared. I’m a good driver.”

“I’m not scared. I’d rather take the bus.”

Actually there was nothing I hated worse than the bus. But at this point, I wanted Mr. Arrogant Pants away from me.

I hiked around Galigani’s car and headed toward the bus stop that was across the street in front of
Philosophie
. San Francisco was absolutely notorious for awful public transportation. I once watched a Muni bus driver pop over the curb of a crowded sidewalk and run over ten parking meters before correcting back onto the street. I figured since the bus practically never came, I could sit it out and wait for Mr. Harley-Davidson to whiz off.

I took a seat in the rain shelter and waited for him to leave. To my astonishment, a Muni bus turned the corner of the Great Highway and came lumbering toward me.

Darn it.

I couldn’t really see V.D.’s face, but I imagined a smug smile. He put the extra helmet back in the storage box, then put his own on his head. He climbed on to his bike and revved it up.

The bus was upon me. I suddenly realized that I didn’t even have cash for the bus. Not that I was going to climb aboard anyway, but for crying out loud, how unprepared could I be?

The bus doors opened and the driver looked at me expectantly. I waved him off and the doors closed. Before the bus pulled away, I was struck by brilliance. I stood and rounded the bus shelter and popped into
Philosophie
, all while the bus blocked V.D.’s view.

When the bus pulled away from the curb, I was safely tucked inside the restaurant. For all intents and purposes, V.D. thought I was on the bus.

I crouched behind a booth and turned my phone off, lest he be tracking my GPS signal or whatever the heck my phone was putting out. I watched as he mounted his bike and tore off after the bus.

Good. Now he was gone and I only had to figure out how to get to the hospital without a car,
and
without a serviceable phone.

I stood and glanced around the restaurant. It was totally deserted. Where was Mrs. Miles?

“Hello?” I called out.

The hostess with the frizzy red hair appeared. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. We’re closed.” She looked over my shoulder, checking to see if she had an unruly mob on her hands.

“Actually, I’m not here to eat. I…um…my friend had an accident while hiking and I—”

“Oh!” Her delicate brow wrinkled and a look of genuine concern crossed her face.

“Can I use your phone?” I asked.

“Yes, of course. Follow me.”

She walked to the back of the restaurant. We passed the kitchen where the cook was bent over, checking something in the oven, and all that was visible was a chef’s hat that seemed to float above one of the counters.

The hostess unlocked the office door and ushered me inside. She pointed to a black touchtone phone that sat atop a meticulously clean mahogany desk.

“Thank you,” I said.

She nodded and closed the door behind her.

How odd that she’d leave me alone in the office, but hey, I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I wiggled the computer mouse and a financial software program came to life.

I grumbled as I raked my eyes across the awful spreadsheet. It could have been in German or Arabic for all that I could make out of it. It looked like what you might expect from a restaurant, vendors like Antonio’s Bakery, The Farmer’s Market and Fresh Fish Daily. Certainly there was nothing that looked suspicious, from what I could tell.

Grabbing the black phone, I dialed Mom. Thankfully she picked up on the first ring.

“Mom, don’t panic. Everything is fine. Galigani is alive.”

“What?” Mom said, concern and panic suddenly in her voice. “Kate! What’s going on?”

“Calm down. I said, don’t panic.”

“How can I not panic when you start a conversation with ‘Don’t panic’?” she shrieked. “What’s happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s Galigani. We went hiking—”

“Oh dear God! Is it his heart?”

“He fell and broke his ankle. They took him up the hill to UC.”

“My poor Albert. Poor, poor, dear Albert—”

“Mom—”

“I’m on my way,” she hung up.

“Wait!” a loud dial tone assaulted my ear. Shoot! I hadn’t even gotten to the “I need a ride” part.

I started to dial her number again, when the hostess peeked in the doorway. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m trying to get a ride to the hospital, but she…” I dialed Mom’s number again, fearful that if I stopped to explain, Mom would be gone. I listened to the phone ring. “She’s…gone.”

Of course, Mom had a cell phone like everyone else now, but that number was programmed into my phone and I’d have to turn on my phone to look it up, not to mention the probability of Mom actually remembering to take her phone with her was slim to none.

The hostess frowned. “You need a ride to UC?”

I nodded.

“I’m off in a few minutes. I can take you,” she smiled politely.

“Really? Oh, I…I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“It’s not an imposition, really. I live up the hill anyway.”

I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d have a ride and someone I could grill about Mr. and Mrs. Miles.

Perfect!

“I would so appreciate it,” I said, sincerely.

She nodded. “Let me tell the chef I’m taking off.”

She disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving me alone in the office. If there was only some information I could get here, then I wouldn’t feel like such a loser. Something to help me crack the case, something V.D. wouldn’t be privy to.

On impulse, I silently eased open the top drawer of the desk. Inside was a shiny silver and black Berretta handgun.

Chapter Fifteen

Crap!

I jolted upright and slammed the drawer closed as though it had bit me.

Whose gun was that? I couldn’t possibly accept a ride from the woman I hardly knew! No matter what information I could glean from her, putting myself at risk was not an option.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned it on. At this point, it didn’t matter if V.D. found me here – so what? I called Mom’s cell phone.

The hostesses reappeared in the doorway. “Oh,” she frowned. “You have a phone.”

“I…it’s not working all that great,” I muttered as way of explanation, sometime the reception…”

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Yeah. It’s hit and miss around here. Ready to go?”

I held up a finger as I left a message for Mom, knowing full well it was in vain. “Okay, I’m in front of
Philosophie
, I’ll be looking for you.” I hung up and turned to the hostess. “I got in touch with her. She’ll be here in a minute, but thank you so much for the offer of the ride.”

“Oh.” A hurt look flashed across her face, then she shrugged it off. “Yeah, sure.”

I followed her back to the restaurant, and when we crossed in front of the kitchen she yelled out, “See you tomorrow, Ramon.”

I turned toward the kitchen and came face to face with my friend, Ramon.

We both stared at each other in shock. I knew Ramon was going to work for Miles, but I’d understood it would be at a different restaurant.

“What are you doing here, Kate?” he asked.

“I…um…Galigani got hurt hiking the Land’s End trail. He’s at UC and I needed a ride…” it was all getting complicated fast and I didn’t want to tell him in front of the hostess that’d I’d lied about having a ride. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be the chef of a new restaurant, Empanada King, or something like that?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but Miles was…” he glanced at the hostesses, who narrowed her eyes at him. “I was getting familiar with the kitchen here,” Ramon clarified. “Anyway, I’m done now. I can take you to UC.”

“That’d be great,” I said.

The hostess leveled a gaze at me. “I thought you said you already had a ride?”

I waved my hand around dismissing the idea, hoping she would be detoured. “Ah, it’s a long story.”

Her face was hard as she stared at me, then Ramon. Suddenly I got it. She was interested in Ramon and not at all hot on the idea of him giving me – some mystery woman who just appeared on the scene and friendly with him – a ride.

I quickly mumbled something about my husband not answering his phone. Her face brightened.

Ramon took off the chef’s hat and then his apron. “No problem,” he said, moving toward a white laundry bin and balling his apron in his hands.

The hostess grabbed some soiled towels that were on the counter and pitched them into the laundry bin at the same moment as Ramon tossed his apron in. She timed it perfectly so that their hands touched.

He smiled at her, but in a friendly way, not catching at all that she was into him.

“Let’s go,” he said motioning me into the dining area and towards the front door. We exited the restaurant, then the hostess locked the doors behind us.

“See you tomorrow, Jess,” Ramon said.

“Yeah, sure, Ramon.” She smiled coquettishly at him. “
Hasta mañana
.” She slung an oversize handbag over her shoulder and took off down the hill, toward an auxiliary parking lot nearby.

Ramon and I hiked across the street and back into the parking lot where Galigani’s car was.

“She likes you,” I said.

He frowned. “Who?”

“The hostess. Jess,” I said.

Ramon stopped walking and stared at me. “Really? Why do you say that?”

I laughed. “Call it women’s intuition. I could tell by the way she was looking at you.”

He pressed his key fob and unlocked the car door. We climbed in and strapped our seatbelts.

“Where’s Mrs. Miles, by the way? I saw her a few minutes ago outside. She was talking to their private investigator, but then she disappeared.”

Ramon twisted in his seat to look at me. “They have a P.I.?”

“Yeah. The cops picked up Miles for questioning today,” I said.

“I know. That’s why I was at
Philosophie
instead of downtown. With all his troubles right now, the opening of Empanada King has been pushed out.” He shrugged. “I hope everything gets straightened out soon.”