Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Her brow furrows. “Gosh, I don’t remember. I have so many jobs this week, it’s kind of nuts.”
“Don’t you have records?” I ask.
“I do, but I’m pretty sure this was a cash transaction.” She stands and grabs a big box and brings it to the table, reaching inside to show me a bunch of tickets. “I’m not super organized. I typically report all cash in as income. I’ll have to dig through these. I owe them to my accountant anyway.”
“Would you know what he looked like?”
“I don’t. I actually think it might have been left with my daughter when I was out.” She dumps the receipts on the table. “I can go through them and call you.”
“Why don’t I help?” I ask.
“I think that’s under your pay grade.”
“Nothing is under my pay grade,” I assure her.
She studies me real hard and says, “How bad a person is my customer?”
“On a scale of bad, real damn bad,” I say.
“Well then, let me refill our cups, and let’s get to work.”
An hour later, Jay and Kit have both texted me three times and I’ve had to tell them to calm the fuck down every single time. The receipts are all dried up and there’s nothing we’ve found that has anything to do with the suitcase.
“It’s here somewhere,” Cathy says, sounding frazzled. “I’m going to dig through my jackets and ask Jennifer what she remembers. Call me tomorrow. Or come back by. I have this wonderful glazed donut blend I can make for you.”
At this point, I’ve assessed Cathy and do not believe she’s a suspect. Her daughter is another story. I want to pay her a visit when she’s not with her mother. For now, I’ve hit a wall. I leave Cathy with my phone number and am frustrated, certain the killer picked Cathy because he had a plan to manipulate her.
The question is how he knew her.
I pause at the door before I exit and turn to her. “Have you ever been to the diner down the street? It’s called—”
“Curly Joe’s. My gosh, yes. You have to try the whipped cream.”
Bingo.
He knows her from the diner.
It’s time to go back to the diner.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I exit Cathy’s apartment to find Jay and Kit leaning on the SUV.
Jeez, these two.
Once I’m close enough, Kit pushes off the door. “What the hell was that?”
“My job.”
“You were in there way too long,” he snaps. “I was ready to break down the door.”
“A gangster who gets away with so much but goes to jail for breaking down an old lady’s door. That would be priceless.” I motion for Jay to get off the rear door. “We’re going back to the diner.”
Jay, being the conformist that he is, opens the door and keeps his mouth shut. I climb in the backseat and punch the auto-dial for Rollins. He picks up on the first ring. “I was about to call you. The mayor said he called you and you said—”
“I’ve been with the old lady all this time. I’ll call him when we hang up. How did the autopsy go?”
“It was worthless, as you predicted, but I got a detective out to see Bonnie lickety-split.”
“Lickety-split. How old are you?”
“Don’t be a bitch. I know that’s hard for you. My mother says it.” He moves on. “She offered us her phone records and anything else we want. She even gave us a DNA sample. The detective that talked to her thinks she left out of fear that she’d be a target if she stayed. What about the old lady?”
“She runs a business where she just does random things for people. She delivered the suitcase but can’t remember who it was for. We spent hours going through her receipts. But she goes to the same diner several of the victims went to. I’m headed back there now. I haven’t asked for a list of regular customers, and I should have.”
“The diner seems like our ticket to a win. What about the ownership?”
“My boss said I’d know by tomorrow,” I reply. “Also, Cathy’s daughter, Jennifer. She’s an attorney who was supposed to have a blind date with a doctor today. Check her out, if you will. I want to make sure this isn’t somehow about her, not Cathy.”
“Got it. I’ll check her out. Do you know the doctor’s name?”
“I do not.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can do. More soon. And here’s to making it through tonight without a murder.” Another call comes into my phone and he says, “I have to go. Call the mayor.” He disconnects.
I glance at the caller ID and low and behold, find the mayor calling. I grimace and answer the line. “Mayor.”
“What are we doing with the press?”
“Nothing. We are not talking to the press.”
“I have to say something.”
“Say something, and you may become the next target yourself. Is that what you want?”