1 Death on Eat Street by J.J. Cook Read Free Book Online

manicure. It had been weeks since my last one. I’d been so busy setting up my food truck and cleaning the diner, I’d forgotten many of the niceties.
    That was probably one reason Tommy Lee and my mother thought I’d lost my mind.
    Detective Latoure put down the file and stared at me for a few minutes.
    I stopped tapping my nails and tried not to fidget. The chair was
very
uncomfortable. I hoped Ollie wasn’t right and that I wouldn’t have to spend all day sitting here.
    “Miss Chase,” she finally began.
    “Call me Zoe. Everyone does.”
    Miguel’s dark eyes made it clear that I wasn’t supposed to speak yet. I tried lounging back in my chair as he was. I couldn’t pull off the look and sat back up.
    “Okay. Zoe.” Detective Latoure smiled. “You’re from a very well-known family here in Mobile. You’ve had a good education. Auburn, right?”
    I looked at Miguel, as I was supposed to. He nodded. “Yes. I went to Auburn.”
    That had been easy. I could do this whole talking-when-I-was-supposed-to thing.
    “You worked as a loan officer at the Azalea National Bank for the last five years. There are nothing but glowing reviews from the people you worked with, and your supervisors there.”
    Did that need an answer? I peeked at Miguel. He didn’t nod. I didn’t speak.
    “What are you leading up to, Patti?” Miguel asked. “I don’t think my client needs a history lesson on her own life.”
    “I appreciate that, Miguel. My point is that Zoe led a sheltered, uneventful life—until a few weeks ago. Out of the blue, she quit her job, gave up her apartment, decided to open an old diner, and started driving a food truck. Does that sound
normal
to you?”
    “
Normal
?” I asked. “Are you saying I’m not normal? And what do you mean uneventful? I’ll be thirty next year. I did all of those things to find my dream. I want to make people happy with my food. I don’t think that makes me a killer.”
    Oops.
    I could tell I’d said something I wasn’t supposed to. Miguel’s expression was as dark as a thundercloud above Mobile Bay.
    Was I supposed to sit there and let this woman disparage my life?
    I sat back again. “Sorry.” I was never very good at keeping quiet about anything. I also tend to talk when I’m nervous.
    “What’s your point?” Miguel’s voice was calm. “People frequently leave their jobs. How does that have anything to do with the taco truck owner’s death?”
    “I’m getting to that,” Detective Latoure promised.
    “Let’s expedite it.” Miguel sounded impatient.
    “My point is that Zoe is living a very stressful life—
for her
—right now. We know that she and the victim argued yesterday on Dauphin Street in front of a crowd of people at lunch.”
    “Argued? He tried to
assault
me.” I tossed out the words like they were firecrackers. “If he wasn’t dead, I’d file charges against him.”
    “Really?” Detective Latoure took out a tape recorder. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
    I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out because Miguel’s hand went over it.
    “I need a moment alone with my client,” he said abruptly.
    I knew what that was all about.
    Before Detective Latoure could leave the room, the door burst open, and my father strode into the tiny space.
    “Zoe! Baby! Are you all right? Why didn’t you call and tell me about all of this? Daddy would’ve taken care of it.”
    Daddy was an impressive man. He was tall, broad shouldered, lean, and fit for a sixty-something-year-old. He was tan from his frequent fishing trips. He was always going on cruises and sailing to exotic places since he and my mother had divorced.
    He was dressed to the hilt in an expensive gray suit and a red tie. He even wore the matching onyx cuff links and tie tack I’d given him for his last birthday.
    He knew how to make an entrance. Funny how much he suddenly reminded me of Tommy Lee.
    “Daddy!” I ran and threw my arms around his neck. I was very happy to see him.