The Devil May Care by David Housewright Read Free Book Online Page B

don’t bother me any; I’m sure not going to be intimidated by a PI. When I refused to answer, he said his employer could make life on Lake Minnetonka impossible for me. I threw him out. I’ve been waiting for someone to knock on my door with bad news ever since. I thought that someone might be you.”
    â€œNo.”
    Mary Pat shrugged her shoulders as if she were willing to take my word for it—for now.
    â€œThen you have nothing to do with the Chevy Impala in the back row of the parking lot,” she said.
    â€œWhat Impala?”
    She tilted her head at the window, and I took a look.
    â€œSee it?” she asked.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œInside is a man who has been watching my restaurant all day. Yesterday there was a different man in a Sentra.”
    â€œA red Sentra?”
    â€œHow did you know?”
    â€œFor what it’s worth, Mary Pat, I don’t think they’re interested in you or your restaurant. I think they’re waiting for Navarre.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThe PI. Did he tell you why he was looking for him?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDid you get his name?”
    â€œNo. That’s one reason why I threw him out. He was acting all big and emphatic, but he wouldn’t tell me who he was or whom he was working for.”
    â€œYou’re only guessing that Mr. Muehlenhaus sent him.”
    â€œDo you think I’m wrong?”
    â€œNo, I think it’s a pretty good guess. Although … I’ve had dealings with Mr. Muehlenhaus in the past. He’s usually more subtle than this.”
    â€œIf you say so.”
    â€œWhat is your relationship with Navarre?”
    â€œJuan Carlos is an investor. He lent the restaurant a sizable amount of money, for which he now receives a percentage of the profits until principal and interest are paid.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œIt’s simple. I was undercapitalized. The business was failing. The infusion of money allowed me to enlarge the patio, expand the pier, improve my menu, and provide my clientele with the kind of service it demanded. Truth be told, I was fortunate that Juan Carlos came along when he did. It’s like I said, though—he is not an owner. Nor is he involved in the day-to-day operation of the restaurant.”
    â€œWhat I meant was, why did he invest in Casa del Lago? Did you advertise for investors?”
    Mary Pat spoke carefully, weighing each word on her tongue like a politician—or someone else with plenty of secrets.
    â€œWhat I was told,” she said, “Juan Carlos began looking for business opportunities immediately after he settled on Lake Minnetonka. A banker suggested that I might be interested in a silent partner. Juan Carlos turned out to be less silent than I would have preferred. Other than that, I have no complaints.”
    â€œWhen was the last time you saw him?”
    â€œLast Thursday during the dinner rush. Dinner and lunch is when he usually comes by. Juan Carlos will walk through the restaurant, hang out on the patio, meet and greet customers. He’s very good at making friends. Sometimes he’ll pick up a tab. It’s never on the house, though. He always pays it out of his own pocket. He likes to be seen here. He likes to play the patrón. I don’t mind too much because the customers seem to love the guy. Seatings are higher than ever. So are check averages. I was surprised when he didn’t show up Friday and Saturday.”
    That started me thinking devious thoughts about the criminal behavior of unscrupulous characters. I zoned out for a few moments, forgetting completely that Mary Pat was sitting in the booth with me. She called me back.
    â€œHey,” she said.
    â€œSorry. I was just … How much did Navarre invest in your restaurant?”
    â€œI don’t see how that’s any of your business, McKenzie.”
    â€œYou’re right, you’re right … I was