What kind of luck was that? Was this divine intervention?
I rolled, felt my aching body cry out in belated protest, grabbed my discarded tee from floor and pulled it on. By the time I got it down, Lee was back in the room.
“One of my men has been shot,” he told me.
All aches and pains fled and I jumped out of bed.
“Oh my God.”
“Bobby and Matt are comin’ up, I’ve got to jump in the shower. Let them in, will you?” and he disappeared into the bathroom.
I ran to the kitchen, tore through the cupboards and set the coffee to running when there came a knock at the door.
I looked out the peephole and let Bobby and Matt in.
They looked grim.
“You guys okay?”
Nods, no words.
“Who is it? How is he?”
“He was wearin’ a vest, amour piercing bullets.” This was all Matt said. This was all Matt needed to say.
“Oh no.” I scrambled through the kitchen. Lee had a collection of travel coffee mugs, definitely a man-on-the-go, not one that hangs around and sips his coffee. I yanked three down and asked, “Have you had breakfast? Do you want breakfast? I can make some quick toast.”
“Not hungry,” Bobby forced through stiff lips.
We all stood there staring at each other. I couldn’t stand not doing anything so I pulled the coffeepot out, wedged a travel mug under the spout, and filled the other two mugs with coffee. I was screwing on the tops when Lee came in, hair wet and freshly shaved.
“Let’s roll,” he said and Matt and Bobby started moving.
I handed out coffee, yanking the last mug out from under the spout and tossing the pot back underneath, trailing behind Lee while I screwed on the top.
“This one isn’t full,” I told Lee at the door, feeling stupid and useless.
“That’s okay.” He grabbed it.
“Call me when you know something.”
He bent to kiss me quickly and then he was gone.
While Stevie and I were packing up Burgundy the night before, Lee had gone over to my house and grabbed my bag. He’d brought it up to the condo last night. This was good, I had new clothes to wear and as it was early, I could get to Fortnum’s and help open. The Monday coffee crush would take my mind off Lee’s current activities and the fears that were encroaching that whoever-this-guy-was got shot doing something to help me.
I’d take Lee’s Crossfire, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind.
I showered, sucked down coffee and ibuprofen, decided to let my hair dry by itself, slapped on some happy makeup and tried not to look at the shiner which was finally fading. I pulled on my yellow t-shirt that had a picture of Starsky and Hutch’s car, the Striped Tomato, emblazoned across the chest. I yanked on faded jeans, my red belt and red cowboy boots and eased myself down to the garage.
I was sure the Crossfire was absolute heaven to drive but my mind was filled with too much garbage to process it. I didn’t know if the cops had caught Pepper Rick last night. I didn’t like considering Lee, man of action, stuck in a hospital waiting room and what he might learn when the wait was over. I didn’t want to think of what the day might bring.
It was ten past seven, we opened at seven thirty and as I drove up, I saw Jane standing outside the store looking at the sidewalk. I parked the Crossfire right out front and got out, my eyes on Jane who hadn’t moved.
Then I looked to where she was staring and stopped dead.
Pepper Rick was lounging in the doorway to Fortnum’s. It opened onto the corner, at an angle, and he was sprawled, butt and back to the sidewalk, shoulders and what was left of his head resting against our door. He was dead, dead, dead, just like Tim Shubert except there weren’t any splattered brains.
“Jane, honey, step away from there,” I said quietly.
She was frozen still and I noticed she had her cell phone in her hand.
“Jane,” I said a little more loudly, trying to get her attention.
She jumped, her cell came out of her hand, flew end over end through the air and landed on Pepper Rick’s chest, clattering down to rest by his hand.
We both watched the cell fly, land and settle.
“Oops,” Jane said and I think I saw her make the mental decision to get a new phone.
I dug my cell out of my purse, considered who to call and settled on Hank.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Um, it’s Indy. I hate to tell you this but there’s a dead guy lounging in the doorway to Fortnum’s.”
Silence.
Duke rounded the corner and Jane and my eyes turned to him, his face began to light with greeting, his eyes flicked down and he stopped short.
“Fuckin’ hell!” he boomed.
“Duke just arrived,” Hank said in my ear.
“Yep.”
“I’ll get someone on it, do we know this dead guy?”
“Well, I don’t have to worry about being kidnapped again.”
Hank disconnected and Duke looked at me.
“Was he makin’ a call?”