“Then what was it like?”
“There was a man who died here in the restaurant,” I said, telling him something I was sure he already knew. “The cause of death wasn’t immediately clear, so the ME is involved. That’s all I know.”
“He didn’t just die ‘in the restaurant.’” Bard pointed toward the walk-in, festooned with crime scene tape. “Who was he and how did he get into Gus’s big icebox?” As I suspected, Bard knew all the details.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. Bard gave me his most skeptical look, and I moved away as fast as I could.
When I grabbed the next pot, I saw Chris had joined Gus behind the counter and was helping him keep up with the overflowing crowd. Gus was offering a limited menu of eggs and pancakes to accommodate his compromised food storage. I watched my two favorite men for a moment, holding my breath. Gus was unreservedly a solo act, but they alternated at the prep station, the big grill, and the counter like a well-oiled machine. I picked up a couple of orders and delivered them to keep the machine humming.
Things finally slowed down after ten. In the off-season, lots of people had nowhere to rush off to, and trading gossip at Gus’s was more fun than sitting at home. Gus poured mugs of coffee for Chris and me and came around the counter to sit with us.
“You people left the kitchen door unlocked last night,” he groused.
I looked at Chris, who’d been the last one in.
“No way. I’m sure I locked it.”
“It was unlocked when I came in this morning,” Gus insisted.
It seemed to me more likely that Chris had locked the door as he said. He knew how unsettled I was about having a corpse discovered in the building, and he would have been extra careful. From inside the restaurant, locking the kitchen door was a simple matter of turning the latch. From the outside, it had to be locked with a key. For years, only Gus and Mrs. Gus had possessed keys. Now Chris and I were entrusted with two additional copies.
I didn’t like that the door had been unlocked. Not one bit. Not when someone had probably—no, almost definitely—been murdered in the building two nights before. Chris opened his green eyes wide to signal that his thoughts were in the same direction.
I didn’t say anything to Gus. There was no point in freaking him out too. He had a healthy belief in Chris’s and my youthful carelessness. “We’re sorry, Gus,” I said to cut off further discussion. “It won’t happen again.”
Across the counter, Chris frowned at my disloyalty, but he had to know appeasement was the right strategy.
*
I agreed to watch the restaurant while Gus and Chris went off to the supermarket to buy supplies for lunch. As I sat at the end of the counter finishing my coffee, Jamie came in. I poured him a cup without even asking. He accepted it gratefully and took the stool next to mine.
“Did you manage to get some sleep last night?” I asked.
“Nine hours,” he answered. “Slept through my alarm. Missed roll call, so the chief sent a patrol car by my place to make sure I wasn’t dead.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t embarrassing.”
He smiled. “Not a bit.”
“Did you find out who your missing driver is?”
Jamie shook his head. “The owners were easily located by the Connecticut state police, but they’re a retired couple in Costa Rica for the winter. The keys were in the car, which was in the attached garage. There were no signs of a break-in, so the local cops are interviewing everyone who has keys to the house, which looks like a housekeeper, a neighbor, and the alarm company. Their son is in college in upstate New York, but he’s not missing and swears he hasn’t used the car in weeks.”
“Frustrating.”
“Yup.”
I glanced at the walk-in. “How are Binder and Flynn doing?”
“Don’t know. They’re in Augusta for the autopsy.”
“Are they coming to town today? I have something I need to tell them.”
“I imagine it depends. If they identify the body while they’re up in Augusta, that could take them off in other directions. Unless, of course, the victim has local connections.”
“What about the couples in our restaurant that night? Did Binder and Flynn talk to them?”
Jamie swiveled his stool to look at me. “Yesterday. All of them. Why do you ask?”
I blushed and stammered. “Because late last night, I remembered something that could be important.”
“Out with it.” His voice was stern, but he smiled to let me know he wasn’t really angry.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize this sooner. It’s just that, it was such a crazy day yesterday, and—”
“Julia, how bad can this be?”
It wasn’t bad at all. I just felt stupid. “I realized last evening that every couple in the restaurant Monday night paid, or at least partially paid, for their meal with a gift certificate that had been altered to add a phony expiration date.”
“Okay,” Jamie said. “Why is that important?”