“Hmm. All my ‘friends’ should look like you.” Carmen’s tone hooked verbal air quotes around the word, and she stood back, shifting her gaze between him and Moreno. Finally, she turned for another piece of pizza, nudging both plates across the counter, and Kellan let go of the breath he’d been holding. “I like you better than the other one she normally comes in with. He’s hot too, but bossy. Thinks he owns the place.”
“I’ll be sure to let Hollister know you said hi,” Isabella said lifting a brow along with one corner of her mouth. She passed over the twenty to cover the pizza, putting all the change Carmen handed back into the otherwise empty tip jar by the register.
“Be sure to tell him I said kiss my ass. Now what else do you want? Believe me when I tell you I’m not wasting all night with you two.”
She didn’t have to ask Moreno twice. “I’m looking for some information on a delivery you guys made to a house not far from here on August twenty-second.”
“That was almost a month ago, and we make a lot of deliveries.” Carmen folded her arms over her chest, but Moreno didn’t so much as bat an eyelash.
“You also have a computer system that keeps great records. Ninety-three-ten Glendale, about four miles from here. Can you look it up?”
“It’ll cost you.”
“I tip well.”
“You’d better,” Carmen said, blowing out an exaggerated breath before tapping the touch screen register to life. “Ninety-three-ten Glendale, let’s see…oh.” Her lips pressed into a hard, flat line. “Looks like we delivered there a bunch of times.”
“Anything recent?” Moreno asked, and Kellan could practically see the wheels turning in her mind.
Just like he could see Carmen’s expression slam shut. “Not in the last three weeks.”
Moreno leaned forward, hands flat over the chipped countertop. “Did the customer ever pay with a credit card?”
“No.” Carmen frowned and started to fidget. “Always cash.”
“But you remember the house,” Kellan said, and bingo. Her frown deepened for a split second before she blanked it from her face.
“Whatever, pretty boy. Like I said, we deliver to a lot of places.”
“Carmen.” Isabella’s gaze narrowed, although with more question than accusation. “Have you been to this house?”
Carmen made a noise comprised of mostly irritation, but it didn’t hide the unease pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe I did the deliveries one night when our regular runner was out with the flu.”
“And you brought a pizza to this address?” Moreno’s tone shifted, softening ever so slightly, and Kellan would bet his paycheck she’d seen Carmen’s grimace just as clearly as he had. “Do you remember anything about the delivery?” she asked with care. “Who was in the house? What they looked like?”
Pushing back from the business side of the counter, Carmen scoffed, her titanium-tough attitude right back in place as she jammed her hands into the denim slung dangerously low over her hips. “Yeah, I remember. The guy invited me in to be dessert, then stiffed me for a tip when I told him he’d have better luck fucking himself. Asshole.”
Okay, so it was a good start, but being an asshole wasn’t against the law. Sadly. A fact which Moreno hadn’t seemed to have lost sight of, either. “What else, Carmen?”
Tap-tap-tap-tap went one bright green nail against the countertop. “Nothing. That’s all I remember.”
“Bullshit.”
Carmen’s eyes darted toward Kellan at the same time his darted toward Isabella, but Isabella didn’t stand down. “I need this guy, Carmen. I think you know why.”
“I know nothing,” she snapped, and Moreno’s voice gentled to balance out her thorny edges.
“You’ve seen him around, haven’t you. From before you started working here.”
The prompt was enough to either take Carmen by surprise or make her throw in the towel. A little, anyway. “Maybe. Look”—her dark stare swiveled over the tiny dining area beside them before moving furtively to the plate glass windows facing the pier—“this is big shit, Isa. These people…you don’t understand.”
Kellan’s blood chilled at the sudden, nameless emotion in Carmen’s eyes, then turned colder still at Isabella’s reply.
“Believe me, I do. That’s why I need to know what you know, mija. So I can do something about it.”
Carmen’s frown expressed her doubt at the possibility in no uncertain terms. Still, she looked out at the water in the distance and said, “There was only the one guy in the house when I delivered the pizza. I’ve seen him before. Once. Six, maybe eight months ago. I was at a club and he invited me to a private party.” She paused, but only long enough to shrug. “Said I was his boss’s type, and if I went, I could have whatever I wanted. Booze, pills, heroin. Said it would be just a taste of the future.”
Moreno didn’t move, just listened, and even though Carmen’s story was kicking him in the gut, Kellan did the same.
“But something about the whole thing felt off,” Carmen continued. “A little too good not to have a punch line. I said no, and one of the other girls who was there didn’t, so he didn’t push. But I never saw her again.”
“Would you recognize her if you did?” Moreno asked, but Carmen shook her head.