Part 13 (1/2)

Sal's eyes narrowed. ”I know what I'm doing, but I don't know about you. I'm watching her! I want to follow her to see what she's up to. If she goes near Angelina or Serefina, I'll run her down.”

Paavo decided he hadn't heard the threat, but more than ever, he was going to have to keep an eye on Sal. If Angie's father ended up in jail, she'd never forgive him. ”Don't you think Schull will recognize your car?” he asked.

”Why should she? I never drive it to the stores. I hire a limo, or let Serefina drive. This car is special. Besides, it's comfortable for surveillance work. You can easily stretch out in it-at least, you can when no one's with you. Why don't you get out of here?”

In the car was a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts, a thermos of coffee, and an empty Cran-Apple bottle with a screw top. Obviously, Sal had been reading up on how male private eyes do surveillance and had come well prepared.

”What would you do if she tried anything?” Paavo asked, working hard to keep calm and resist the urge to wrap his fingers around the man's scrawny neck and squeeze some sense into him. ”You don't dare to confront her.”

”I'd call you.”

”Well, that's good, at least,” Paavo said.

”Not that it would do any good,” Sal muttered.

The garage door to Schull's apartment building opened and an old blue Ford Escort pulled out. ”It's her!” Sal cried. He handed his coffee cup to Paavo and started the car.

The Escort put-putted down the street, sounding and looking like a lawn mower with a roof over it, and turned at the corner. Sal cranked the ignition and the Lincoln roared to life, but then he checked the rear-and sideview mirrors, pushed the lever into drive, wriggled it to be sure it engaged, put on his turn signal, and slowly eased the behemoth into the street.

Sal drove so slowly Paavo was sure if he got out and walked, he'd have reached the corner long before the car did. Once at the intersection, Sal stopped, slowly and carefully looked both ways, then turned.

At stop signs, Sal not only stopped, but even waited a beat before proceeding. Paavo was ready to shout, This is California! n.o.body came to full stops here but out-of-state drivers.

Fortunately, Schull's driving wasn't any zippier. The whole thing was like watching a football replay with a slo-mo camera.

Schull turned into the Safeway parking lot. When Sal finally reached it, the Escort was empty.

Sal pulled into a s.p.a.ce at some distance from the Escort, yet with easy eye contact, and then took back his coffee cup. Not a drop had spilled. He drove so slowly and steadily Paavo doubted any of it sloshed. Not even going around curves.

”You want a doughnut?” Sal asked.

Paavo's jaw was clamped so tightly it ached. ”No, thanks.”

They sat and waited, and after about twenty minutes, Schull came out pus.h.i.+ng a cart. Driving slowly as ever, Sal followed her back to her house, where she entered the garage.

Sal parked back in the s.p.a.ce he'd used earlier and looked at Paavo with disgust. ”You do this kind of surveillance work often?” he asked.

”Sometimes,” Paavo admitted.

”Your job is sure boring, isn't it?”

Earl White warmly greeted Angie at the Wings of an Angel Restaurant. ”Long time no see, Miss Angie.”

”Things have been a little...hectic,” Angie said. After saying good-bye to her mother after their strange series of conversations at the boutique, she decided a gla.s.s of wine would be just what the doctor ordered. A gla.s.s of strong wine. Fortified, in fact.

He led her to her favorite seat. ”I s'pose so, what wit' your engagement party an' all.”

”My engagement party, yes.” She shuddered. All that wasn't happening with it made her a little sick. At least she now could be certain that the cake and doves were nothing to worry about.

”What'll you have?” Earl asked.

”Port.”

”No food?”

”I'm not hungry. Tell me, Earl, do you know anything about the Athina Restaurant down at the wharf? It's just a little place. The owner's name is Eugene Leer.”

”Can't say I know it, but I'll ask Vinnie and Butch. Why? You aren't t'inking of making dat your favorite restaurant, are you?”

”Of course not! There's something strange going on there, and I'd love to know what it is.”

”Somet'ing strange? Hey, I'd love to know, too. I don't like strange. We gotta keep everyt'ing on da up and up.”

Angie nodded and managed to keep a straight face. Earl, Butch, and Vinnie had met at San Quentin while they were all doing time for scams or burglaries. Considering their continuing interest in the shadier side of life despite promises to the contrary, Earl's talk about the ”up and up” was more than a little hypocritical.

”Thanks, Earl. I appreciate it,” Angie said.

She was halfway through her wine and calming down when her nerves made a U-turn. Nona Farraday stuck her engagement-party-meddling head in the door. ”You're here!” she said, marching toward Angie's table. ”I was driving down Columbus Avenue and saw your car parked outside. I have to talk to you.”

”Speak of the devil. I was just thinking about you. Have a seat,” Angie invited, eyes narrow. She supposed Nona had come by to learn how well she was holding up under the strain of a party in shambles. Wouldn't she be disappointed?

Earl came over with a menu, but Nona just wanted a gla.s.s of Riesling.

”Don't laugh,” Nona said before Angie could get a word in, ”but I want to ask about your neighbor.”

That wasn't expected. ”You mean Stan?”

”What's going on, Angie?” Nona asked peevishly. ”You told me he was a good guy. I believed you! When he didn't call, I decided he was shy and kindly took the first step. I went to his apartment and it looks like he's got a wife and child! I don't like being played for a sucker. What's with the two-timing b.a.s.t.a.r.d?”

How could Nona sound so serious about Stan Bonnette? Maybe this was an act she was pulling to throw Angie off track. ”I don't know,” Angie said innocently. ”Maybe he doesn't like black doves.”

”Doves? What are you talking about?” Nona asked.

”Or strippers!” Angie practically spit the word at her.

”Who said she was a stripper?” Nona pressed her fingers to her temples. ”I can't take it, Angie! I'm really sick of the men you throw at me. First that bossy Calderon, and now two-timing Stan. Don't you know anyone decent?”

Angie couldn't believe what she was hearing. ”Are you trying to tell me you don't know about the black doves and purple cake?”

Nona gawked at her. ”I'm out of here. The whole world has gone mad.”

”Wait. Stan's no two-timer,” Angie said, wondering why it was suddenly her job to defend Stan. ”He met the woman at a restaurant, the Athina. She was pregnant, needed help, and turned to Stan.”

”Help? Bone-crus.h.i.+ngly desperate sounds more like it!” Nona sneered. ”And what's this Athina business? Are you sure it's a restaurant? I've never heard of it, and I know all the restaurants in town. In my line of work, I have to, you know.”

Angie hated it when Nona talked about her job. It was like rubbing salt in a wound. In fact, she was tired of being pushed around, used, lied to, and accused of having worthless friends. ”You don't know the Athina?” Her eyes opened wide and shock reverberated in her voice. She might have been wrong about Nona and the engagement party, but she wasn't wrong about Nona in general. ”I simply can't believe it!”