No Such Thing As a Good Blind Date: A Brandy Alexander Mystery (No Such Thing As: A Brandy Alexander Mystery) (7 page)

“Brandy. I’m in trouble.” The voice was just a whisper, but I knew it all the same. I clutched the phone to my ear, waiting to hear the rest of the message, but that was it. Toodie. Master of the understatement.
“I’m in trouble.” No duh!
My heart started beating in triple time. Should I call the police? Wake up Janine and Carla? Call The News Network and offer them an exclusive in exchange for a job? He sounded so scared and he hung up so abruptly. Toodie, what the hell is going on?

I woke up with the cell phone welded to my hand. After I’d calmed down, last night, I punched in “received calls” and Toodie’s number came up. Okay, so it wasn’t a dream. I tried to call him back, but he didn’t pick up. I knew I should be making a beeline to the police station to report this latest turn of events, but something held me back. It was the desperation in his voice. This was not the voice of a vicious killer. This was the voice of a little boy in
big
trouble. I kept hoping he would call me back. But then what? Ask him if he’d done it? That just seemed rude.

I was spared having to talk to Janine and Carla about this because they were already gone. They’d left a message on the coffee table.

“You were sleeping so soundly we didn’t want to wake you. Fed Rocky and ‘What’s his name’. Call us.” I could tell Carla had written the note because it was signed with a bunch of hearts and x’s and o’s at the bottom.

Paul needed me for the lunch shift, so I hopped in the shower and then threw on a clean pair of jeans and a black pullover sweater. I figured that way if I spilled anything on me, it wouldn’t show too badly. I grabbed my bag, stuffed a TastyKake in there for nutrition and headed out the door.

My cell phone rang just as I pulled into the parking lot of Paul’s club.

“Hey, it’s Bobby.”

I smiled at the sound of his voice, before I remembered that we had a strictly professional relationship these days. He probably had a lead on the freezer or something.

“What’s up?” I maneuvered, one-handed into the spot marked “Reserved for Owner.” Well, it
is
Paul’s car.

“I uh, just wanted to see how you were feeling this morning.”

“Oh. Fine. I’m fine. So, do you have any leads on the dead woman?”

“You know I can’t talk about the specifics of an on-going investigation.”

“You got nothin’, right?”

Bobby laughed and the sound went straight to the pit of my stomach. “I got nothin’.”

I pictured him leaning back in his chair at work, his long blue jean clad legs stuck out in front of him. I thought about the hole in his office wall and wondered if he had gotten it fixed. I thought about Marie and what she would think if she knew he had called me. It never once occurred to me to tell him I’d heard from Toodie.

“I’ve got to go, Bobby,” I said, guilt rearing its ugly head. I knew from past experience that he frowned on me withholding evidence in a murder investigation.

I started across the parking lot, the cell phone cradled against my ear. I could hear him breathing softly on the other end.

“Okay, well, take care. And change your locks.” I hung up without telling him that I already did.

Paul was waiting for me behind the bar. I took a moment to study him as he happily swabbed down the mahogany. My brother is one of the sweetest guys ever. He’s handsome and smart and infinitely kind. But he has no common sense when it comes to women. He always ends up with pound puppies, women who need to be rescued. The last girl he was serious about lived in Camden, in a doublewide trailer she shared with her alcoholic ex-husband and her six children. She was twenty-four. I guess bad relationship karma runs in the family.

“Yo,” Paul smiled, looking up. “The lunch crowd will be here any minute and it’s going to be jammed today. Grab a pad and start taking drink orders over at table four.”

“Right,” I said, wondering which one was table four. My cell phone went off again, probably Bobby, wondering if I’d changed my locks in the last three minutes. I held up my index finger to Paul. “One sec,” I mouthed. “Hello?” I said into the phone.

“Brandy, it’s Toodie.” Oh, crap.

“Paul, give me a minute.”

“Is someone there with you?” Toodie asked. The fear in his voice was palpable.

“Yeah. Hold on. Don’t hang up.” I covered the mouthpiece. “Possible job interview.”

Paul gave me two thumbs up and headed off to table four. I bolted for the Ladies’ Room and locked the door.

“Are you still there?” My hands were shaking but I kept my voice steady.

“Yeah. Where are you?”

“At Paul’s club. Where the hell are
you?
”

Toodie hesitated. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Toodie, you left a freezer full of human remains in my basement, I think that warrants an explanation.”

“Oh, you know about that—”

“Not to mention the dog!”

“Oh, shit. I forgot about the dog. Is he okay?”

I took a deep, cleansing breath. “He’s fine, except he’s a little constipated. Listen, I hate to ask, but—”

“I didn’t do it, Brandy, I swear to God. I thought there were steaks in that freezer. I didn’t know until I looked in there.”

It was my turn to hesitate. “Do you know who she was?” In my mind I’d been referring to this woman by disjointed body parts. It was less painful than thinking of her as someone’s loved one.

“I didn’t even know it was a ‘she’. When I saw what was in there, it freaked me out so much I just slammed the door and bolted.”

“Well, where did the freezer come from in the first place?”

“It belongs to a guy I know named Glen.”

“So if it belongs to Glen, why’d you open it?”

“I got hungry.”

A small, hysterical giggle escaped my lips. I believed him. “Listen, Toodie, there’s an APB out on you. You’ve got to turn yourself in. You’ve just made things worse for yourself by running away.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I do. Look, you can talk to Vince Giancola. He’s the Assistant D.A. I’ll go with you.”

“I don’t think so. He’s the one who prosecuted me over that little incident with Ilene.”

“Oh.” I could see where that might pose a problem.

“Ya gotta help me.”

What did he want me to do, drive the getaway car as he hightailed it out of town? I had a million questions, but they would have to wait. Someone was rattling the bathroom door, trying to get in.

“Be out in a second,” I yelled. “Look, I’ve got to go. Give me a number where I can reach you. You haven’t answered any of my messages.”

“I’ll call you.”

“When?”

“Tonight. So, like, don’t tell anybody I called, okay? At least not until you hear me out.”

“Alright, but if you don’t call me tonight, I’m calling the police.”

“Fair enough. Thanks, Roomie. I knew I could count on you.”

Dammit. Why does he have to be so…so…pathetically endearing? I must be nuts.

Waiting tables is harder than it looks. There are so many things to remember; who ordered what, which customer is allergic to onions (especially important) and where the Epi-Pen is kept in case you forget. The customer is always right (even when they’re not) and if you want a good tip, don’t suggest to overweight people that they substitute salad for the fries, even if you’re doing it for their own good.

Paul approached me midway through the shift. “I was thinking, maybe you’re more suited for hostessing. Ya know, the “meet and greet” type.”

“No, no, I’m really getting the hang of this. Oh, and could you tell the people at table three that French Onion soup doesn’t stain. For some reason they don’t believe me.”

Paul gave me a long look. “How about you be the hostess and I raise your salary to compensate for lost tips.”

“That’s alright, Paul. I haven’t made any tips anyway.”

I managed to get through the rest of the shift without incident but with newfound respect for people in the service industry. Paul caught me just as I was leaving for home.

“Are you going to be alright tonight? Because I can come by after the club closes if you want.”

“I’ll be fine, honest. Paul, you don’t have to baby sit me.”

He slung his arm around my shoulder and walked me to the door. “But you’re my baby sister. Plus mom would kill me if I didn’t watch out for you.”

“I’m the worst waitress in the history of customer service and you haven’t fired me. Nepotism notwithstanding, I think you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty.” I kissed him on the cheek and told him I’d be back tomorrow. I’m not sure, but I think he blessed himself as I walked out the door.

I stopped at the Acme on the way home. Since Toodie left I was back to eating Cheerios for dinner. It had started to rain, a slow, steady drizzle that picked up speed as I exited the car. By the time I made it inside the store, my hair was hanging in limp, sodden strands and my jacket, the ancient, woolen pea coat, was soaked through to my skin. I smelled like a Border Collie.

I was perusing the frozen food aisle to see what was new in the world of Macaroni and Cheese, when I heard a small child’s voice about three feet in front of me.

“Doggie,” she giggled. I looked up, wondering who would bring a dog into a supermarket. A two year old with the face of a Botticelli painting smiled innocently up at me. She was pointing a tiny finger in my direction.

“Sophia, come here, sweetheart.”

The voice stopped me cold. Bobby and I locked eyes as he scooped his beautiful daughter into his arms. His cart was filled to the brim with diapers, household essentials and fresh produce. It was the cart of a married man, a daddy. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” I love being caught off guard. It really sharpens my conversational wit.

“This is my little girl, Sophia. Can you say hi to Brandy, honey?”

A droplet of water from my bangs began making its way down my cheek. At that precise moment Marie DiCarlo rounded the bend from aisle twelve in search of her husband and daughter. Even with her face contorted in anger, she looked radiant. Bobby nodded to her. “Marie, this is an old friend, Brandy. Brandy, my wife, Marie.”

“Um, we’ve met.”

“What a touching scene,” Marie said, linking arms with Bobby. “But if you need consolation, I suggest you go somewhere else to find it.”

“What?” Oh, she thought I’d been crying. I swiped away the raindrop. “No, I was caught in the rain.”

Bobby’s face tensed under the fluorescent lighting. “Brandy, you don’t owe her an explanation.”

“But she could use a bath,” Marie smirked. “She stinks.” All right, enough was enough. That bitch was goin’ down.

“For your information, Marie, it’s the coat. And ya know I’ve had enough of your snide remarks. I’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attitude. If you’re insecure about your marriage, deal with it with
him,
and leave me the hell out of it!”

There was a moment of dead silence, followed by an ear splitting wail.

“Now you’ve upset the baby. Come here, mija.” Marie lifted Sophia out of Bobby’s arms and stalked off, showering me with a field of death rays as she went.

“Ah, look—” Bobby started.

“Just go,” I said, not bothering to look at him. I picked a frozen Mac n’Cheese out of the display case and threw it in my cart. “Your wife is waiting.”

It was ten p.m. and still no word from Toodie. I waited all through The Gilmore Girls and two Will and Grace reruns. If it weren’t for the Hershey bars I’d consumed on the way out of the store, I would have been asleep by now. I scanned the newspaper in my obligatory job search and did the crossword puzzle, making up words just so I could fill it all in. I was just crawling into bed at midnight, when the phone rang.

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah, now spill it.”

According to Toodie, Glen was a friend of a friend from prison. He’d called Toodie the other night and told him he had a freezer full of very expensive steaks, and if he helped him move them he’d cut Toodie in on the action. Long on enterprise and short on ethics, Toodie figured this was a harmless way to make a little extra cash. He drove out to meet Glen, and when he got there, the door was unlocked but Glen wasn’t home. He went around back and there was the freezer in a shed.

“Glen didn’t tell me where he wanted the freezer moved to. Only that it was really important to get it out of there ASAP. I tried to call him but he wasn’t picking up his cell. So I figured as long as I was there, I’d pull the dolly out of the truck and take the freezer back to your house. I didn’t think there’d be any harm in that.”

Wow. Hindsight is a truly worthless thing.

“Did you ever get a hold of Glen?”

“No, I called him a bunch of times, but he never answered his phone.”

I thought about this for a minute. “Toodie, is it possible that Glen never intended to meet you there? That maybe he wanted you to move the freezer on your own?”

“But why? He wanted a cut of the steaks too.”

I sighed. “Toodie, they weren’t steaks, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Toodie, where are you?”

“I can’t tell ya. Look, I want to, I really do, but it’s too risky. Glen must know by now that I know what was in the freezer. And he knows I can nail him. This guy is really bad news, Brandy. I mean, psycho meth-freak kinda bad.”

“Then come out of hiding. Talk to the police. Bobby Di-Carlo’s on the case. You know he’d give you a fair shake.”

I could feel Toodie mulling this over in his brain. It was burning up the cell waves.

“Not yet. I was sort of hoping you could do a little investigating for me. Like, check out Glen’s house, maybe gather some clues. I know you’re really great at that sort of thing.”

Once, I did it once, and it almost got me killed in the process.

“I don’t know, Toodie. You said this guy is psycho.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t mean for you to knock down his door or anything. Just kinda scope it out. If you can find anything at all to prove what I’ve been telling you, then maybe I can go to the police.”

It actually sounded reasonable to me. “Okay. I’ll do it. But if I come up empty, I’m going to have to tell the cops.” Before we hung up, I asked him about the dog.