Whiskey For Breakfast Read online

  The first thing I noticed was that my eyes were huge. More exotic. And my cheekbones were sharper. I looked edgier. If you could get over the fact that all my hair was laying on the floor and all that was left was a chin-length bob parted on the side.

  I was so relieved I didn’t have a matching Mohawk I almost wept. I wasn’t hideous. I could drive Nick’s car without slinking down low in the seat. I paid the girl and tipped her with my roll of quarters I’d been saving for emergency ice cream, and then I headed to Kate’s a couple of blocks away.

  I couldn’t find street parking so I parked at the courthouse and cut across Telfair Park to get to the office. Lucy didn’t bother to glance up when I walked in. She was too busy filing her blood red nails into sharp points.

  It was early enough that there were still pastries on the sideboard. I grabbed an apple fritter as I made my way back to Kate’s office.

  “Whoa,” Kate said as soon as she got a look at me. I went over to her Keurig and put in a pod for a cup of coffee.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “I like it. You look more sophisticated.”

  “Hmm…I was hoping for younger or sexier.”

  “Next time go for the shorn prostitute look. It worked for Anne Hathaway in Les Mis.”

  “If I remember right she looked neither younger nor sexier in that movie. I’m not sure the tuberculosis look is what I’m aiming for.” I took the seat across from her desk and bit into my fritter. “You have anything new for me?”

  “Because finding Tannenbaum’s heir isn’t enough for you to do?”

  “I’m working on it. I’ve got a couple of people to talk to today. I was just hoping you had something extra. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good adultery case.”

  “I’ve got one for you. I was going to give it to Carl since you’re working the Tannenbaum case, but he’s still not a hundred percent after his surgery. He’s more use to me now doing computer work in house.”

  I took the file and stuffed it in my bag and then I filled Kate in on how things were going with finding Tannenbaum’s heir. She stayed silent as I explained about Rose Parker and the son who didn’t belong to her husband.

  “You know what this job has made me realize?” I asked.

  “That you’re accident prone and have a tendency to daydream?”

  “I knew all of that beforehand,” I said, waving my hand in dismissal. “It makes me realize how rare a faithful marriage is. I don’t even know why people bother anymore. Maybe I’d be better off forgoing the man altogether and just going to a sperm bank when I’m ready to have children.”

  “You’ve been watching Kathie Lee and Hoda again. I can always tell because you start talking about how you can do everything for yourself and you’re responsible for your own orgasm kind of bullshit.”

  “Hmm.” Maybe she was right. But I wasn’t going to completely rule out the sperm bank if one day I woke up and was somehow almost forty and without a man. “How come when I do a background search on Nick nothing comes up?”

  Kate snorted out a laugh. “Jesus. You tried to do a background on Nick?”

  “He never talks about himself. I was just curious.”

  “Law enforcement officers have encrypted files. You don’t have the clearance to pass through them. Whenever we’re working a case against another cop I have to get a court order to dig very deep.”

  “Huh. Wish I’d known that ahead of time.”

  I grabbed my bag and waved bye to Kate, and then I headed back to the car to plan my next course of action. I had two possible heirs to check out. The first was a man named Norman Hinkle. He was in his early seventies and was an only child. He’d never married, and as luck would have it, he was a full-time resident of the Summer’s Eve Assisted Living center.

  My phone buzzed on the console and I remembered I’d turned it to silent when I’d gone to bed. Nick’s number showed up in the caller ID so I answered.

  “What’s up?”

  “A glass repairman will be by to fix your window in about twenty minutes. Can you meet him there?”

  I looked at my watch and shuffled the things I had planned for the day around a bit. “Sure. Thanks for taking care of it.”

  “You can pack some more clothes while you’re there. We found the cop you mentioned this morning. Or at least pieces of him. He worked property crimes. The good news is IAD had already been looking at him for being involved with Sakko. The bad news is we’re going to have a hell of a time tying Sakko to this murder.”

  “Is this your case too?”

  “I’m assisting. Homicides are up so we’re all doing double duty. Be careful out there. This guy didn’t die pleasantly.”

  “On that happy thought—”

  “You want me to bring dinner tonight?” he interrupted.

  Normally, I liked to cook. I’ve found it’s a good way of relieving stress. But I’d be cutting it close if I got everything done on my list today.

  “Sure. Surprise me.”

  I hung up and realized we’d had a normal conversation without any arguing or raised voices. Maybe my haircut had made me more mature.

  I turned the car on and blasted the heater and then punched buttons on the dashboard until I found the heater in the seat too. My buns were warm and tingly when my phone rang again. I used the Bluetooth in the car since I was pulling out into traffic. Nick was going to have a hard time getting this car back from me if he didn’t take it soon. I was in love.

  “Hello,” I said.

  There was no answer so I repeated it again.

  “Hope you’re having a good day. I like the haircut.”

  I recognized the voice. It belonged to Smash Nose. I slammed on the brakes and looked in my rearview mirror and then I looked on the sidewalks to see if I could spot him. My palms were sweaty and my heart rate had accelerated to dangerous levels.

  “What do you want?”

  “I just wanted to let you know you can’t hide from Johnny Sakko. I watched your cop boyfriend help pick up the pieces of one of his colleagues this morning. It was real entertaining.”

  “You’re sick.” Cars were lined up and honking behind me so I drove a couple of times around Orleans Square.

  “I just enjoy my work. Can’t wait to see you again.”

  He hung up and I somehow managed to navigate my way back to my neighborhood. I’d known my share of fear over the last several months, but Smash Nose took the cake.

  A pickup truck was waiting in front of my house when I pulled into the driveway and I got out and let the workman get busy on repairing my window. I couldn’t see any of my neighbors since they were tucked away inside their houses, but I could feel several sets of eyes on me. I remembered Savage had the day off since he’d taken a long weekend, but I didn’t see his SUV parked in the driveway.

  I made myself a sandwich while I waited for the window and drank it down with another cup of coffee. I was thinking I should probably lay off the coffee a bit. My hands were shaky. Or it could have just been the terror.

  The theme song from Grease made me jump and a little squeak might have escaped my mouth. The window repairman popped his head out of the bedroom with his eyebrows raised and I gave him a thumbs up before I answered the phone. It was Rosemarie and not another call from Smash Nose.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “I need to go shopping and thought you might want to come with me. I might need an outsider opinion. I’ve got a hot date with Leroy and I want to make sure I knock his socks off.”

  I was thinking Rosemarie probably didn’t have to worry about dressing special to knock Leroy’s socks off. Leroy seemed pretty self-sufficient in getting himself in the mood.

  “You don’t have school today?”

  “I called in sick. Leroy pretty much wore me out this weekend. It’ll probably be Wednesday before I have the strength to go back and face all those teenagers.”

  I winced in sympathy. I remembered the feeling. You needed a lot of energy to de
al with some of those kids.

  “I don’t know if I’ve got time to shop today. I need to follow up on a couple of things for a case I’m working on. Plus I don’t have a lot of money to shop with.”

  After I paid my rent I’d have exactly a hundred and twelve dollars left to live on until I got an unemployment check. Kate paid me under the table every two weeks so I wouldn’t have to give up my unemployment benefits and she wouldn’t have to pay extra taxes, but that was a secret between the two of us. I wasn’t due for another payment from Kate until the following Friday.

  “I’ll just come with you for whatever case you’re working on and then we can go shopping afterward. It’ll save time.”

  I was silent for a couple of seconds. Telling Rosemarie no about anything was the equivalent of kicking a small puppy. It was impossible to do. I sighed and knew I might as well give in.

  “I’ll pick you up in an hour. I’m waiting on a repairman at my house.”

  “What’s the dress code today? Are we spying on adulterers? Should I wear my trench coat?”

  “We’re visiting the old folks’ home. Just try to blend in.”

  I disconnected from Rosemarie and went to check my new hair out in the mirror again in hopes that it would brighten my spirits. The hair looked pretty good. But the rest of me needed an overhaul. I was sporting some monstrous bags under my eyes and my skin still had that clammy pallor of being scared shitless. I needed concealer. A lot of it. And maybe some ice cream.

  I said goodbye to the window guy and got back in Nick’s car. There was a Dairy Queen two blocks from our neighborhood so I went through the drive-thru and ordered a strawberry shortcake sundae since I felt like I needed the fruit to balance things out.

  I’d perfected the art of driving and eating with a spoon by using my knees to steer, so I hit the highway and headed toward Whiskey Bayou. I’d been born and raised in Whiskey Bayou, and it was like the entire town was stuck in a time warp. Nothing ever changed. The street signs were all the same, the lone grocery store was still run by the same family, and the teenagers still went out to the swamp to make out.

  I passed by the sign that said Welcome to Whiskey Bayou, The First Drink’s on us! and crossed the bridge next to the railroad graveyard. Once I hit Main Street I immediately became the center of attention. There weren’t very many people in Whiskey Bayou who drove expensive cars, and the one I was driving was unrecognizable so everyone watched as I passed by.

  Mrs. Meador was washing the windows of The Good Luck Café and gave me a steely stare until she recognized me behind the wheel. Then her eyes widened and she pulled out her cell phone. I ducked down in the seat as I passed the fire station and then the whiskey distillery the town had been built around.

  I meant to go straight to Rosemarie’s, but I ended up turning into the residential area and heading toward my mom’s house. I don’t know why I did it. Familial guilt more than likely. My mother would no doubt get a phone call letting her know I’d been seen driving a fancy car through town, and then she’d get her feelings hurt if I didn’t come to visit.

  I parked in the driveway next to my mom’s 1969 Dodge Charger that was an exact replica of the General Lee from the Dukes of Hazzard. She’d bought the car with the insurance money she’d gotten after my dad’s death, and I was pretty sure she had stronger feelings for the car than she ever had for my dad. They’d loved each other in their own way, but my dad was pretty straight-laced about things and my mom…well…my mom was more of a free spirit forced to become a respectable member of the community once she married and gave birth to me and my sister.

  I hadn’t realized how much she’d been strangling under the weight of the whole respectability thing until recently. Her new husband, Vince, had been my dad’s former partner and they’d known each other for years. My mom seemed happy, but I never knew what she was going to say or do, and it was like a total stranger had taken over her body.

  My mom was standing with the door open by the time I got out of the car, and I knew she’d already received a phone call. She wore yoga pants, a red sport tank, and her hair was piled high on her head in a ponytail. If it wasn’t for the few lines around her eyes we probably could’ve been mistaken for sisters.

  “You’re just in time for yoga and meditation,” she said as I crossed the threshold into the house I’d been raised in.

  It was a house filled with memories and one bathroom that had been the bane of my existence during high school. It smelled like whatever she’d managed to burn that morning for breakfast and lemons. My mother had never quite managed to learn how to cook. Fortunately, Vince had a cast iron stomach and was good about bringing home takeout.

  “I’m in a rush so I’ll have to pass on the yoga. I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by.”

  “Well, isn’t that sweet. And look at you! You’ve done something different.” My mother wasn’t the most observant woman in the world. There were times when I was a child that she drove away from a store without me or my sister. Eventually she’d remember and come back to pick us up, but my mom wasn’t so good with short term memory.

  “I cut my hair.”

  “I see it now. You look older.”

  “How much older?” I’d almost rather deal with the bald spot that look older.

  “Maybe older is the wrong word. More sophisticated. Like a real adult.”

  It made me wonder what the hell I looked like before. Though I guess I hadn’t had a different hairstyle since my freshman year of high school.

  “I just wanted to drop by and say hi.”

  “This is so exciting!” She clapped her hands and bounced on the soles of her cross trainers. “I get two surprises in one day. That doesn’t happen very often.”

  I was just about to ask what the other surprise was when my sister Phoebe came out of from the back of the house where the bedrooms were.

  “Oh, my God. I didn’t know you were coming to town,” I said, wrapping her in a hug.

  The last time I’d seen Phoebe had been at my non-existent wedding. We’d celebrated my wedding night with several bottles of champagne, a wedding cake for 200 people, and a Nora Ephron marathon. Then she’d disappeared the next day with one of the groomsmen who traveled the country in his rock band, and I hadn’t seen her since.

  This was pretty normal for my sister. She’d inherited the free spirit gene from my mom. She’d also inherited a flaky gene because on her best day she could barely remember to tie her shoes, and time was more of a suggestion than an actual thing you were supposed to keep track of. When she wasn’t being a rock band groupie she was a painter. Not the house kind but the artist kind. And she was good enough that some of her work was displayed in galleries, so I assumed she wasn’t exactly a starving artist. She always managed to have sweet cars and funky clothes.

  Phoebe pretty much looked exactly like me and my mom, only she had hot pink streaks in her waist length hair and she sported a tiny diamond stud in her nose. She wore jeans with the knees torn out and a Black Sabbath T-shirt that had paint spatter on it.

  “Paul decided he didn’t like the rocker lifestyle anymore, and I was getting antsy to paint for a while. I’m staying here until I can find a place to live. Maybe I’ll look at some property in downtown Savannah. I’ve been thinking about having a permanent studio.”

  My mother’s phone rang in the kitchen and she hurried off to answer it. I was sure it was someone else calling to let her know I was here.

  “You’ve got to help me get out of here,” Phoebe hissed as soon as my mom left the room. “I’ve been looking everywhere for an apartment, but I can’t find anything. I don’t think I can stay here another night. Mom and Vince are loud.”

  I winced because I knew exactly what she was talking about. I’d had the same experience of trying to sleep in my childhood bed while my mother and her lover went at it like animals in the next room. I’d rather have needles poked in my eyes rather than ever have to listen to that again.

/>   “And when did she start wearing yoga pants and start getting all these crazy ideas? This morning she told me she’s getting in shape so she can go to spy school and learn how to tango and make martinis. Is she on drugs?”

  I actually didn’t think the spy school idea was a bad one. I’d always wanted to learn how to tango. “Not that I know of. I think she’s starting to find herself. Or maybe it’s menopause.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s creeping me out. If I ever get like that you should probably just shoot me.”

  I pressed my lips together and elected not to say anything. The three of us were cut from the same cloth. I didn’t think menopause or drugs had anything to do with it. We just had lots of imagination and nowhere to use it.

  Mom came back in and said, “That was Loretta Grueber. She just wanted to let me know she saw you drive through town. She wants to know if you’re selling drugs since you’re driving that car.”

  “It’s not my car. I borrowed it from Nick.”

  Her face lit with joy at the mention of Nick. She loved Nick. Probably because she saw him as my last chance at a husband. And then her smile turned into a frown.

  “Is Nick selling drugs? Your father was a cop for a lot of years, and he never had a car like that.”

  “It turns out he’s independently wealthy.”

  “Oh, well then. That’s convenient. You should invite him to dinner tomorrow night. Now that Phoebe’s here it’ll be nice to have a family meal with everyone at the table again. And it would be wonderful if you could find Phoebe a date too. I don’t want her feeling like a fifth wheel.”

  I hmmmed noncommittally because I figured Nick wouldn’t come to another dinner unless he was dragged kicking and screaming. The last time he’d been here he’d had to eat two helpings of burned Cornish game hens while he’d been asked what he thought his chances were of getting me pregnant.