Day Shift
Page 41
She expected Manfred to say something angry and decisive, but when she glanced over at him, he just looked exasperated. “Because finding his car here, and Lewis missing, would sure let me off the hook,” he said, in the manner of one speaking to an idiot.
“Of course I would take care of the car,” she snapped. She was offended at the suggestion she could not make someone disappear in a professional manner.
“But he didn’t come by himself, because he doesn’t really want to talk to me person-to-person,” Manfred pointed out. “He wants to rant at me in front of a witness, to emphasize how terribly I exploited his poor sainted mother. He wants to ruin me, because his mother turned to me when she’d reached the end of her tether with him.”
“Okay, Mr. Insightful, so what’s our next step? By the way, knowing why he’s doing it doesn’t really help a lot.”
Manfred looked down. He appeared to be counting to ten. Olivia smiled.
“We still have to get the jewelry back,” Manfred said. “And I think we have to show that it was there all the time. Then he’ll have no more excuse to harass me. Or if he drums something up, no one will credit it.”
“I can’t gain entry again by a ruse,” Olivia said. The knocking at the door had begun, and they both stepped away from the window, retreating farther into the house to the former dining room. “I’ve tried to break in at night, and that didn’t work. I could try it again. This time, maybe, there won’t be anyone there waiting on me.”
Though since Falco had died, Olivia’s father had to be sure she’d been in the area. Maybe other men were just hanging around waiting for her. Maybe they would come to Manfred’s place of residence to look for her now. To try to find what connection he had with her. At least her name hadn’t been in the paper; she’d finally tracked down the article online.
“Or we could ask Fiji if she could help,” Manfred was saying when she pulled herself out of the abyss.
Olivia felt her mouth fall open. “Fiji? You’ve got to be kidding me. She can’t break and enter.”
“She wouldn’t go about it the same as you,” he said. “I don’t think you know how powerful Fiji is. You don’t know what she can do.”
“And you do?”
He nodded.
Olivia felt piqued. “In what way?” she demanded.
“Olivia! You know she’s a witch.”
“Yeah, yeah. And?”
“Do you know how good a witch she really is?”
Olivia reconsidered the first answer that almost flew out of her mouth. Instead, she said, “I guess I can hardly be a big skeptic since I sleep with an energy-draining vampire.”
“Good point. Anyway, she might come up with a solution that we haven’t thought of.”
“We can’t cross the road until Lewis and his pet journalist are gone.”
Without a word, Manfred turned on the television and they watched the news, ignoring the sound of persistent knocking at the front door. Then at the back.
There was unrest in the Baltic, refugees were dying in Africa, and the stock market wasn’t doing well. Just another wonderful day on the news circuit. In a ludicrous attempt to make the future seem less grim, nutritionists had discovered that cheese curd was a miracle food.
Olivia said, “I’ve never even seen a cheese curd.”
“Me, either.”
That was the extent of their conversation until the knocking stopped and they heard a car drive away.
Manfred called Fiji right away. “We’re coming over, okay?” he said.
Olivia heard her say, “Sure. It’s so hot. Want some iced tea?”
16
Was that the guy?” Fiji asked as she opened her door. They’d passed an exiting customer as they’d come in, a smiling white-haired lady who’d wished them a good day. She’d been carrying a cloth shopping bag, and it looked heavy.
“She sure looked happy,” Manfred said, glancing after the old woman, who’d climbed into an aged Cadillac.
“Yes,” Fiji said. “She did.” She waited, looking pleasant.
“Yes, that was the amazing Lewis and a blogger who’s evidently a big name if you love the Internet. Oh, your spell worked great at the police station,” Manfred said.
“Good!” She turned to lead the way in. The shop area was less crowded; when some of Fiji’s display cases had been destroyed the previous year, she’d liked the look when the room had been cleaned up. When she’d gotten her insurance payment, she’d added more wall shelves and fewer freestanding cabinets. Now Fiji retrieved her office chair from behind the counter and rolled it out to the two upholstered chairs flanking a little wicker table. On the table was a tray with a pitcher of tea and a plate of cookies.
Olivia and Manfred both helped themselves, though Olivia looked as if she were thinking sarcastic thoughts.
“What did your visitors want?” Fiji asked.
Manfred said, “Here’s our problem.” He went on to explain (in what he felt were clear terms): the charges by Lewis, the consequences of Lewis’s harassment to the whole community, and (to Olivia’s anger) the attack she’d faced at the Goldthorpe house.
Fiji said, “Well, I feel like Don Corleone when the undertaker comes to see him about the rape of his daughter.”
Manfred began laughing, then stopped in midcackle. “You mean, we should have come to you first? That you could have taken care of it better than we have from the get-go?” Olivia was not laughing a bit.
“Of course I would take care of the car,” she snapped. She was offended at the suggestion she could not make someone disappear in a professional manner.
“But he didn’t come by himself, because he doesn’t really want to talk to me person-to-person,” Manfred pointed out. “He wants to rant at me in front of a witness, to emphasize how terribly I exploited his poor sainted mother. He wants to ruin me, because his mother turned to me when she’d reached the end of her tether with him.”
“Okay, Mr. Insightful, so what’s our next step? By the way, knowing why he’s doing it doesn’t really help a lot.”
Manfred looked down. He appeared to be counting to ten. Olivia smiled.
“We still have to get the jewelry back,” Manfred said. “And I think we have to show that it was there all the time. Then he’ll have no more excuse to harass me. Or if he drums something up, no one will credit it.”
“I can’t gain entry again by a ruse,” Olivia said. The knocking at the door had begun, and they both stepped away from the window, retreating farther into the house to the former dining room. “I’ve tried to break in at night, and that didn’t work. I could try it again. This time, maybe, there won’t be anyone there waiting on me.”
Though since Falco had died, Olivia’s father had to be sure she’d been in the area. Maybe other men were just hanging around waiting for her. Maybe they would come to Manfred’s place of residence to look for her now. To try to find what connection he had with her. At least her name hadn’t been in the paper; she’d finally tracked down the article online.
“Or we could ask Fiji if she could help,” Manfred was saying when she pulled herself out of the abyss.
Olivia felt her mouth fall open. “Fiji? You’ve got to be kidding me. She can’t break and enter.”
“She wouldn’t go about it the same as you,” he said. “I don’t think you know how powerful Fiji is. You don’t know what she can do.”
“And you do?”
He nodded.
Olivia felt piqued. “In what way?” she demanded.
“Olivia! You know she’s a witch.”
“Yeah, yeah. And?”
“Do you know how good a witch she really is?”
Olivia reconsidered the first answer that almost flew out of her mouth. Instead, she said, “I guess I can hardly be a big skeptic since I sleep with an energy-draining vampire.”
“Good point. Anyway, she might come up with a solution that we haven’t thought of.”
“We can’t cross the road until Lewis and his pet journalist are gone.”
Without a word, Manfred turned on the television and they watched the news, ignoring the sound of persistent knocking at the front door. Then at the back.
There was unrest in the Baltic, refugees were dying in Africa, and the stock market wasn’t doing well. Just another wonderful day on the news circuit. In a ludicrous attempt to make the future seem less grim, nutritionists had discovered that cheese curd was a miracle food.
Olivia said, “I’ve never even seen a cheese curd.”
“Me, either.”
That was the extent of their conversation until the knocking stopped and they heard a car drive away.
Manfred called Fiji right away. “We’re coming over, okay?” he said.
Olivia heard her say, “Sure. It’s so hot. Want some iced tea?”
16
Was that the guy?” Fiji asked as she opened her door. They’d passed an exiting customer as they’d come in, a smiling white-haired lady who’d wished them a good day. She’d been carrying a cloth shopping bag, and it looked heavy.
“She sure looked happy,” Manfred said, glancing after the old woman, who’d climbed into an aged Cadillac.
“Yes,” Fiji said. “She did.” She waited, looking pleasant.
“Yes, that was the amazing Lewis and a blogger who’s evidently a big name if you love the Internet. Oh, your spell worked great at the police station,” Manfred said.
“Good!” She turned to lead the way in. The shop area was less crowded; when some of Fiji’s display cases had been destroyed the previous year, she’d liked the look when the room had been cleaned up. When she’d gotten her insurance payment, she’d added more wall shelves and fewer freestanding cabinets. Now Fiji retrieved her office chair from behind the counter and rolled it out to the two upholstered chairs flanking a little wicker table. On the table was a tray with a pitcher of tea and a plate of cookies.
Olivia and Manfred both helped themselves, though Olivia looked as if she were thinking sarcastic thoughts.
“What did your visitors want?” Fiji asked.
Manfred said, “Here’s our problem.” He went on to explain (in what he felt were clear terms): the charges by Lewis, the consequences of Lewis’s harassment to the whole community, and (to Olivia’s anger) the attack she’d faced at the Goldthorpe house.
Fiji said, “Well, I feel like Don Corleone when the undertaker comes to see him about the rape of his daughter.”
Manfred began laughing, then stopped in midcackle. “You mean, we should have come to you first? That you could have taken care of it better than we have from the get-go?” Olivia was not laughing a bit.
