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Mr. Cabrera’s shouts cut him off. “What kind of scam are you runnin’?”
Riley and I both rushed back to the dining area. Mr. Cabrera saw us and said, “Trying to charge me fifty bucks for two sandwiches.”
Boom-Boom’s eyes were wide, her hand on her heaving chest. “Donnie, maybe you misunderstood.”
We all looked at Goosh. Red-faced, he said, “Fifteen?”
“No, no,” Riley said. “It’s on me. My treat, remember?”
“What a sweet boy you are,” Boom-Boom twittered.
Mr. Cabrera still looked ready to jump over the counter and do Goosh harm. “The boy’s not right,” he said under his breath to me.
He wasn’t. Wide pupils, scattered thoughts, herky-jerky movements. Where was Bill? Couldn’t he see that his head cashier was on something?
Goosh said to Riley, “Dude, you sure?”
“Yeah, of course.”
While Riley dealt with the mess at the counter, I moseyed down the hall. After checking to make sure it was clear, I dashed into Bill’s office.
A third barrel of mushrooms had appeared sometime during the last two days, which meant there was nowhere to hide if I needed to.
Working fast, I put the envelopes back where they belonged.
My palms sweated, my heart rate tripled. I fumbled a lot.
I closed the closet door, ran to the office door, poked my head out. I heard voices. Male ones. Coming my way.
I jumped into motion, slamming through the swinging door. I pushed open the ladies’ room door just as the swinging door revealed Bill and two suited men entering his office.
Letting out a deep breath, I couldn’t help but notice how close that had been.
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Heather Webber
After a second I opened the door, peered out. No one was coming.
I edged down the hall, nudged the swinging door a smidge so I could hear what was going on in Bill’s office.
From what drifted out, the men were with the prosecutor’s office, asking questions about Russ’s death.
Great. Was I next on their list?
“Hearing something good, Miss Marple?” someone asked, his breath tickling my ear.
By the drop of my stomach, I knew that someone.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people!” I said under my breath.
Kevin pulled me down the hallway. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Um, looking for the ladies’ room?”
He bypassed the dining room, put his hand on my back and steered me outside.
“Care to explain?” he asked. It was a cloudless day. The sun made his green eyes sparkle. Or maybe that was his anger.
“Not really.”
“Nina . . .” he warned.
I explained. All about the blackmail letters, how they ruled out my theory that Bill and Lindsey had wanted Russ dead.
“I was going to tell you about them,” I said.
“When?”
“After I put them back in Bill’s office.”
“Nina . . .”
“What? I found them by accident.”
“Where?”
“Um, in his closet?”
“Are you asking me?”
