“I did know. My mom worked with her on some charity board or something.” Alana tapped her forehead with her index finger. “Mom said she’s a nutcase, but a very smart nutcase. She apparently soaked Mr. Russom for a lot in the divorce.”
“Huh.” I watched a pelican plunge nose first into the water. It surfaced with the pouch under its beak full with seawater and a wriggling fish. “I wonder . . .”
“What?”
“Maybe Katherine’s dad is hurting for money. He wouldn’t be able to afford a court case against his fumigant.”
“So he has to kill off the opposition?” Alana’s light green eyes went wide under her black-and-orange Giants cap with the intertwined SF on the front.
“Your guess is as good as mine. The question is, was Katherine helping her father? Did she try—unsuccessfully—to dissuade him and is now trying to cover up his crimes? Protect him?”
“Or is she the killer?” Alana elbowed me. “You better be careful, girlfriend. You don’t want to mess with somebody like Katherine. She’s never been long on scruples.”
“I promise.”
Chapter 28
After our walk, Alana and I agreed a late lunch at Boathouse was exactly what we needed. It was for me, anyway, as my hearty tamale was a long-ago memory by now. We settled into a table on the patio again. A young woman brought us menus and said our waitperson would be right with us. We were the only diners out here.
“I wonder if Cody is working this afternoon,” I said.
“So you can grill him about his father?” Alana lifted her pale eyebrows.
“Maybe. Not grill, exactly.” I picked up the menu. “Ooh, I didn’t see this the other day. Chicken mole nachos.” I pronounced the name of the rich sauce the Spanish way, MOE-lay.
“Sounds delish.” She giggled. “I remember the first time I read it on a menu. I had to be all of six, and I wondered what a chicken mole was. Some kind of underground rodent with feathers?”
We’d both been big readers as kids. “I know what you mean. I read Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves and had no idea why he was calling the door a see-same. Mom hadn’t read it aloud to me and that was how I sounded out sesame.”
A gull squawked, hovering above the glass wall as if it wanted to perch. The restaurant had strung a wire above the wall adorned with colored metallic streamers. The bird had nowhere to land. Smart move. And the wall looked festive, too.
“Speaking of Cody.” Alana pointed.
He hurried into the patio from the parking lot and rushed toward the restaurant, not even glancing at us.
“Somebody must be late for work,” I said.
“I guess. Maybe he just came from class.” She perused the menu. “I’m going for California fish chowder and more of those truffle fries. Plus a pilsner.”
“Sounds good.” I checked my phone. Rats. Still nothing from Mel Washington.
“Why the frown?” Alana asked.
“Yesterday morning I met the county pathologist. She couldn’t find the death report on my mom.”
Alana eyed me for a moment. “And you want the report to learn if your mom was poisoned or not.”
“Right. I want to find out if they did an autopsy at the time. If they did, I assume they would have detected toxins in her. Since they called her cause of death an aneurysm, I would accept it. But if they didn’t perform an autopsy, well, then we don’t know.”
She nodded once. “So I made an appointment to talk with Katherine tomorrow afternoon about the work her company does.”
“You would hire her to run your wedding?”
“Probably not, but I’d like to see what she offers. Will you come with me?”
“I’d love to. Tell me where and when.”
She’d opened her mouth to speak when Cody approached us. Bingo.
“Back so soon, ladies?” Cody’s shoulder-length hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, as it had been Monday, but today he looked less neat than he had then, and he didn’t smile at us.
“Couldn’t stay away.” Alana smiled up at him.
“What can I get you today?” His pencil-holding hand over the order pad shook slightly.
“I’d like the mole nachos, please,” I said. “I’m back here from where I live in Indiana, and believe me, you can’t get mole anywhere there.”
He smiled briefly. “Yeah, mole is pretty awesome. Where are you staying?”
“I have a room above the Nacho Average Café.”
“Tell Carmen hi from me. I washed dishes for her in high school.”
“I will.” I glanced at the beer section of the menu. “I’d like a Vat 629 IPA, too.” I heard a phone vibrate but it wasn’t mine, and Alana didn’t move to check hers, either. Must be his.
Cody’s brows lowered. He jotted down my drink without meeting my gaze. After Alana gave him her order, he hurried off without speaking.
“Does he seem nervous or upset?” She watched him go. “Like he’s not dealing with whatever.”
“I’d say so. But why?”
“Think something came up with Daddy? Or with big sis?”
“No idea.”
“I think we need to engage him in some serious conversation when he comes back. It’s not like he has anything else to do out here.”
I agreed. We chatted about Alana’s work until Cody returned with our drinks.
Alana thanked him. “So Cody, what’s your major at UCSB?”
He blinked and gave a little frown. “Um, double major in chemical engineering and computer science. Why?”
“Those are serious majors,” she said in an approving tone. “I’m in biochem myself. Are you looking to go into business with your father after you graduate?”
“What?” He stared at her. “Are you kidding? I hate . . .” He gave a hard shake of his head. “Never mind.”
“You don’t approve of the products Agrosafe makes?” I tilted my head.
He gazed at me. “No, I don’t.” He glanced over at the restaurant’s building.
“I heard the sprays can really make people—and animals—sick,” I continued.
“Exactly.” Cody shook his head, looking disgusted. “That poor lady’s alpacas.”
“You mean Ceci Shaterian,” I said.
He did a double take.
