My ears rang. My breaths came fast and furious. Was I having a panic attack? I’d never experienced one before. And I didn’t know anyone who had. I forced myself to breathe slowly, in and out. I leaned back against the cool, smooth pillows and dropped my shoulders, letting my hands go limp at my sides. I murmured out loud, “You’re safe. It’ll be fine. You’re safe. It’ll be fine,” over and over, with every exhale.
Eventually, the trick worked. I turned out the light and slid back down under the covers. I vowed tomorrow and Friday I was going to be on vacation. No snooping, no questions, nada. But I kept up my mantra until my eyes shut of their own accord.
Chapter 33
I trotted downstairs to breakfast at eight the next morning. I’d headed out for a sunrise bike ride at six thirty. A vacation bike ride, as I reminded myself. The air seemed less smoky at dawn, especially down by the beach, and the exercise in the fresh salt air had invigorated me. Now showered and dressed in jeans, top, and sandals, I was ready for whatever this day held. I couldn’t wait for a cup of rich, dark coffee and something yummy to eat. My pursuer of the night before seemed like a bad dream in the plentiful light of a California day, and my panic attack hadn’t returned, either.
Inside the deliciously fragrant café every table was taken. I headed out to the patio, waving at Carmen as I went. At the table next to the wall three women in running clothes sat perusing menus with two mutts lying at their feet. I slid into a seat at the other end of the space next to the rosemary shrub covered with tiny blue flowers. I ran my hand over the greenery and inhaled, then picked up the menu.
Carmen brought a pot of coffee. “Good morning, Robbie.” She poured.
“Thanks, Carmen. How are you?” I gazed up at her. Her braid was messy and her lipstick was on crooked. She usually looked a lot more put together.
She glanced around and used a low voice. “I think a bad guy was casing the joint last night.”
My mouth dropped open at the archaic phrase, but at the same time my insides chilled. “Casing the joint? What do you mean?”
“Somebody rattled our door near midnight, like he was trying to, you know, break in.”
Gah. “Your door in the back?” There went my sunny balance.
“Yeah.” She pulled her mouth down.
“That’s terrible. Did you call the police?”
“Nah. I don’t like police, and we got good locks. Did you hear anything?”
“I didn’t, but I was upstairs. I went out to a movie downtown, got back a few minutes after ten, and went to sleep around eleven.” Or maybe I’d heard something in my sleep, and that was why I’d awoken with a racing heart. “Do you have a security camera for the restaurant?”
She nodded a couple of times, quickly. “Out front, but I haven’t had a chance to look at the pictures yet.”
One of the dog women caught Carmen’s eye.
She held up a “wait” finger to the woman and said to me, “We’re busy this morning. Do you know what you want? I made a spinach-artichoke-egg bake casserole with the hearts of those artichokes you brought.”
“Spinach and artichoke sounds good.”
“It is. I also have a California Benedict special.”
Ooh. “With avocado? Now you’re talking. That’s exactly what I want, thanks. Can I get a little plate of the egg bake, too? I’d love to taste it.”
“Of course. The casserole is good, and those artichokes were outstanding, but the Benedito is one of Mamá’s specialties.” She leaned closer. “She’s got something she wants to tell you, too, but I’ll need to translate. When we get a break, I’ll bring her out.”
I thanked her and she bustled off. What did Luisa have to tell me? And was the lurker my pursuer? The thought sent shivers through me. It meant he—or she—knew where I was staying. Last night I’d been afraid my would-be attacker would follow me here. Now I was afraid they had, but in stealth.
A text buzzed in from Liz, saying she’d love to go to Ceci’s with me and would pick me up at ten. I tapped back my okay and thanks. I snapped a selfie of me in front of the bougainvillea wall, the blooms a lush cloak, and texted it to Abe, saying I missed him and wished he were here. Sipping my coffee, I idly scrolled through Instagram and then my e-mail, but in the background of my thoughts was last night’s would-be intruder. I hoped Carmen’s security cam would reveal who it was, although any bad guy worth his stuff knew to avoid those spying eyes. Maybe I could get the story of why Nacho Average Café’s owner didn’t like police, too.
I set down the phone when Hector emerged onto the patio holding a mug of coffee. I waved him over. “Come for some home cooking that isn’t your own?” I asked. “Please join me.”
“Morning, Robbie. You got that right. When you’re a cook, it’s like a mini-vacation for somebody else to prepare food for you.”
“Which I have totally been soaking up all week. Plus your bosillas, of course. Dude, those were perfection.”
“I’m glad you liked them. I love getting creative.”
“Have you thought about opening a restaurant?” I asked.
“Nah. I told you, I only cook to support my dancing.” The light went out of his eyes. “Paul’s never going to dance again.”
It hit me. How could I have forgotten he’d said they were good friends? “Hector, I’m so sorry. I should have said something as soon as I saw you. You miss him.”
He sniffed and blinked. “I do, more than I even thought. The guy was so full of life. You should have seen him on the dance floor. He had style in spades. And to
