Not that she was embarrassed by her surroundings. There’d been a time in her life after her mom got sick that places like these kept her family fed. Her heart clenched at the thought she’d never thought to volunteer and give back. What did that say about her?
The woman behind the counter smiled as they approached. “Hungry?”
Logan answered for her. “We’re here to see Jim Cantina.”
“He’s not here, but the assistant manager, Peter, is in the back. Would you like to talk to him instead?”
“No, thanks,” Logan said.
“It’s kind of a personal matter. Do you know where we might could find Mr. Cantina?”
The woman dropped her gaze down Ryley as if trying to decide what type of threats they were. “He’s at the thrift store down the road.”
A man walked out of the backroom carrying more plastic plates. He smiled when he saw them. His dark, wavy hair needed a cut. The red flannel shirt looked like it had lasted through a million washes. The laugh lines around his mouth were deep. “You two here to help? We could always use some potato peelers.”
“Maybe another time,” Logan said, resting his hand on Ryley’s back.
The man’s gaze dropped to the connection, and Peter’s grin grew.
“They’re looking for Mr. Jim.”
“He’s at our thrift shop down the road. With any luck, he’s busy making more money so that we can buy more food so we can keep feeding these folks.”
“Must be hard since one of the contributors died,” Ryley said.
Peter frowned as he set down the stack of plates. “Not just one, but as of late, it seems she was the only monetary contributor. I’m not sure how much longer we’re going to be able to keep our doors open if things don’t pick up.”
“Don’t say that, Peter. Everything will work out.” The woman in the hair net touched his arm.
Peter patted her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. The young woman dropped her hand away when a look of dejection crossed her face.
“Kitty Lynch will most certainly be missed by all of us. She was a kind, gentle soul who never met a stranger,” Peter said.
Shouting behind them had them all turning in the direction. Two men fighting over a dinner roll.
“Now, now, gentleman. There’s more to go around,” Peter called out. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find more rolls and get back to work.”
Peter headed off, and Logan ushered Ryley toward the door. The man in the trench coat was still watching as they neared. He stepped in front of Ryley, blocking her path. “She’s dead, you know, but she still visits.”
“Thank you,” Ryley answered and nodded at him and the ghost next to him. She didn’t even have to ask who he was referring to. These people saw a different side of Kitty than what she’d shown Ryley. Kind soul? Really.
“I told you she’s got the eye,” Trench Coat Man said as she hurried out the front door.
“You seem to make friends everywhere,” Logan said, climbing into the passenger side.
“What can I say, I have a friendly face.”
“Crazy people that talk to themselves think you’re personable. I’m not sure I’d take that as a compliment.”
“He wasn’t talking to himself.” She glanced in his direction. “You just couldn’t see the other half the picture, like hearing half the conversation when someone is on the phone. There was someone answering him and talking back.”
“Great. More ghosts. Maybe you should have asked him who killed Kitty. It might have saved us some time, so I could get back to my real job, the one that pays the bills.”
He had a point. They were getting nowhere fast.
He flipped the file open again. His eyes darted back and forth down the page. “The thrift shop wasn’t part of his routine before.”
“Maybe one of his workers quit.”
“Maybe.” He slapped the file closed and pointed to the sign as she neared the thrift shop.
Ryley parked the car, and they got out and walked inside Hand-Me-Downs. The scent of mothballs stung her nose. Rows and rows of clothes covered the main area. Against one wall was a shelf of used shoes. In the back were knickknacks and other items for the home. In the middle was the register. The place was empty. Not a single soul in sight.
“Maybe he’s taking a break or in the bathroom,” Logan offered and headed up the aisle.
They headed to the register to wait. “So, Logan Bane, PI. Looks like we have a few minutes to kill. Tell me how you got into the PI business and what type of grudge you’re holding against the Crews family.”
Chapter 28
“Have dinner with me, and I’ll share some of my secrets,” he said, shooting a smile in her direction.
He was a good-looking man; dangerous vibe, but still pretty to look at. Would she have to lie about those three questions, or was it possible he already knew the truth?
“I don’t mix business with pleasure.” Her words were a whisper between them, an she wanted to immediately call back.
“We aren’t business, so it would be all pleasure for both of us.” He stepped closer to her side. “But I should warn you not to believe all the rumors you hear.”
“You’re a flirt.” She lifted her gaze up to meet his.
“And you haven’t said yes.”
A man cleared his throat, breaking the connection that was building. The man from the pictures.
“You must be Jim Cantina,” Ryley said.
“I am. How can I help you?” he asked as he approached. His tired red eyes looked as if he needed a day off.
“I’m writing an article on Kitty Lynch,” Ryley lied, earning a raised brow from Logan.
“You are?” Jim asked.
“Apparently, it’s a new development,” Logan added.
“On the secret life of the rich and famous.”
Blood started to drain from Jim’s face.
“I understand she volunteered, serving at the homeless shelter.”
“Ah, right.” Jim nodded and moved to the other side of the register counter. “She did.
