Barbecue, Bourbon and Bullets Page 5

  I stopped and waited to see if the detective would follow my stream of thought.

  He did. After a few seconds, one side of his mouth quirked up into a half-grin. “And who here could turn an everyday kitchen tool into a deadly weapon?”

  “Grover's favorite fix-it man and chef,” I responded.

  Greg.

  Noise from the street went up a decibel as the front door opened. Two more uniformed officers entered, followed by some others dressed in plain clothes. A cheer went up from balding guy and burned-out mom; they were good and sauced by this point, though.

  “Cavalry is here,” Avery said, grabbing a napkin off a nearby table, “You're gonna get me fired. But I got take a look before they kick me off this.” He made a beeline to the dishwasher.

  Rookie was already pointing toward the kitchen, filling in the new arrivals. Avery better hurry. I turned my full attention to him. He was by the tray but hadn't picked up what I suspected was a jimmy-rigged weapon.

  “Hurry up so I can see it too!” I said in a harsh whisper, still hovering by the doors.

  He leaned over and examined the tray. I checked over my shoulder. One of the plainclothes cops shook hands with Alma and our suspected murderer. The other was sidling through the tables making her way over.

  As I thought more on it, some questions nagged in the back of my mind. Greg hadn’t been anywhere near the back of the kitchen at the time of the shooting. How had he gotten the homemade nozzle-slash-gun barrel into the dishwasher so fast? Especially when a NYPD cop had unexpectedly shown up so quickly?

  In fact, according to the Grover’s employees, Debbie had been the closest to the dishwasher. She was in the walk-in freezer getting our desserts. I looked at that part of the kitchen. The freezer was opposite the dishwasher, but a good twenty feet away.

  I turned back to Avery, thinking I should wave him down. At this point he wasn't going to have time to give me a close-up look at the thing anyway. But to my glee, he had finally picked it up. Pinched between the folds of the white napkin, he rotated it, peering down one end.

  He turned to me, and the smile on his face was so big, I knew I'd been right. Yes! But then his eyes strayed behind me. The smile dimmed then dropped like a rock in water.

  Behind me. I'd just started to look but a strong arm encircled my waist. Another arm shot under my chin. Something hard pierced the tender skin of my neck.

  Fear and a rush of adrenaline made it hard to breath. I gobbled in a huge breath feeling starved for oxygen. And a second too late, it became clear who'd killed Rick. It was the only person who'd lied about their whereabouts when the shooting happened.

  “Do what I say and I'll let you go when we get outside,” a man whispered in my ear. Connor. It was Connor.

  Avery barked in a tone that betrayed his words. “Hey! Hey kid, let's be calm.”

  Connor, in a voice that was indeed very calm, said, “You, lady cop, back off. I will cut her.”

  The plainclothes officer, a tall woman, froze in place with a hand under her blazer.

  “Did you hear me?” Connor prompted, “Go sit down in that booth over there.”

  She held both of her hands up and backed off. “Listen, there's no need for anyone to get hurt.”

  “I agree. That's why I want you to sit over there out of the way. Sit! You cops by the door, move to the side. Now!” Connor twisted, bringing me with him. We were angled so it was easy to eye the kitchen and dining room.

  “And you in there, don't take another step or your girlfriend here is gonna get sliced.”

  In the kitchen, Avery was a foot closer than he'd been a second before. He still held the nozzle in the napkin.

  Avery called out. “Connor, listen, why are you doing this?”

  “I'm doing it because you found it. I was trying to stay cool, but I knew the second you came back in here, you'd put it together. I was gonna sneak out, but your stupid cop buddies finally decided to come.” He cussed under his breath so only I could hear. The man was plastered against me, so much I could feel him trembling.

  “Connor—” I started.

  “—you stay quiet. Move how I move.” He pulled at my waist and we took a step back.

  “I better not see any guns out!” Connor hollered.

  Avery waved to get his attention. “Connor, Connor, wait. Look at me, buddy. If Greg forced you to do something, we'll understand.”

  The younger man scoffed. “Greg is an overbearing idiot. And a suck-up. Rick pushed him around and he took it cuz Rick was the majority partner. If this place went under, Rick would be OK cuz Alma comes from money. But Greg, this was the end of the road for him.”

  “Even more reason for Greg to manipulate you into killing Rick.”

  “Greg,” he spit out the name, “was too busy sucking up to Rick and ogling Alma to even think about manipulating me. Or even to pay attention to the one person he should've been paying attention to.”

  I whispered it without thinking. “Debbie”

  The arm around my waist tightened. “Yeah, her,” Connor confirmed.

  “I noticed how you kept looking at her.” I tried to ignore the sharp pinch at my neck.

  “Debbie, I can see that. She's real cute.” Avery made a show of putting the nozzle down on a nearby table. “I've done silly things over a woman too. There's no need to make this worse.”

  Connor pulled me back another step. “Yeah, well this one never noticed me. Never. She was all into Greg and I thought...” He paused and took in a deep breath.

  “You thought that if Greg was out of the way, she'd be able to see you.” Avery took a small step forward.

  “No, I wasn't going to kill anyone. I just wanted to hurt him a little bit, you know? Nothing too bad.”

  “Of course, of course. Then when he was gone for a couple of days, she might notice you. I get it, buddy. Listen, why don't you put the knife down and you can tell me the whole story?”

  Connor roared, “WHY ARE YOU MOVING? EVERYBODY BE STILL! HANDS UP!” He jerked around, bringing me with him. The knife bit through my skin. I muffled a shriek.

  “Connor, it would be smart to let me go,” I said as gently as I could.

  But he was ignoring me, doing double time trying to keep all of the cops in view. “We're leaving. This is all your fault.” He pointed the knife at Avery. “I had it all planned, but you came in ordering everybody around in that stupid cop voice. I only had time to throw that valve I'd made into the washer. I didn't mean to kill nobody. Debbie was right there by the walk-in fridge watchin', she knows I wasn't trying to kill anyone. That should count for something right? Right?”

  His voice ratcheted up a few notches from steady to frantic. He put the steak knife back at my throat.

  The woman detective was near a booth but had not sat down. “Yes, that counts. But let's think this through—”

  “—there's nothing to think through! Get out of my way and I'll let her go when I'm outside. Everyone get on the wall or into a booth. Everyone, right now! Push those tables out of the way, I want a clear path out! Do it now!”

  The new parents jumped right up and into a booth along the wall. The woman detective slowly began to push tables around to make a pathway to the front door. I noticed the other newly arrived officers moved to one side of the dining room where Connor had directed.

  Debbie, Greg and Alma huddled together like scared children. The latter two had their arms wrapped around each other.

  “Faster, move 'em out the way faster! You, baby cop, help her get the table out of the way.”

  Rookie's mouth twisted. I don’t think he liked the baby cop comment but did as commanded.

  Connor's chest was firmly pressed against my back. So much so I could feel his heart pounding. My pulse beat like a terrified jack-rabbit's against the steel of his blade.

  The two officers finished clearing out a decent passageway through the restaurant.

  “Good. That's good. Now, everybody get back. Back! Me and her are gonna walk
out nice and easy! OK? Nice and easy and she won't get hurt.”

  All of the cops lined up in a row. Their faces were hard and unpleasant. A thought made my legs tremble. They weren't going to let Connor go, much less allow him to get outside those doors. I wasn't sure if they would be more set on catching a criminal or saving my life. At this very moment, people were protesting accidental deaths at the hands of the NYPD. What if I got in the way when they went for Connor?

  As if he heard what I was thinking, Avery called out. “Ali, everything is going to be OK? Just pay attention and stay calm.”

  I rolled my eyes over at him. His arms were spread wide. “Pay attention, OK?”

  Was he giving me a clue? Didn't matter, time was up. Connor jerked me forward. He jabbed the blade in deep just below my jawline and thrust his face next to mine. The stubble on his chin made my skin itch. I pulled away reflectively and he dug the knife in just enough to break the skin. A hot trickle ran down my neck.

  “Don't do that again. Behave. In thirty seconds your part in this will be over. Understand?” His breath was sticky-sweet.

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” His face pressed against mine, we side-stepped through the cleared but narrow path of tables. The entire time he used my body as a shield. Every eye in the place followed us.

  I could feel Connor swivel his head back and forth working to keep everyone in view. But once we'd taken five steps, the sight-line of the kitchen was obscured.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Avery step out of the kitchen.

  My captor caught the movement too. “You stay right there by them doors! Hear me?”

  Connor yanked at my waist and I tripped over his feet. Connor was fast, he righted me before momentum sent me to the floor. But it was enough to send him off balance. We both lurched backwards into a jumble of tables sending uncollected silverware and dirty dishes sliding.

  I braced for a fall as my wrist cracked against a table's edge. My fingers brushed against something and I grasped at it.

  It was only a second's worth of a stumble but the cops took advantage. When we righted, all of them had their hands by their waists. The other plainclothes officer had his gun halfway drawn.

  Connor ducked behind me. “Backs to the wall! I WANT TO SEE YOUR HANDS! HANDS UP!”

  The cops cussed aloud but did as commanded.

  “Let's go,” Connor said, lips at my ear.

  The knife dug into my throat. “Connor, please.” I gently put a hand against the arm that was slowly cutting off my air supply. “I can't breathe, I'll pass out before we get to the door.”

  He loosened his grip. It was just enough. With a grunt of defiance, I jabbed the fork I'd picked up when we stumbled into the meat of his thigh. Connor shrieked. I shoved his arm away before dropping to the floor like a dead body.

  “No!” Connor roared as I slipped his grip.

  I don't know what happened next exactly. I fell flat against the wood floorboards. Someone leapt over my head. I ducked a rush of pants legs and black shoes. A huge crash sent tables to scattering. The floor trembled. It was a cacophony of bodies, sound and motion.

  “Don't move! Don't move! It's over!”

  More scuffling. It didn't sound over to me. I belly-crawled a few feet away until I thought I was far enough from the melee.

  When I glanced up, there was a pile of bodies. At first it looked like all the cops had just clamored on top of Connor, like a football pileup. But no, there were two straddling the dishwasher's torso, one across each leg and another pinning his arms.

  Connor was still bucking despite all the weight. “Ask Debbie, ask her! I didn't mean to kill nobody!”

  Debbie’s back was plastered against the wall. She watched with big, wide eyes. Her head rotated slowly from side to side as if saying, no, no, no, over and over. “I gotta go home now,” she said, peeling off from the wall.

  “No way. Sit down.” Rookie cop blocked the front door. He took her by the arm and deposited her in a booth.

  Connor's fight left him all at once. He seemed to deflate under the weight of the bodies. The cops slowly rose and when the dishwasher didn't resist, the woman detective locked a pair of plastic loops over his wrists.

  Avery had been one of the two straddling Connor's back. I found this surprising since I'd last seen across the room by the kitchen.

  He rushed over. “You OK?” His eyes were all buggy with concern.

  I peered up into the grey-blue eyes and said the only thing that came to mind.

  “Do you know how to show a girl a good time or what?”

  ***

  The sun was peeking over the East river by the time we made it back to my home. It was a multi-family brownstone my mother and I shared in Five Points, Manhattan.

  “Wow, you live in a historical landmark?” Avery said, taking the building in. “It must be worth a fortune.”

  I climbed up on the bottom step. “It's been in my mom's family for ages. My great-great grandfather bought the property when this was a dangerous section of the city. He used to see patients right there in the living room.”

  “Mmm.” Avery touched my neck. “Are you sure you are OK? The hospital is still a good idea.”

  I gently pulled his hand away. “It was a nick. I'm fine.”

  “I can't apologize enough about tonight.”

  “It wasn't your fault,” I said for the hundredth time. “Like you knew homicide was on the menu? I would say it was a fun first date, if it had been a date. Do you think they'll charge Debbie too?”

  When everything had calmed down, a defeated Connor had confessed. He had rigged the attachment we'd found to work with the air pneumatic system. Load ammo into the nozzle, hook it up to a hose, and when you turn the air flow on—bam—instant homemade pistol. It was a deadly and almost silent weapon. As Greg, Alma and Rick talked business, he hooked up his weapon to the hose used for the dishwasher. Debbie, who'd been sent to the walk-in fridge, happened to catch him in the act. She’d watched him aim and fire.

  Avery said, “I'd say it's a strong possibility. It'll be hard to prove she knew Connor was going to kill Rick.”

  “I think Connor was surprised. Especially since he was aiming for Greg.”

  “Ali, he was using hunting-quality slingshot rounds. The same size that are used to kill small animals. Maybe he didn't think they'd be lethal, but he intended on bringing the pain. It was a bit of a fluke it hit Rick just the right way to kill him but that system Grover's used was compressed air. Some police departments use non-lethal riot suppression weapons that work on the same concept.” He scoffed. “Connor still had the ammo package in his apron. He planned on reloading.”

  I said, “But if he had hurt Greg, then what? They would've figured out someone in that kitchen had intentionally shot him, right?”

  “The lead detective, the woman, asked him the same thing and Connor just gave her a blank look. I don't think he'd thought it through that far.”

  It was a sad story about the loner who had fallen for the pretty girl. Too bad the girl was also self-centered and obsessed with another man. Debbie had admitted to knowing Connor had a thing for her. When she’d caught him in the act, she assumed he was aiming for Greg. And that had been just fine for the jealous waitress.

  I touched the tender spot on my neck. It didn’t hurt. “When I was talking to Connor, he had said when Rick was shot, he was walking from the grill to put spatulas in the dishwasher. I had seen clean spatulas in the dish rack when you called me over. If I had realized that earlier, I may have put together how his story didn’t match up with Debbie’s and Greg’s sooner.”

  “If you had more time, you would have. We pushed Connor into action when he thought he would get caught,” Avery said.

  To my surprise, my belly was letting my brain know it was empty. “Hey, I’m actually getting hungry. I have some of my cinna-mini-rolls in the fridge. Want some with some coffee? Decaf if you're going to bed?”

  Avery smiled. “I do but
I can't. I have to go down to the precinct and give my official recap of the night. Rain-check?”

  “OK.” I attempted not to show my disappointment.

  “Oh, and it wasn't.”

  “Wasn't what?”

  He said, “It wasn't a first date.”

  My heart flopped. Wow. He really felt the need to make it clear I wasn't date material?

  “No, it was more like hanging out.” He took my hand. “I would like a first date, however. How about next Friday?”

  Be cool, Ali. Be cool. “Sounds good.”

  “It's a date, then.” He flashed a smile so bright, I wanted to do a little happy dance. We confirmed our cell numbers hadn't changed since the Chakiris case.

  We said our goodbyes and he turned to leave, but paused. “I almost forgot to say it. Good morning, Ali Daniels.”

  “Good morning, Detective Hamilton.”

  With a wave, he headed up the block. I watched him walk away for a bit, then felt awkward watching him walk away.

  I headed up the steps, digging around my purse for my keys. As I unlocked the front door I thought, yes, it was a good morning.

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  Sweet and Salty Treachery (HoneyBun Shop Mysteries Book 1)

  Murder, Mayhem and Cupcakes!

  Ali Daniels wants nothing more than to bake sweet goodies for customers in her Manhattan bakery. When she gets an invite for a chance to cater the hottest event in NYC, she can't resist.