didn’t want to downplay the event, but maybe the girl just needed some space. “It must be hard going from being on your own to living with the town sheriff and his wife.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Just to be safe, I’m going to drive around River Vista and see if I can see her. If you hear from her, call me, okay?”
“I will.” She hung up the phone and, using voice command, dialed Hope. She got her voice mail. “Hey, Hope, this is Angie. We’re looking for Bleak. If you’ve seen her, call me and let me know she’s all right, okay? She has a lot of people worried about her.”
She hung up, and the music came back on. But this time, she didn’t feel like a dance party. She touched the crystal that hung in her car, the one that Nona had hung in her own car for as long as Angie could remember. “Be safe. Be smart. Come home.”
She considered canceling her coffee date with Tara, but thought it might be better to keep busy. Bleak would show up sooner or later. Angie was almost 99 percent sure she was talking to Hope. Their connection had been strong last night, and the girl needed support from someone she could trust.
She pulled into the parking lot of the library. It had been opened in a converted house that now held room after room of comfortable seating and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It was the perfect place to settle in with coffee and a bakery treat, either with friends or alone. Today she’d be talking to someone who might just be a killer. But at least the coffee would be good.
Tara was already in the shop when Angie walked inside. She stood at the counter, laughing with the barista, while he made her something foamy with whipped cream on the top.
“Hey, Angie.” Chris, the barista, smiled. “The usual?”
“Works for me. Tara, thanks for meeting me halfway.” She waited for Chris to finish and paid him for the overpriced mocha that she loved. “Let’s go sit in the living room. It’s so comfortable.”
“I love this little shop, but I never have a good reason to drive all the way out here. Maybe we should make this a monthly excuse.” Tara sat on the overstuffed couch while Angie chose a small upholstered chair nearby.
“Sounds great.” But Angie wondered if Tara would really want to talk again after she asked her some rather pointed questions. “How’s the restaurant?”
“You mean between now and Monday?” Tara sipped her coffee, watching Angie carefully. “Tell me you’re not here because that sheriff thinks I’m a killer.”
“Sheriff Brown didn’t send me to talk to you. But someone else did. They said that your business is in trouble.” Angie wiped her lip after taking a drink of the mocha. She didn’t want a foam mustache to upstage the message she was trying to send. “So, how’s business?”
“If it’s any of your business, we’ve run into a little trouble making ends meet. One of our regular customers for the catering part of the business went into bankruptcy, after holding two large events at our place. It’s not fair, but what can you do?” Tara set her coffee down on the table. “Who told you? If it was that weasel Miquel, I’m going to shake him silly.”
“I’m not at liberty to say, but if it’s all innocent, why not just tell whoever interviewed you about Chef Nubbins’s death?”
“And let the world know we’re hanging on by a thread? People don’t make reservations for large events in the future if they don’t think you’re going to be in business. I’ve got three wedding accounts considering using us for their reception. If we get the contract, it will more than cover what we lost.” She leaned back. “Did you disclose all your financial records when they interviewed you? It didn’t seem that important. Do I want to win the contest? Heck, yeah, but I have plans so if we don’t, we’ll still be all right. Even if I have to take a second job to keep the place afloat.”
“You’re determined.” Angie nodded. “I get it. Believe me, we’ve had our own challenges in running the County