Waffles at the Wake (Murder in the Mix #29) - Addison Moore Page 0,64
say in unison.
“Sorry, Carlotta.” Everett shakes his head. “We’re not dragging anyone else into this. If they get suspicious, they might just do a little digging, if you know what I mean.”
Noah’s chest bounces with a silent laugh. “You’d better do what he says, Carlotta, or he’ll hold you in contempt.”
She leans toward Everett. “Promise?”
Meg comes back. “I found him, Lot. He’s near the front. He just ordered up a beer,” she says as she waves to the bartender, and a cold frothy brew is quickly slid her way. “Why don’t you take it to him? And since you’ll be in view, your muscle men can keep an eye on you from a safe distance.”
“Ooh, sounds good.” I zip off before any one of my muscle men can stop me, and Carlotta is right on my feathered tail.
I haven’t seen Rocky since the day of the murder, not that I knew who he was that day, but I remember his greasy blond hair, his puffed up chest, and that look he gave Flo while she was still living. It wasn’t a good one, but I’m not sure it was a look that could kill either. They were just having an intense conversation.
But I don’t need to worry about identifying the right man in this dizzying low lighting because a pink spray of stars just popped up to my left as Florenza Canelli floats my way looking giddy as a schoolgirl in her pink dress, matching glossy pink lips, and let’s not leave that crunchy curly hair out of the equation. She has on enough gel and hairspray to create a fire hazard, or at least she would if she were living.
“He’s here!” she stretches that last word out with a ghostly warble.
“Flo,” I whisper as she comes in close. “You were arguing the last time the two of you were together. Wanna fill me in on why that would be before I grill him?”
She scowls my way. “Let’s see if you’re good enough to pull it out of him.” A maniacal smile swims on her lips.
“Oh, I am. And do you know what else I’m really good at? Making you keep your end of the bargain. You owe me some info regarding that turf war.”
“Would you shush?” She presses her finger to her lips as she gives a quick look around. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know as soon as you shake down Rocky. I need to know if he’s the rat’s behind that did me in.” Her lips invert as she looks his way with a pained expression. “He just can’t be.” She floats over to him, and I follow behind, setting the beer right on his table.
Rocky is a blond, beefy man who might just be wearing the very same pinstripe suit he had on the night Flo was killed. Who are we kidding? He’s a mobster. He’s probably got a closet full of them.
And planted right in front of him is the biggest platter of nachos I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Look at that food, Lot.” Carlotta bumps her arm to mine. “You grill him, and I’ll chow down on the nachos.”
A dull moan comes from me as I take in the ooey gooey cheesy goodness. Red Satin doesn’t do a lot of things right, but its nachos are not only well renowned, they might as well be five-star.
“Thanks, ladies.” Rocky tips his beer our way. “Hey, you’re looking pretty hungry, little mama.”
“Oh, I am.” My hands cup my belly. “I just realized I haven’t eaten dinner yet.” I choose not to tell him about the half dozen fried pickles I wolfed down in the van on the way over. Of course, I shared with Everett. I’m not evil. Besides, those were just an appetizer. Or more to the point, the appetizer to hold me off until I hit the real appetizer of the evening—a platter of nachos from Red Satin.
Flo squawks out a laugh. “Look at you go, Lottie Lemon. Turns out, you’re just about as good as getting a man to do your bidding as I am.” She floats over and takes a seat next to him. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
More like schemey. He’s a mobster, I want to point out, but I suppose it would be a moot point to Flo.
His eyes close a moment as if conceding. “Well, don’t just stand there. Take a load off. Go on and have at the nachos.”
Flo slaps her hands together and whoops, and suddenly I