Chapter 74
APRIL
Iopened the coffee shop at five a.m. on Monday morning.
I was so over this fucking job, but it was still too early to quit. The last thing I wanted to look like was a lazy widower. The LAPD was on my side. There was no reason to give them ammunition, and quitting my job and relying on David’s money would have done just that.
At a few minutes after five, an ugly man walked into the shop. There was no other way to describe him. He looked like a damn rat. A sixty-something-year-old rat.
“What can I get you?” I asked, disinterested. I had to keep working for now, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. Service with a smile was not a requirement at April’s Coffee Shop, at least not from me. And I certainly didn’t enjoy looking at the human across from me.
“It’s not about what you can get me, it’s about what you’re going to give me,” he said.
“Excuse me.”
I looked at him a little more closely. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t place it.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?”
I racked my brain. Nothing came. I thought I smelled booze on him.
“I’ll give you a hint. You only saw me about three or four times, and each time, you had your face somewhat covered as you scurried by me.”
Holy. Shit.
It was the guy who manned the front desk at Hotel Pico. This was bad. Very bad. I saw no reason to play dumb.
“Yeah, now I remember. How can I help you?”
He turned around to make sure no one was in the coffee shop.
“I’m Harry Shoe.”
The name fit him to a tee. The guy looked like he smelled like a damn shoe.
“I’m April.”
“About two weeks ago, I was watching TV when I saw your beautiful face on the television. Can you guess why?”
I hated this guy calling me beautiful, but I had to sit there and take whatever he gave. The one thing I couldn’t have—obviously!—was him going to the cops.
“Why?”
“Because your poor husband had been killed. I felt so bad for you. A young wife, losing her husband. And I remember thinking that your husband looked way different in person.”
He laughed. Harry Shoe was enamored with his own cleverness.
“And then I thought some more,” he said. “Maybe that guy I saw at Hotel Pico who paid in cash wasn’t your husband at all. Well, technically, they both paid me money, but I digress.”
What was he saying? Had he met David, too? Is that why David was so confident I’d had an affair?
“Ask me what I did?” Harry said.
“What did you do?”
“I did nothing. You see, I try to stay out of people’s personal lives. Our hotel likes it when we turn a blind eye, and I’m the same in my personal life. But then something happened yesterday that changed everything. Why don’t you ask me what happened?”
This guy was infuriating, but I kept playing along.
“What happened?”
“I saw your friend’s face on the TV as well.
Apparently, he’d been shot and killed. You know, April, I don’t often believe in coincidences, but this one is truly a whopper.
Even I couldn’t dismiss it. What do you think the LAPD would say if I told them that I used to see David Devers’s wife and Eddie Sykes together?
I think they’d be pretty interested, especially since both men recently met tragic demises.
Or, maybe I’m way off, and the LAPD would laugh me out of the building. Well, what do you think?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with either of their deaths,” I said, trying my best to sound believable.
“Okay, great. Then you’ll have nothing to worry about when I go to the LAPD.”
It almost took more energy than I could muster, but I managed to smile.
“Okay, Harry. What exactly are you looking for? As I said, I didn’t have anything to do with this. I’m just curious what you’re looking to gain. Maybe we can reach some sort of agreement.”
“I’m not a dummy. I know if you start writing really big checks, the police will find out.
So I’m okay with taking this slow. How about I come back at the same time on Friday?
I’d like $5,000 in cash to start. And then we can go from there.
And in the meantime, I will keep my mouth shut about what I know. The LAPD will be none the wiser.”
I was in no position to wrangle with the guy in front of me. And he knew it.
“For a third time, I’m going to declare that I had nothing to do with their murders, but I guess I’ll see you on Friday,” I said.
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
And with that, a rat scurried out of my coffee shop.
A rat that I was eventually going to have to exterminate.