“See, Paco agrees with me.”
“I don’t know, Lucy. This all seems a bit harebrained to me.”
“Last night you said you trusted me. Was that just lip service?”
His eyes flash angrily. “No.”
“Then trust me to find who killed Jefferson Pike. Then, when I find the real killer, you can let the world know who you are because you want to. Not because you’re being forced.”
I dash into the café’s kitchen. “I’m here!”
Jill looks up from the sink and grins at me. “Long night?”
Sarah, who’s manning the counter, pops her head through the pass-through window into the kitchen. “I told you there was no need to rush. We’re handling everything fine between the three of us.”
The three of us?
At the confused look on my face, Sarah nods toward the dining room. “Go take a look. She’s fabulous!”
I walk out to see Betty Jean serving table four near the window. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that says, JUST A MUFFIN LOOKING FOR HER STUD.
“Oh, my … ” Nothing else comes out of my mouth.
Betty Jean is wearing my T-shirt, strutting around the café and chitchatting with customers like it’s something she does every day.
“When I got here this morning, she’d already made the coffee,” says Sarah. “There’s no fresh muffins, but I offered the customers who complained half price off their orders, and everyone seemed happy enough.”
Betty Jean trots over. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” She looks me up and down. “Isn’t that the same thing you had on last night?”
Sarah tries not to laugh.
“Yes, but it’s not what you think,” I say with as much dignity as I can muster. “Thanks for helping out, but I’m here now. You can go upstairs and take a nap.”
“Why? I’m not tired.”
“You don’t mind staying?” Sarah asks Betty Jean. “Because I actually have something I need to do.”
“Go!” Betty Jean waves her off. “I’ve got this.”
She’s got this? What? Betty Jean has been working here all of two hours, and now she’s an expert. But if Sarah has something to do, I don’t want to be the one to keep her from it. It’s too busy this morning to run the café with just Jill and I, so I’m going to have to give in here and let Betty Jean stay.
“Okay,” I relent. “Thanks, Betty Jean. Just try your best.” I take my position behind the counter. Jill puts a completed order up on the pass-through. Betty Jean looks at the ticket, picks up the tray, and delivers it to the correct table. Then she goes around the room offering coffee refills.
“I told you,” Sarah says, following my stunned gaze. “Betty Jean is terrific. Maybe we should think about hiring her a few mornings a week.”
“Do you want to stay in business?”
“I admit, she can be salty sometimes, but I think the customers might actually like it. She’d add a dash of flavor, that’s for sure.”
“We’ll see.”
Sarah hesitates. “You know, Lucy, just because we’ve always done things one way doesn’t mean we can’t change it up every now and then. A successful business stays flexible so it can react to the market.”
Where have I heard this before? I place my brain on overtime, and then it comes to me. It’s the same exact thing Heidi said to me the other day. Weird.
“I heard about this Jefferson Pike person being found dead.” Sarah shudders. “The customers have been talking about it nonstop. Unbelievable, huh? How he was impersonating J.W. Quicksilver. Poor Betty Jean. I can’t imagine how traumatic this has been for her. It was nice of you to let her stay here last night. Speaking of which … what’s going on with you and Will?”
“Not what you think is going on. It’s a long story, and as soon as I can, I’ll tell you everything.”