Wicked Appetite (Lizzy and Diesel 1)

“I know I should be happy for her, but she was my best customer,” Clara said. “I need twenty new customers to make up for the loss of all those cupcakes.”

Diesel strolled through the front door of the bakery precisely at noon. I was transferring the last of the lunch pies into the refrigerated display case, and Glo was waiting on two women. The women turned and stared at Diesel, and one gave the other a nudge with her elbow.

Diesel looked like he was used to the stares and nudges. He stood just inside the door, thumbs stuck into his jeans pockets, not smiling, not frowning. Waiting.

“Be with you in a minute,” I told him.

I changed out of my chef jacket, grabbed my sweatshirt, tote bag, a couple bottles of water, and a box of meat pies, and I returned to the front of the shop. I smiled at the ladies and waved at Glo.

Diesel put his hand to the small of my back and ushered me out the door. “That box smells like lunch.”

“We had some meat pies that weren’t pretty enough to sell, but were still okay to eat.”

“How’s your appetite?”

“Back to normal. And Shirley canceled her cupcake order. Apparently, everything gets back to normal pretty quickly once the charm is removed.”

Diesel was parked at the curb in front of the bakery. We both got into the Cayenne, and I noticed Carl was buckled into the backseat. Carl gave me a little finger wave and the scary-monkey smile.

“What’s going on with the find-a-home-for-Carl program?” Diesel asked.

I gave a meat pie to Diesel and one to Carl, and I took one for myself. “Glo’s trying, but it doesn’t look hopeful.”

“No surprise,” Diesel said.

“Eep!” from the backseat.

“I hate hearing Eep,” Diesel said, checking Carl out in the rearview mirror. “Eep is never good.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw that Carl had meat pie all down the front of him and was carefully picking it out of his monkey fur with his little monkey fingers.

“No problem,” I said to Diesel. “He’s grooming.”

Twenty minutes later, we were in Beverly looking for Mark More’s apartment. We were close to the warehouse, in an area that was a mix of commercial and residential properties. There were small businesses at the sidewalk level on More’s street and apartments above. According to Gwen, More lived in one of those second-floor apartments.

“There,” I said to Diesel. “Number 29. He’s in the apartment above the dry cleaner.”

Diesel parked half a block away and locked Carl in the car. We took four steps, and Carl banged on the window.

“I think he wants to go with us,” I told Diesel.

Diesel turned and looked at Carl, and Carl shrunk back into his seat, hands in lap. We took four more steps, and Carl blasted us with the horn.

Beep, beep, beep!

“Jeez Louise,” I said to Diesel. “He’s going to have the entire neighborhood out on the sidewalk, and we’ll get charged with animal cruelty.”

Diesel walked back to the car, opened the door, and Carl bounced out.

“Behave yourself,” Diesel said to Carl.

Carl nodded his head and did the monkey smile. When Diesel turned his back to walk away, Carl gave him the finger.

“This isn’t a normal monkey,” I said to Diesel.

“Tell me about it.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN