Deserves to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“You know me?” Cade asked.

“Yeah, I do.” Straightening, she pulled her sunglasses from her face.

“You sure? Oh. Jesus! Wait a second.” Cade’s face hardened. “You look like—”

“I know.” She yanked out her dental appliance, the one that changed the shape of her teeth, and the other that plumped her cheeks. As he stared, she next removed her wig, letting down her hair.

“For the love of Christ.” His eyebrows slammed together. “Anne-Marie?”

“In the flesh.” She patted her stomach. “Well, more than just flesh. I’m wearing a little extra, you know, to complete the look.”

“Holy shit.” Dumbstruck, he filled the doorway, a tall, rangy man who was glaring at her as if she were Satan incarnate.

“Can I come in?”

He hesitated.

“It’s important, Cade. You know it is. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

His jaw slid to the side and his gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Okay,” he finally agreed, stepping back and swinging the door wide. “But what the hell’s going on? What’s with the getup?” The dog streaked back into the house and before she could follow, he said, “Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re in a little bit of trouble again.”

“More than a little,” she admitted as he closed the door behind her and she remembered all too vividly what it felt like to kiss this love ’em and leave ’em cowboy. “This time, Cade,” she admitted, “it’s a matter of life and death.”

“You can talk to Teri, she’s the waitress who served her,” Sandi, the owner of Wild Will’s said when Pescoli and Alvarez showed up at the restaurant.

One of the deputies who had helped canvas the area had shown Calypso Pope’s picture to Sandi and she’d remembered one of her last customers from the night before. The detectives were following up, trying to figure out anything they could about the victim.

“I know she’s dead, and I’m sorry, but let me tell you, that woman,” Sandi said, standing at the hostess podium, “was a real pain in the butt. Came in late, almost closing, and didn’t like Grizz.” She pointed to the mascot of the establishment, the huge stuffed grizzly bear that, with the changing holidays, was dressed in appropriate or not-so-appropriate attire, depending on how one viewed it.

Pescoli had seen Grizz wearing an angel costume for Christmas, a red, white, and blue Uncle Sam outfit for Independence Day, and a Pilgrim hat and collar for Thanksgiving. At his place of honor in the vestibule, Grizz currently was dressed as Cupid in honor of Valentine’s Day, his snarl at odds with the cute little sparkling wings strapped to his broad, shaggy back.

“Odd to think she didn’t see the humor,” she said.

“A real sourpuss. Tried to go all organic and vegan, which is fine, but not here. This is Grizzly Falls, Montana, and it’s wild out here.” Sandi, a known animal lover who had three rescue dogs and two cats at last count, was clearly deeply irked. “It’s not as if I killed all these animals, for God’s sake. They came with the place when you-know-who and I originally bought it.” You-know-who was Sandi’s ex-husband; he who could not be named, apparently. They’d been through a bitter divorce and Sandi had ended up with the restaurant, only to make it thrive under her management. “She ended up with her nose in her iPhone—a lot of that going around these days—and ordered just pie and coffee, and left a miserable tip.”

Pescoli asked, “Was she with anyone?”

“Nope. Alone. I saw, you know, ’cause I’m always close. As far as I could tell, she didn’t speak to anyone.”

“We’d like to talk with Teri. Is she here?”

r /> “Just came on an hour ago. You can use the office if you want some privacy.”

Sandi led them into a crowded office with a desk and one chair, files piled to the high ceiling. She cleared off a stack of invoices and then found Teri. Wary, it turned out she was unable to tell them any more than Sandi had. Calypso Pope had arrived close to eleven and left at eleven thirty-two, according to the credit card receipt she’d signed.

“Lousy tipper,” the waitress grumbled, almost as if getting killed served Calypso Pope right for being so cheap. Then she heard herself and straightened as if caught in some nefarious act. “Not that I would wish anyone dead.”

“Was she wearing a ring?” Pescoli asked.

“Oh, yeah, one with major diamonds. But no wedding band. Just like an engagement ring.”

“You noticed there wasn’t a second ring?” Alvarez asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Teri’s head was bopping up and down. “I pay attention. Me and my boyfriend, we’ve been looking at rings ’cause we’re coming up on our one year anniversary, and I think it’s time.”

“How old are you?” Pescoli asked.

“Nineteen.”