the body as a linebacker, but he was tall and well-built, with maybe a hint of flab starting around the middle. Iâd noticed all that the day Iâd seen him in court. He hadnât come out into the corridor to join the group yelling at Lammy, and there was no reason heâd know my face.
The men returned to their conversation, leaving no one looking my way now except the money counter. I stared back at her. She must finally have decided I wasnât going to turn around and go away. âSorry, mister,â she said, âweâre closed.â
I could have said I was looking for Steve Connolly. I could have said the apple pie looked good and could I have a piece. I could have said any number of sensible things. What I did say was, âSign says coffee shop, doesnât it? Maybe Iâll have a cup of coffee then.â I said it so loud that even someone in the kitchen could have heard.
The three men raised their heads and craned their necks to stare at me. The woman in the red pants gazed down at her crossword puzzle, then flipped her pencil around and erased one of her answers.
âSign also says breakfast and lunch only,â the money counter said. âClosed at two-thirty.â
I dropped one of my business cards on the counter. âI donât want coffee anyway. I have a message to deliver.â I kept my voice up, and my hands out and away from my pockets.
âHey, buddy!â It was Steve Connolly who called out. âShe said sheâs closed.â
Ignoring Connolly, I said, âItâs a message for Mr. Apprezziano.â I didnât know what he looked like, but Apprezziano had to be close to seventy years old, so he wasnât there. âA message to Mr. Apprezziano about one of his flunkies who cut the balls off a dog and left the body at my friendâs house.â I picked up a heavy soup spoon lying on the nearest table and waved it for emphasis. âMy friend loves dogs, so that was a mean, chickenshit thing to do. Stupid, too.â
âHey!â It was Connolly, getting to his feet now, and his friends with him.
I backed up and pulled open the door, very happy that it opened inward. âYou tell Mr. Apprezziano if something like that happens again heâs gonna read about his chickenshit boy in the newspaperâand about himself, too.â
Connolly and company were halfway up the row of tables, but by then I was outside the door. I pulled it shut, flipped the hasp closed over its U-shaped staple, and dropped the handle of the soup spoon down through where the padlock would go.
I donât know just how long it took them to get out of there, but it wasnât before I was around the corner.
CHAPTER
4
F OUR HOURS LATER I was standing in my kitchen, rinsing the remnants of a bowl of chili into the sink, and talking on the phone with Lammyâs lawyer, a very irate Renata Carroway.
âHey, slow down,â I said, as soon as Renata paused for breath. âThatâs a prosecutorâs typical bullshit threat, and you know it.â
âCall it whatever you want, damn it. But the stateâs attorney calls it âwitness intimidation.â Claims heâs got four witnesses whoâll testify that you, acting on behalf of Lambert Fleming, barged into property that was clearly marked âclosed,â refused to leave when asked, then shouted obscenties and threats against Steve and Patricia Connolly if they donât, quote, âleave Fleming alone.â He says if anything like that happens again, heâll charge both you and my client with intimidation ofââ
âI heard you the first time. But who is this stateâs attorney, anyway?â I stuck the bowl in the cupboard over the sink. âSomebody you can halfway trust?â
âAre you kidding? His nameâs Cletus Heffernan, and heâs a full-blown, first-class, certifiableââ
âAsshole?â I tried.
âI was