Zane and Brett sat quietly, their large eyes on Kendrick. He went to them, bending down to give them tight hugs, kissing the tops of their heads, before he made himself turn and leave them.
He heard, before he mounted his motorcycle he’d parked next to the door, Robbie clicking all the locks home and dragging a piece of furniture in front of the door.
Kendrick slung his sword on his back, started the Harley, and rode away north.
* * *
Addie sat with her hands folded in front of her in the interrogation room. Alvarez still hadn’t handcuffed her, but he’d made it clear she’d be restrained if she tried to leave before they were finished.
Alvarez faced her, his partner, whose name was Hickson, beside him. Hickson started a recorder.
“For the record, Ms. Price,” he said. “Let’s go over events one more time. I want to emphasize that you’re simply here so I can ask questions. You haven’t been charged. Now . . . who was in the restaurant?”
Addie swallowed. “No one. The last customers had gone.” She cleared her throat, trying to sound helpful, not worried. “I was locking up, and Jimmy stepped outside for a smoke.” She didn’t like to think about Jimmy, falling in the door, surprised and dead. He hadn’t deserved that. “The shooting started and I hid until they were gone.”
“Hmm.” Alvarez shifted in his seat as though growing comfortable for a long chat. “When we went over the diner, there were four place settings and four glasses at the counter. One set of dishes at a booth. Who were those for?”
Addie wet her lips. “Oh—just regulars. They’d gone. I was locking up, like I said. I hadn’t had time to clear the tables.”
She thought hard about when the guy in the John Deere cap had left—she was positive it had been before Kendrick had arrived. Kendrick had been late. But if John Deere Cap had seen Kendrick on his way . . .
“No one was there,” she repeated.
Alvarez didn’t believe her. Addie read that in his eyes. Hickson didn’t either, but he was remaining deferentially silent, letting Alvarez lead.
Alvarez leaned forward and asked, “What about the pie?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Addie started. “Pie?”
“There were four plates behind the pass, pie boxes open, and a spatula thing for scooping pieces out.”
Addie had forgotten about that. She’d set up plates in the back just before the shooting started. “Oh. That. I was going to serve some customers out front, but they left before I could bring the order.”
“Yeah?” Alvarez looked interested. “Why do you think they did that?”
Addie wet her lips. “How should I know? Maybe they were tired and didn’t want to wait. Maybe they had to go to the bathroom. They didn’t say.”
“Did they pay you?”
“For what?” Addie asked, bewildered. “The pie?”
“For the drinks you’d already served. And for the pie, since they’d obviously ordered it.”
“I don’t remember.” Addie pressed her hands to her face. “I really don’t remember.”
“And what did you do to get that very large tip? You were carrying around five thousand dollars. You know that, right?”
Addie jumped again. Yes, she’d guessed at the amount Kendrick had simply handed her. Which the police now had as well as her purse.
“Who were these last customers?” Alvarez prodded. “What did they look like? You said they were regulars. Do you know any of their names?”
“I . . .” Addie couldn’t think. Which was exactly what Alvarez intended. He’d ask her the same questions over and over until she couldn’t remember what she’d told him and blurt out the truth when she couldn’t hold it in any longer.