Shapiro
After yesterday, I promised Penny I wouldn’t leave. I scared the hell out of her and I need to take the time to show her it’s going to be okay. That we’re okay.
I made last night as normal as possible by ordering dinner from the club and opting to veg out and finish up the last couple episodes of Grey’s.
Penny had questions, but I didn’t have the answers. At least not yet.
Looking down at my new phone. The one I promised her I would get as soon as I walked out of the door this morning, I notice the time.
Shit!
I’m running behind.
After Penny fell asleep last night, I dug out the card Jake gave me and used Penny’s phone to call Jordan, Jake’s brother, and filled him in on everything that is happening. Given the situation, he put a few guys on it trying to get some answers sooner than later.
I thought maybe in a couple days we would have some sort of lead on the case, but I never expected a message bright and early this morning, asking me to meet him downstairs, at two o’clock sharp. He said he would have all the answers that I have been searching weeks for.
But I’m running late because everyone and their brother decided to upgrade their phones this morning. Two fucking hours I spent at the cellular store. Two!
I fire off a quick text to Penny, letting her know I’m back.
Me: I have a meeting downstairs. See you soon.
Penny: See you soon!
Pulling in the back alley, I fling the SUV into park, and jog through the backdoor. Noting it is standing wide open from one of the busboys taking a smoke break. It’s something the bastard has gotten in trouble for time and time again, but I don’t have the time to rat his ass out at this very moment.
Dashing through the dining room, I see Jordan chatting it up with one of the new hostesses.
“Hey, Shapiro, can I get a hand?” Cindy hollers from behind the bar. “I’m having trouble changing this keg out.”
“Can it wait? I have meeting I’m late for.” My eyes dart over to Jordan who waves me on and continues to talk to the new girl. “Well, looks like I’m now available.”
“Awesome, but first can you open this freakishly large jar of cherries?” Cindy bends down and lifts the gallon jar onto the bar.
Setting my phone down, I take a wet rag and twist it open without a problem.
“Whatever.” Cindy shakes her head. “I totally loosened that up.
“Sure.” I hand the cherries back to her. “Which tap?”
“The new local pale ale. It’s selling like crazy.”
“All right, give me a minute.” I glance back at Jordan, who obviously doesn’t have a problem with me finishing this up.
Running back to the beer cooler, I search for keg that is waiting to be changed. Unhooking the coupler, I pull the handle out and up without a problem. Funny, I don’t seem to have a problem. Twisting and lifting, I replace the keg then line up the coupler, pull the handle out and back down. Bam!
“Did you get it?” Cindy comes in the cooler and begins to change another one out. This time without a problem.
“Yeah, it didn’t give me any problems.” I stand, wiping my hands on a towel hanging from one of the shelves.
“Whatever, first the cherries and now the keg. I swear, I’m not totally helpless.”
“Uh-huh.” I flash her a smile before I head out. I’ve kept Jordan waiting long enough.
Working my way through the back, I weave my way through the dining room and see Jordan back at the table flipping through some papers.
“Hey, Jordan, sorry to keep you.”
Jordan drops the papers and stands, hand out for me to shake. “Seriously, not a problem.” His gaze travels back to the blonde he was chatting up earlier. “Good to see you, man,” he says as he clasps me on the back.
“You too.”
Pulling out a chair I take a seat and Jordan follows.
Leaning over the table I clasp my hands together. “I don’t want to be a dick here, but can we cut to the chase. I need to know what’s going on.”
“We have a couple things.” He reaches into his file and pulls out a few traffic camera stills. “You have a right to be concerned as to where this Tyler Bradford is concerned. He was standing on the other side of the street, watching Penny, just as she thought.”
He then passes me another paper of signature comparisons.
“Even though he was the one on the street that day. The waitress couldn’t remember exactly what he looked like because he passed it to her during the rush.”
“What about Spotlight’s footage? Did we get a clear shot?” I question.
“Oh, the shot was clear.” Jordan smirks. “I made sure when I installed this system, it was state of the art and would hit every hidden angle in this building.”
“Okay, then why can’t we tell if it’s him?” I can’t help but be confused. If he says this place is covered then we should have something to compare to the traffic cam.
“He was wearing a hoodie. Face wasn’t visible.”
“He could have ditched it on his way out,” I suggest.
“Maybe. Can’t really tell.”
“The notes.” I scan the paper. “These samples don’t match up.”
“They don’t,” Jordan agrees. “But that doesn’t mean anything either. He could have had someone else write them to throw us off.”
“What does this mean, Jordan? Did I fucking waste my time with this? Is Tyler Bradford going to silently harass us from afar?”
If that’s the case, we will have to run. I can’t keep putting Penny through this. We have the money and the bakery she can open anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here. Hell, maybe we’ll go back to New York.
“I know these aren’t the answers you wanted, but I think I may have something else you will find interesting.”
I don’t need interesting. I need answers.
“What do you know about a Marcus Mannard?
When he says his name all the air rushes from my lungs. It’s as if I have been sucker punched and it’s taking me a minute to get back up.
“What did you say?”
“Marcus Manna—”
“I heard what you said,” I interrupt. “What about him.”
“He’s out of prison.”