1 Death on Eat Street Read Online Free PDF Page A

flipped on the light. The overhead florescent began buzzing loudly, as it always did. “This
is
home. Would you like some coffee?”
    The health department had given me an 89 percent rating once I’d cleaned up the front of the diner, replaced the broken tiles that had been on the floor, and pretty much put in a new bathroom. It still didn’t look like anything that could be open to the public, but it was good enough for me to get started.
    “You know, it’s not really legal for you to live here,” he said.
    “I know.” I put on a pot of coffee. “I’m not telling anyone else that. I hope you’ll keep it to yourself.”
    He sat on one of the refurbished stools at the counter. “I won’t say anything. The police might, if they find out.”
    “I gave up my apartment. I could use my father’s address. He wouldn’t mind.”
    “Your parents are divorced?”
    “For years. Would you like a biscuit?”
    “No, thanks.” He swung around on the barstool. “I still don’t understand why you’re here. Your family is rich. Why not have them buy you a nice restaurant?”
    “No one understands, especially not Tommy Lee.”
    “The boyfriend in the parking lot?”
    “Well, ex-boyfriend. Could you believe that lame story? The only time I even spoke to Betty was when she closed my 401(k). He must really think I’m dense.”
    Miguel smiled. “I’m sure he doesn’t. You caught him with his pants down. He had to think of something to say. That’s what men do.”
    I examined him a little more closely now that we were in bright, albeit annoying, light. He was about six feet tall, a good-looking man—not by Tommy Lee’s standards, but he also didn’t have the personality of a used-car salesman. Miguel seemed very serious, and a little intense.
    Not usually my type.
I reminded myself that he was only my lawyer, not a potential boyfriend.
    I was right about his clothes being old. His tie and shoes were, too. Everything about him seemed as though it had once been first quality, but hadn’t been new in a long time. But his dark brown eyes (I was right) were kind, and a little troubled. Instead of a smooth, well-practiced line of conversation, his words felt carefully thought out.
    “What about
you
?” I asked as I got out cream and sugar. I had to keep everything in the refrigerator to keep the rats out of it. “You were with the DA’s office? What happened?”
    “I’d rather not talk about it. I’m here to handle your case.”
    “I told you about my whole life tonight. I think you could tell me why you left the DA’s office.”
    “You’re kind of snoopy, aren’t you?”
    “Maybe. It’s hard to help people if you don’t know their stories.”
    “I’m not looking for help. You wanted to hire
me
, remember?”
    “That’s true.” I studied the coffee cups for inspiration. I really wanted to know more about him. It was only professional, of course. He was representing me. I should know about his past, right?
    “Consider it an interview.” I was inspired. “How can I hire you if I don’t know more about you?”
    Miguel got to his feet. “I might not be the right man for the job, Zoe. Dirk Gordon would be happy to tell you all about his past, I’m sure.”
    Ollie walked in, glancing back at the scene still going on in the parking lot. “Wow! You’re in it now, young ’un. Good thing I called Miguel. He knows how the DA thinks, seeing as how he was almost in that office.”
    “I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Miguel told him.
    Ollie took a seat. “Of course it will. Zoe needs you. You probably need her, too. I smelled that coffee brewing all the way down at the shelter. Let’s all have a cup. Did Miguel tell you about the big scandal that made him leave the DA’s office?”
    I smiled and put out a third coffee cup. “Not yet. I think he was about to.”
    Miguel sat back down. “I hope you have plenty of coffee.”

FOUR

    “I wouldn’t call it a big scandal,” Miguel said as I