1 Death on Eat Street Read Online Free PDF Page B

the countertop when they were gone, taking in big gulps of air. I think I’d been holding my breath the whole time.
    It was almost three A.M. , according to the big, biscuit-shaped clock on the wall. I’d managed to find it at a local thrift store. It didn’t keep time very well, but it was cute and went with my theme.
    “You okay, Zoe?” Ollie asked.
    “I’m fine.” I didn’t raise my head. “I need some sleep, and my food truck.”
    “That’s not going to happen today.” Miguel was apologetic but certain. “Get some rest. We’ll get together in a few hours before we go to the station. We need to go over your statement again.”
    “Okay.” I raised my head. “I suppose I can stay home tomorrow. How long do you think it will take to get the Biscuit Bowl back?”
    Ollie laughed as the tow truck pulled my food truck out of the parking lot. “You have a terrible funny bone, girl. You’ll be lucky to get that back in time for Mardi Gras, next year.”
    “It won’t be that bad,” Miguel said. “But it will be a while before the crime scene people are done with it.”
    “Thanks. How much do I owe you? There must be a retainer or something?” I asked him.
    “We’ll talk about that tomorrow, too. Try not to worry. We’ll get this straightened out.” He looked around the shabby diner. “You really
live
here?”
    “No.” Was that a test? “You said to say that I live with my father.”
    “
Really
. Do you live here?”
    “Yes. I have a cozy spot in the office. Crème Brûlée and I are fine here.”
    “Crème . . . what?”
    Ollie laughed as he walked to the door. “It’s her cat, man. You know how single chicks dig cats. Good night, Zoe. Good luck tomorrow.”
    “Thanks, Ollie.”
    “And don’t worry about rats bothering you. I took a few of them out with my sword. They’re not coming back for a while. Rats are smart animals. They know when they’re outclassed.”
    When Ollie was gone, Miguel left me his business card. “I guess I’ll be going, too. Try to get some sleep. I’ll be here to pick you up at seven. Call me if you need anything.”
    I wanted to say thank you. It would’ve been polite. I was too far gone for politeness. I nodded and he left. I locked the diner door behind him, and turned off the buzzing overhead light.
    Crème Brûlée was already asleep on my makeshift bed, hogging up the whole thing as usual. I moved him over a little to make room for myself. He hissed and rolled anyway. I fell down on the bed without even taking off my shoes.
    “This
has
to be better tomorrow,” I told him. “It was really just a bad day. Tomorrow will be better. Let’s get some sleep.”
    His purring was the last thing I heard as I snuggled next to him and put my arm around his furry body.
    • • •
    Someone was pounding on the front door and calling my name. I checked my alarm clock—seven thirty. I’d forgotten to set my alarm.
    After disentangling Crème Brûlée from my arm, I got up and ran out of the office. Of course, he hissed at me. He rolled over and went back to sleep. How dare I disturb his slumber?
    It was Miguel. He pointed to his watch before I opened the front door.
    “We’re supposed to be at the police station by nine. We need time to talk before we go.”
    I yawned. “I just woke up. I need a shower and a change of clothes.”
    He looked at my rumpled jeans and T-shirt from yesterday. “You look fine. Let’s go.”
    He had to be joking. I searched his very sincere face. He wasn’t joking.
    “I’m not going in the clothes I slept in. Help yourself to some coffee while I get dressed. It will only take a few minutes.” I blew a curl that had fallen into my face and swiveled to leave him.
    “We still have to talk about everything that happened yesterday,” he maintained. “We have to get your statement right.”
    Yeah, yeah.
“We’ll have time while we’re driving. Have some coffee, please.”
    He said a few other things before I grabbed my clothes