Fatal Reservations Read Online Free PDF Page B

Frontgate’s murder. “I think Eric will be able to calm him down and help him sort out his options. And even maybe figure out why he’s been fingered. I can’t imagine Lorenzo would hurt a fly, never mind kill someone. He’s a Buddhist and truly the most gentle soul I’ve ever met.”
    “He’s a darling man,” she said, her eyes narrowing. She draped the towel over the back of a kitchen chair and picked up Sparky, her purring cat. “Probably someone else set him up to take the fall for this, right? You should call that nice Steve Torrence and tell him the cops are on the wrong track.”
    I nodded reluctantly. I doubted that Lieutenant Torrence or any other member of the Key West Police Department would welcome my theories. Or, despite her recent status as local hero, Miss Gloria’s.
    “Would you mind dropping me off at the cemetery on your way downtown? My boss, Jane, is holding a special class for us guides on symbolism in the monuments.”
    “With all the time you’re spending there, I hope she’s paying you well,” I said with a laugh. And then I wondered why Miss Gloria wasn’t taking her car, although it seemed better not to even ask. Why take the risk of planting the idea back in her head?
    Once we were both dressed and groomed, I zipped Miss G over to the graveyard and then continued to the restaurant, located in the Bahama Village section of town, which formerly housed mainly people of Bahamian descent. Firefly Restaurant, serving home-style Southern food, is just a block down Petronia Street from two other Key West tourist eatery favorites, BlueHeaven and La Creperie. New places like Firefly, part of the creeping gentrification of the island, are good for foodies, but not so good for average working people looking for affordable meals and livable rents.
    I arrived before Lorenzo and Eric and managed to snag a seat upstairs on the porch overlooking Petronia Street. Sitting with one eye on the street and the other on the door so I could watch for my friends, I perused the appetizers on the menu. My eye caught on pimento cheese with spiced saltine crackers and a plate of fried green tomatoes—was it too early in the day for pimento cheese? My mouth watered at the prospect, which I interpreted as a definitive no. The waitress filled a mason jar with unsweetened iced tea, and I sat back to watch the slow parade of people and chickens below me and jot a few notes about the setting.
    A few minutes later, a tall man with tousled blond hair, plummy cheeks, and wire-rimmed glasses appeared in the doorway. Eric. I waved and he came over to join me. We exchanged hugs and he sat across from me.
    “How are the doggies? How’s Bill?” Bill is Eric’s husband, and also co-parent to their two beloved Yorkies.
    “All good. How was the city commission meeting?”
    “Awful,” I said. “Long and tense. And then this thing with Lorenzo.” I’d told him the bare bones of the story when I’d called to set this meeting up.
    Lorenzo fluttered in, still wearing the same black pants, white shirt, and black clogs he’d had on the night before—minus the tie. He looked as though he’d slept in his clothes or, more likely, hadn’t slept at all. His wavy hair was uncombed and he was missing an earring. He was usually so fastidious that thisdownturn in appearance alarmed me. He took the seat next to me.
    “Just ice water. With lemon,” he told the waitress when she asked him about a beverage. “If I have one more jot of caffeine, I may blast off,” he said to me.
    I introduced him to Eric. “I feel like you two should know each other already.”
    “By reputation, certainly,” said Eric. “Hayley speaks very highly of you.”
    “Thank you,” said Lorenzo in a soft, earnest voice. “She’s a dear friend. And a good person. And if you’re a friend of hers, that’s all I need to know.”
    “Tell us what’s happening,” I said. “I’m so worried about you.”
    Lorenzo lowered his voice so we could