Free Night of the Living Dandelion by Kate Collins Page B

this afternoon?”
    “No. Why?”
    “We’ve had a number of them here from someone claiming to be the leader of the Garlic Party, whatever that is, with threats to harm Vlad if he shows up for work. I was hoping they hadn’t called you, too.”
    “The Garlic Party is what the vigilantes call themselves, Marco. Tara said they wear garlic cloves around their necks.”
    “In any case, I called the police and asked to have a tap put on our line. We’ll see if they cooperate. Actually, the media outside may be doing us a favor. I doubt anyone would harass Vlad with dozens of young women and a news crew watching.”
    “In that case, you’re welcome.”
     
    At ten minutes after five, I hop-stepped up the sidewalk toward the chain of girls, who cheered when Tara announced me. Marco was waiting at the door to let me in, and he got a cheer, too. There were still quite a few people standing across the street wearing garlic garlands and carrying signs, but the news crew had departed, having finished filming for the evening broadcast.
    “I hope the Goth squad isn’t keeping customers away,” I said to Marco.
    “No worries there.” He stepped back to let me inside, where I saw a packed room. Apparently Tara and company were good for business.
    And that wasn’t the only surprise. Marco pointed toward the bar, where Vlad was mixing drinks, to the delight of the women filling every seat along the counter.
    “Where was he?” I asked.
    “Let’s get you seated first,” Marco said. “Then I’ll explain.”
     
    “Vlad took the train to Chicago?” I asked, as Marco brought two beers back from the bar and slid into the booth across from me.
    He nodded. “Took a cab to the station early this morning, then rode the seven-thirty train into the city to see an old army friend. He got back at four thirty this afternoon, showed up here at four fifty, and was shocked when I told him the police had been looking for him.”
    “Didn’t Vlad get their messages?”
    “Nope. He forgot to charge his cell phone last night. He didn’t realize it was dead until he got to Chicago and tried to use it. He was completely unaware of what was happening here.”
    “What was his reaction?”
    “Alarmed. Concerned. He was going to go straight to the station to be fingerprinted, but I talked him into calling Dave Hammond instead. And it was a good thing I did. Once Vlad explained the situation, Dave put a halt to any thoughts he had of giving the cops any help. As he told Vlad, either the prosecutor has a case against him with what he already has, or he doesn’t. And fortunately he doesn’t.”
    “Did you tell him about the threatening calls?”
    “Yep.”
    “And Vlad still wants to work here?”
    Marco nodded. “He said he enjoys the work and isn’t going to let a few idiots ruin that for him. A news reporter tried to get an interview from him, but he wouldn’t agree to it. He doesn’t want the publicity. I had to guard the door to keep more reporters from coming in.”
    “Was there a mob scene out front when Vlad arrived?”
    “He saw them and came in the back way.”
    “I hope he realizes that will only work a few times before they figure it out. Anyway, I’ve got some good news. Jillian asked me not to make our announcement because she and Clayton can’t be there. I didn’t have to bribe her after all.”
    Gert stopped at our booth. “What’s for dinner tonight, lovebirds?”
    “Ham and cheese on rye,” I said.
    “Same, please,” Marco said. “Would you bring fresh beers, too?”
    “Sure thing, boss,” Gert said, and hurried away.
    “What happened when you told your parents we weren’t coming to dinner?” he asked.
    “The usual. Dad was understanding, and Mom was disappointed. I had to promise three times that we’d be there next week.”
    “You got off light.”
    “Not quite. Mom told me she was going to drop off her latest work of art after school on Monday and asked if I’d hang it in a prominent place.