Free Falafel Jones - Max Fried 02 - Payback's a Beach by Falafel Jones Page B

I’d rather they didn’t know.”
    “Isn’t 6:30 kind of late for a job interview?”
    “I had a 4:00 appointment. It ran till five and then I had dinner until 6:30. Alone.”
    “Any proof?”
    “Wait a minute.” Kimberly went back into the office and returned with a charge slip for Fortellini’s, an Italian restaurant on Collin’s Avenue. The time stamp showed 6:34 pm.
    I returned her charge slip. “OK, Kimberly. If this is legit, we’ll keep quiet about it. Thanks for helping Brenda.”
    Back in the car, Mariel said, “So Kimberly couldn’t be the killer.”
    “Why? Because she has a restaurant receipt?”
    “Of course. You don’t think she forged it, do you?”
    “No, I don’t, but her producing a receipt doesn’t mean she’s the one who ate there. It could be a company card. If so, her mother, her dad, or even Art, the super salesman could have used it. Heck, if it was her card, she could have had a girlfriend use it to establish an alibi.”
    “So, how will you confirm it?”
    “I can’t. If I ask who interviewed her, Kimberly will shoot me down. Me asking about her would kill her job opportunity. Short of driving to Miami and hoping someone at the restaurant remembers her, there’s nothing I can do. It’s not worth driving there for such a long shot.” I put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot.
     
    We drove up Dixie Freeway to the police station and entered the lobby. Despite my repeated visits, the cop behind the thick glass stared at me waiting for me to announce my name.
    I said, “Mariel Fried for Detective Torres.”
    Even though the cop had to know that wasn’t my name, he picked up the phone, said something I couldn’t hear, and buzzed us in.
    I held the door for Mariel and she asked me, “How come you didn’t say your name?”
    Torres was waiting for us in the hallway. He must have heard her question because he answered, “Max wanted to make sure I’d let him in.”
    He stepped forward, hugged Mariel and asked, “How you been doing?” They met a while back when I worked my first case with Ed.
    Mariel returned his hug, smiled and stepped back but she held onto his forearms. “Great. You look well. How about you?”
    Torres smiled for maybe the third time I’ve ever seen him do that. “I’m good.” He turned and said, “C’mon.”
    We followed him down a hall and he asked, “Is this to do with Colletti? He just spent 15 minutes looking for your name on You Tube.”
    Mariel and I exchanged silent glances behind Torres’s back and I said, “No.”
    We turned into the break room and Mariel used a napkin to remove her empty coffee cup from a paper bag. Torres watched her place it on a table and he said, “Oh, we have some guest cups if you’d like but I can’t recommend our coffee.”
    I said, “This cup has fingerprints from Scott Barker and of course, Mariel.”
    “Who is Scott Barker?”
    “He owns the coffee shop, Thanx a latte. ”
    “Why him?”
    “He’s Brenda McCarthy’s ex-boyfriend. He broke the window in her office when she dumped him and he fudged on his alibi.”
    Torres leaned back against the break room counter and crossed his arms. I wondered if he did that just to make his biceps bulge. “So, you think maybe he was on Fisher’s boat?”
    “You have a better suspect?”
    “You know I can’t discuss that with you.”
    Mariel said, “Would it be too much trouble to see if his prints are on the boat?”
    “Since not everybody’s in the system, we lifted a lot of unidentifiable prints. Matching against a known person might help.”
    “Then you’ll do it?”
    “Sure, Ms. Fried, we can check it out for you. I’ll let you know.”
    Back in the car, Mariel said, “I don’t know why you always say Torres is difficult. I don’t find him that way at all.”
    I gripped the wheel tighter and drove.
     
    Mariel asked, “Where are we going?”
    “I’d like to ask around at the Co-op, see if anybody there can place Scott or Kimberly at the