The Tanglewood Murders. David Weedmark
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finished with his burger. The bun was hard, and the meat was burnt on one end. He pushed his plate to the side.
“The cops should find him, though—especially with this thing with Anna. I don’t think Miguel is his real name though. The migrant workers, the Mexicans, all called him something else, I think.”
“Maybe you should tell the cops.”
“Why me?”
“Like you said, Voracci may not want them to know about
Miguel. And if you think he had something to do with Anna, you have to tell the police.”
“Maybe. I don’t want to get Voracci in trouble though,” Scotty said quietly as the waitress came to pick up their plates. He smiled at her again, but she did not seem to notice.
Scotty watched her black skirt sway as she walked away.
“She’s cute,” Taylor said.
“She’s hot. I’d love to take her out some night.”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
Scotty guffawed. “Are you kidding me? She wouldn’t have anything to do with us. We’re farmhands.”
“Come on, she’s a waitress. She’s cute. Kind of grumpy, but that might just be at work. Give it a shot.”
“No way,” said Scotty.
When the waitress returned, writing out their bill, Taylor pretended to notice her name tag for the first time. “Nice meal, Cindy.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
“You’re not Beck’s daughter, are you?”
“Nope.”
“That’s good.” He sat back, crossed his arms and grinned at her.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something since the first time we met a couple weeks ago.”
Cindy seemed to be bracing herself, suddenly nervous. “What’s that?”
“Who the hell is this Beck guy, anyway?”
“Becky,” she grinned. “The owner’s daughter.”
“Is that her nickname, or did someone lose the ‘Y’ on the sign?” asked Scotty.
“That’s her name,” she replied. Then she shrugged and picked up their plates.
Taylor nodded. “Anyway, that’s real sweet. How old is she?”
“Now? Probably in her sixties. This place has been here a long time…sir.”
Taylor grinned. “Are you open for the long weekend?
“Canada Day? Yes.”
“But they’re giving you the day off, right?”
She held their plates on a tray on the counter behind her and began to add up their bills. “Nah, I’ll be working all day.”
“Do they pay you overtime for that?”
“Yeah, they are...in a way. I get all of Saturday and Sunday off.”
“Going out with your boyfriend?”
She smiled again, anticipating the direction of the conversation.
“Nah. I broke up with him after Christmas.”
“Then maybe you could go out with me…or my friend here,”
Taylor continued.
Scotty glowed.
“That depends,” she said, ignoring Scotty. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about a movie?”
“What kinda movie?”
“A bad movie.”
She laughed. “I’m not seeing no bad movies!”
“Bad movies are best.”
“Oh yeah? How come?”
“If it’s a bad movie, you won’t mind me distracting you through the best parts.” He beamed at her.
“I don’t think so.” She tore his bill from her pad and put it on the table in front of him.
Taylor picked up the bill and reached for some money. “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Here or at your house?”
She leaned towards him, whispering softly. “Here. Wait out front.”
“That’s the spirit.” He winked and slid out of the booth, Scotty following his lead.
Outside, Scotty walked slowly, chewing his nail, thinking. “That was smooth,” he said. “But how the hell did you do that?”
“You just have to be confident,” Taylor said and waited for Scotty to get in the car and unlock the passenger door.
“I have bad luck with women,” Scotty said as Taylor slid into his seat.“Besides, I don’t get to meet too many good-looking women once the summer starts up. There’s the waitress there, but she likes you.
There’s Voracci’s wife, and he’s got her. And there’s the Mennonite girls at the winery, but I’d have to go to church…”
“Ever meet his wife?” Taylor asked.
“Whose wife?”
“Voracci’s wife. What’s she like?”
“Ginny?” he said. “She’s pretty. Not a model. Younger than you, older than me, I’d say. Nice tits. Nice legs.”
Taylor forced a smile at Scotty’s attempt to describe her.
“Brown hair. Big brown eyes,” Scotty continued. “Canadian, not Italian. She wears dresses and jeans, I guess. She never comes out.
When she comes out, she never goes far, ’less Voracci’s with her.”
“But have you seen her lately?” Taylor asked.
Scotty shook his head. “Nope. She won’t talk to the workers either. She comes out for the company picnic every July. Other than that she stays in the house. I think she travels a lot too. She’s nice to look at, but I heard she’s really stuck up. A real bitch.”
“No kidding,” said Taylor. “That shouldn’t surprise me.”
“Me neither. The pretty ones usually are.”
“That’s one hell of an attitude,” said Taylor. “I can’t imagine why you’re on your own.”
Scotty shrugged and made the car thunder down the darkened highway.
“You should go into town more often,” Taylor shouted over the wind. “Or go to the beach. There are lots of girls there.”
“Yeah, right. Those girls aren’t interested in anyone like us.
They’re looking for college guys.”
“I’m serious. Just shave, get a haircut, and you won’t have a problem at all.”
“That your secret, Taylor?”
Taylor shrugged. “I guess.”
“Then why don’t you shave?” Scotty laughed. It had been a joke.
As a reflex, Taylor touched his chin. He was surprised when his fingers felt three or four day’s growth on his face. “Guess that’s not my secret.”
“So how did you know?”
“What?”
“That she wanted to go out with you when she said she didn’t.”
Taylor