Page 38 of Just Now

They entered the Zesty Kitchen and were greeted by the warm, inviting atmosphere. The smell of grilled meat filled the air. Copies of edgy modern art paintings lined the walls, giving the place a memorable character. Music from the eighties and nineties wafted from the loudspeakers.

Connor headed straight for the counter.

“Table for two?” the receptionist greeted them with a cheerful smile and a tilt of her curly blond head.

“No, thanks.” Connor showed his badge. “FBI here. We’d like a word with the manager. We need some information.”

“FBI?” She paled. “Is—is this place in trouble?”

“We’re seeking information at this stage. That’s all.”

His words weren’t exactly reassuring, and the receptionist looked even more disturbed as she turned away and hurried to a closed door. Tapping on it, she waited, calling, “Mr. Gaynor? It’s urgent.”

Cami looked around, checking what surveillance they had here. There were cameras, but they pointed toward the till, and were clearly designed to discourage staff from taking money, rather than to keep track of customers. There might be others outside, she guessed. Perhaps there were cameras in that big parking lot beyond the diner.

The office door opened, and a genial-looking, gray-haired man hurried out.

“Sorry, Carly, I was busy on a call,” he said. “What’s the problem?”

Turning to the reception desk, he saw the FBI badge Connor was holding out, and the same startled expression crossed his face.

“We need some information from you,” Connor said. “You’re the manager here?”

“I am the owner. Tom Gaynor. I have no idea what this is about, but could we talk in the back?” He glanced around the diner as if worried the customers might be affected by this police presence.

“We can do that.”

Tom opened the office door and raised the hinged portion of the counter for them to walk inside. Cami and Connor walked behind the reception area and into the small office beyond. There was only one seat at the desk, so they all stood.

“We’re investigating serial crimes,” Connor said, as Gaynor closed the door. “Three women have been murdered, and all of them were at your diner in the past few weeks.”

He looked flabbergasted, his blue eyes opening wide.

“My diner?”

“Correct,” Connor said.

“And you think one of my staff might have had something to do with this?”

“They would have interacted with the customers? Had access to the payment information, the customer info?”

He looked pale. “We don’t keep that a secret. I mean, anyone can see it, yes.”

“Any of your staff?”

“The front of house staff, yes. Not our dishwashers or cleaners, no.”

“Have you been at this business the past few nights?” Connor was obviously looking to clear the owner straight off.

He nodded. “I work six days a week, on-site, from eleven a.m. to midnight. Long hours, but that’s what it takes. Mondays are my only day off, and that’s when our assistant manager takes over.”

Kate had disappeared on a Wednesday evening. So the manager was cleared, Cami guessed, watching as Connor jotted down some notes. The most recent victim, Priscilla, could have been dumped early in the day today, and it was still uncertain when she’d been taken. The diner wasn’t open in the mornings, so Wednesday evening was the best time to rule out the suspects.

“Which of your staff were off on Wednesday afternoon, into the evening? Either scheduled or unscheduled absences, please,” Connor said.

Gaynor frowned.

“We had three of our front of house staff off on Wednesday late shift, which runs from two p.m. until we close after eleven. Dale Churm, Bobby Howes, and Cody McGovern. Other than that, everyone was here. No unscheduled absences. Cody’s our assistant manager.”

---