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“My schedule is pretty irregular. I…never know far in advance. I’m subject to call. Sometimes I even work in the daytime. That’s why I called—to tell you I hate it, but I won’t be able to see you today. I…I have to be…there at noon.”
“Tomorrow is free, so far as I know. I’ll come by early afternoon. Okay?”
Of course, she’d agreed, but Kitt was disappointed. A whole day without Rob would be like a day without sunlight. Unless…she eagerly dug an Ocala area phone book out of Auntie’s bookcase and looked for Fruits of the Sea. There it was, pictured in an ad, and it looked really nice. She stuck a note paper in the book to mark the page. Maybe she and Sug would go for dinner and surprise Rob. She could send a note to him in the kitchen with the server saying, “Compliments to the chef.”
Kitt was thrilled to see Rob a day later when he showed up at the house before noon, bearing lunch.
Auntie had felt bad the day before and Kitt had stayed home with her the entire time. She’d tried to talk Sug into a trip to the doctor but the stubborn woman wouldn’t go. All she did all day was complain.
Since Kitt couldn’t make inroads on her Terewski investigation, she’d made a pot of chicken soup for the two of them for dinner. While eating it, she thought about the delicious food they could be eating at Fruits of the Sea.
Auntie told Rob she felt fine today, “—in spite of that awful tasting soup my niece made me last night.”
“You mean Kitt can’t cook?” He winked at Kitt. “What do you think of my culinary abilities?”
“You made this seafood salad?” Sugar beamed. “You’re talented as well as a stud muffin. Kitt, don’t let this man get away.”
“Aunt Carolina,” Kitt scolded, but Rob was laughing so hard she thought he’d split his sides.
“This is delicious. And I confess, my soup wasn’t the best. If Sug hadn’t been under the weather yesterday, we might have dined at Fruits of the Sea,” Kitt said.
“No need to come there,” Rob sputtered. “I can make you whatever you want to try right here at home. There’s no sense in you paying their high prices.”
“But we’d like to see where you work. It was going to be a surprise.” And now I’ve spoiled it. But why doesn’t he want us to come?
“You cook?” Auntie had a dozen questions for him after hearing this conversation. Where did he learn how? What were his specialties? How long was he in the Navy?
Kitt would like to have known a lot of this stuff herself but Rob seemed uncomfortable so she came to the rescue. “I hate to interrupt this interrogation but you need to rest, Sug, and meanwhile we’re going…somewhere.”
Rob rose so fast he almost knocked over his chair.
“…damned tired of naps,” Sugar sputtered and stomped out of the room.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Rob said as they drove away. “Next thing you know, she’d have been questioning my intentions with her niece.” He winked at Kitt. “Is there any place in particular you’d like to go? Or do?”
Fruits of the Sea just because I’m curious what you’re hiding. There’s some reason you don’t want us dining there, but what is it? “I don’t…”
Her cell phone rang. Damn. When she saw it was Dan, she picked up cautiously, holding the phone to her right ear, hoping Rob wouldn’t hear the other end of the conversation.
“Your suspect was reportedly seen in Fruitland Park earlier. He was filling his gas tank at a new Kangaroo Station on the main drag, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt.”
That was one of the towns in the area Dan had lined out on a map and he’d contacted some spotters in each one.
“Fruitland Park is relatively small so you might be able to spot his Porsche if he’s still around.”
“Roger,” she said. Kitt looked at her watch. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rob tapped a fist against the steering wheel. “Roger? Train Man isn’t going to like you talking to another guy. And what is it you’re going to get on? He might not approve of that either, especially if it’s another guy’s dick.”
Why did I say ‘roger’? That was so hokey. She’d obviously watched too many B rated crime shows. A seasoned professional would have come up with another term but her thoughts were whirling. Dan was handing her a clue and she had to figure out how to follow up on it when she was with Rob.
Rob—married and divorced, in the Navy, a chef, making seafood salad. It was hard to match him with all those images. He was the same guy she knew back when, yet different.
She wrinkled her nose at him. He was more of an enigma than her perpetrator.
Concentrate, Kitt. Where would Jason go after filling his tank? A bank? Supermarket? Maybe he’d rented a room or a house and was going there.
Rob chuckled and reached his left hand over to his right T-shirt sleeve, where he’d rolled a cigarette pack.
