Another Word for Murder by Nero Blanc Page B

cackled. “And larger than life, to boot! I thought you had a court date in Beantown this morning.”
    â€œWhat? You’ve taken to hacking into the NPD computers in your spare time? You have our phones tapped? And I’ll take some java while you’re at it—if it’s not too much trouble for her highness to find the carafe.”
    â€œThe bunch of you have communal memory loss this morning or what? You and Abe were grousing about the Boston situation on Saturday, Big Al—in between yakking about a certain missing male.” Martha walked away and returned with the coffee and a cup and saucer, as well as a paper placemat, napkin, and silverware. “I take it you’re going to horn in on your buddy’s tête-à-tête with his adorable wife.”
    â€œThey had all weekend for canoodling,” was Al’s blithe reply as he slid into the banquette opposite Rosco and Belle.
    â€œAnd from the looks of them, they used up every lovin’ minute,” the waitress joked.
    Al glanced at his former partner, and then at Belle. “What gives? Martha’s right; you two are awfully quiet this morning. You didn’t have a fight, did you?” Lever looked genuinely worried as he asked this question.
    But Rosco and Belle were saved from an immediate answer because Martha pulled out her order pad and retrieved the pencil she kept stuck into the shellacked waves of her blonde beehive. “So, what’ll it be, Big Al? By the way, is this breakfast number two or number three …?”
    â€œYuk, yuk … And it’s my first, for your information.”
    Martha arched an eyebrow, an action she’d perfected during her many years as Lawson’s queen bee. “Helen’s finally put you on that diet, has she?”
    â€œIf you knew my wife’s cooking, you wouldn’t bother to ask.”
    â€œSave it, Big Al. I know the routine already. The only danger Helen ever encounters in your kitchen is the risk of freezer burn, right?”
    â€œWell, it’s true. A cook she definitely ain’t.” Al didn’t bother to reach for the menu as he spoke. None of Lawson’s regulars did; just as Martha didn’t really need to write down their orders. “A couple of eggs over easy—”
    â€œAnd a double order of hash browns … and extra bacon, extra crispy, and a large O.J.” Martha finished the words for him.
    â€œOnly if you twist my arm, Marth.”
    â€œSince when have you needed persuasion when it came to chow, Al?”
    â€œHo, ho.” Al stirred cream into his coffee, then turned toward Belle. “How’s your friend, Karen, doing?”
    â€œKaren?” she said too quickly, wondering if Al could now read her mind.
    â€œOh, boy …”
    â€œOh, that Karen!” Belle pasted on a smile. “She’s okay, I guess.”
    â€œNo word from the Doc, I take it?”
    â€œNot that I know of.”
    Lever frowned. “You mean she wouldn’t call you if he suddenly reappeared? Or Missing Persons? I hope the heck she’d notify NPD so we could call off our search for the Explorer.”
    â€œSure … of course, she would. Certainly. Yes.” Belle’s words tumbled over each other, and Al Lever’s scowl deepened.
    â€œYou lovebirds did have a fight, didn’t you?”
    â€œNo, Al. Honest!” Belle smiled brightened in order to prove her point, but the effort failed to convince Al that she was telling the truth.
    â€œSomething’s wrong, and I know it.” He looked at Rosco. “Aren’t you going to ask me if we’ve had any luck at all in chasing down Tacete’s Explorer?”
    â€œI thought I’d let you eat your breakfast in peace before hammering you with questions, Al.”
    â€œSince when do you allow me any kind of peace, Poly—crates?”
    Rosco laughed. The sound was relaxed and jocular enough to fool Lever.