Like Coffee and Doughnuts Read online

  “Although you are absolutely correct, I would like to point out that this car is the exact same age as me, so watch it with the ‘venerable old’ talk. Where in the hell did you learn to use the word venerable, anyway?”

  “I use words like venerable,” Seth said, mildly disgruntled. “And Matilda is forty-one, that’s like…ninety in car years.”

  “She may look like an old lady, but inside she still purrs like a kitten.”

  “Same as you,” Seth said with a wink.

  “I have never looked like an old lady.” I grabbed the nearest box, shoved it into Seth’s arms, and took another for myself, following him through the shop to the back room where the rest of my stuff was stashed. It took us three trips to get everything inside. The only things left in the car were my suitcase and garment bag, a box of stuff off my desk, and my laptop computer.

  Seth took the box and I grabbed the bags, and we climbed the wooden stairway that ran up the outside of the garage to an apartment built over it. This was Seth’s place. And mine, for the foreseeable future.

  The steps creaked alarmingly and bounced more than I generally liked in my climbing apparatus. “Don’t you worry about these falling off?”

  “Naw,” he said, pausing to lean on the railing and look back at me. “I used to, but that bugged me, so a couple of years ago, I spent about half an hour out here jumping up and down for all I was worth to see what would happen. Turns out they’re more solid than they seem. Here I’ll show you—”

  “Do not jump on these steps right now, or I will smack the shit out of you.”

  Seth grinned and ran the rest of the way up.

  Seth’s monkey-like qualities extended to his living habits, and I never failed to be a little dismayed when I went into his apartment. Junk was littered everywhere. Magazines, pizza boxes, beer cans, laundry. Dirty dishes and open cereal boxes covered the counter in the kitchenette. The coffee table was spread with newspaper and sported a vast array of engine parts and beer cans. Behind that, against the wall, was a massive brown sofa with fat, low slung cushions. It was…pristine.

  “You cleaned it?” I asked, disbelieving.

  “Yup.” Seth beamed. “I even pulled out the cushions and vacuumed all down in there. I knew you’d freak out about sleeping on it if I didn’t.”

  “Since when do you own a vacuum?”

  “I brought the Shop-Vac up here. Does the same job, right?”

  “It would appear so,” I said, putting my bags down on the one clean surface in the entire apartment. “Now all I have to worry about is what might crawl out of the darkness to get me in the night.”

  “Yeah, well, I think there’s a box of doughnuts under the chair. You can toss those to distract it.”

  “You are disgusting, you know that?” I unzipped my garment bag and laid it out on the sofa. “Where can I hang my clothes up?”

  Seth stared at me blankly.

  “Got some space in a closet? I need to hang these up or they wrinkle.”

  “Um, right.” Seth pivoted on his heel and kicked a path to the tiny coat closet by the door. He pulled a few computer boxes out of it and bounced them into a corner. “You need me to make some space in the bathroom for your curlers and make-up?”

  “Fuck you. Normal people hang their clothes up. This is the usual way in which grown-ups do things.” I bent down to look under the chair. “Are there really doughnuts under there? This is not a healthy way to live. Seriously.”

  Chapter 2

  “There’s a lot of apartments for rent in St. Pete,” Seth said, reading the classifieds and taking a sip of his beer.

  We were in the Blue Bottle, a dumpy place done in some kind of attempt at a beach house-sea shanty motif, which ended up looking more like an Italian crab shack. Worked for me. They had the typical seaside stuff on the walls, like starfish and life preservers, but the tables were covered in checkered red and white cloths and empty mayonnaise jars with candles in them.

  “No way, I hate it over there. Hell, you couldn’t get out of there fast enough, now you think I should live there? It’s too bland. I came down here for the beach, and I want to stay by the beach.”

  “Too bland? You’re worried about too bland?”

  “Well, yeah. I gotta’ live in a place with a little style, you know?”

  “O-kay…” Seth said with a low whistle. “Dino needs a spicy apartment.”

  “Stylish,” I corrected him. “Charismatic.”

  “Charismatic? You’re gonna live in the place, not date it.”

  The bartender brought us steamed clams and chicken wings, and we shuffled the papers around, making room for the plates. I took a sip of my drink and started in on the clams. I love any kind of seafood as long as it’s not in a condition to fight back, but I especially like food that requires a little effort to eat. I scooped one out of the shell and dipped it in butter.

  “Mmm, man, these are good.” I hummed, closing my eyes to savor it.

  “Yeah, they’re not too bad.” Seth slurped one into his mouth and washed it down with a drink of beer. He wiped the butter from his chin with the back of his hand.

  Seth will eat anything you put in front of him, regardless of the state it’s in. I’m not even sure it has to be food. Let’s just say I wouldn’t reach in front of him to get the salt.

  He bit into a chicken wing and flipped over the section of newspaper he was scanning. “Hey! Here’s something,” he said, marking the ad with a buffalo sauce fingerprint.

  I took the paper from him and read out loud. “Madeira Beach. One bedroom apartment located in commercial neighborhood. No pets. No kids. No floozies. Call Adele.”

  “Got enough character for you?”

  “No floozies? Are they serious?” I dunked another clam and ate it, staring at the paper. “If these are Bible nuts, I wouldn’t be able to take it.”

  “Call the number,” Seth said.

  I pulled my cellphone from my pants pocket and flipped it open, checking the ad as I dialed. The phone rang several times, and I wondered if I was going to get anyone when there was finally an answer.

  “Yes?” came the feeble voice of an old lady.

  “Ah, hello, ma’am. Would I be speaking to Adele?”

  “No. That’s my sister-in-law.” Her words were well formed and clipped at the end. “I’ll get her.”

  I could hear her set the phone down and muffled voices in the background.

  “Yeah, what can I do for you?” This voice was deep and gravelly, and you could just about hear the lung cancer over the line. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind this woman was a heavy smoker and probably had been since prohibition.

  “You have an apartment for rent?” I asked. “I’m lookin’ at your ad here in yesterday’s paper.”

  “You got pets?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. And I don’t have kids, and I am most definitely not a floozy.”

  “You date ’em?”

  “Nope, and I’m not really in the market for a roommate at the moment, if that’s what you’re getting at.” The broad was blunt, but I kind of liked her. She sounded like she didn’t take shit from anybody, and I doubted I’d have to worry about any Bible thumping going on.

  “The apartment is on the second floor, six hundred a month, plus utilities. We don’t put up with late payers, loud tenants, or people who mess up the place. And, you gotta’ pay a three hundred dollar deposit and a month’s rent up front.”

  “What about parking?” I asked. Seth nodded his approval.

  “There’s parking in the front, off the street.”

  “Sounds good. When can I come see it?”

  “Anytime, I guess,” she said. “We’ll be around until tomorrow afternoon at least. You can come tonight if you don’t make it too late.”

  “Tomorrow sounds great. What’s the address? I could be there around ten if that works for you.”

  “That’d be fine. Nine twenty-seven First Street. Up past the Winn Dixie.”

  �
��Sure, I know the area. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks.”

  She hung up the phone without saying goodbye. I put mine away and took a sip of my drink. It sounded promising. Madeira Beach is crammed into about two square miles, in the middle of a long string of other little beach towns, and the area she mentioned was convenient to everything.

  “Well?” Seth asked, sucking the last bits of meat off a chicken bone.

  I shrugged. “The price is right. Location might not be bad. You want to check it out with me?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t own a coffee maker,” I groaned as Seth and I sat waiting for a stoplight. It was nine in the morning, and I didn’t feel properly awake, since I hadn’t been treated to my daily dose of caffeine for the second morning in a row.

  Seth, on the other hand, was full of piss and vinegar and some neon puce colored drink that came in an industrial can. I didn’t know the name of it, because I couldn’t bear to watch.

  “Coffee tastes like dirt,” he said. “And it stinks after about the first fifteen minutes.”

  “It is a necessary part of life, and if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kick you out of the car and run over you. Repeatedly.”

  Seth chuckled. “I said I would buy you a cup somewhere, just find a place and pull over.”

  “I know where I’m going. I refuse to drink convenience store coffee after the lousy night of sleep I just had.”

  The apartment turned out to be a sweet deal, and I snapped it up. We signed the papers on the spot. Calling the First Street neighborhood a “commercial area” was a bit of a stretch. There was a plumbing outfit, the back side of a mini golf course, and the CVS at the end of the block. Everything else was apartments.

  Adele’s building was a plain, two-story block with a ground floor storefront and a big, faded sign over the door that read Triggs Hardware. The layers of dust on the plate glass windows suggested it had been closed for years, and from what I saw through them, it appeared the space was being used for storage now. The apartments, entryway and stairs were all clean and relatively well cared for.

  It took a little charm, but I convinced them to let me move in right away. I used the same charm to get Seth to spend the day helping me haul furniture. I also used a lot of beer. Much as I enjoyed his company, I needed to be back in my own space as soon as possible, and I pushed to get as much done as we could in one shot.

  Seth caught his end of the mattress as I slid it out of the truck, and we headed for the entryway. “You are a very surly man when you’re on a mission,” he said. “It’s not at all attractive.”

  “I’ll buy you dinner after we’re done with this, how’s that?”

  “You have to buy me beer too.”

  “I already bought you beer.”

  “Yeah, but we’re nearly out of that beer, and I’m going to need more beer later.”

  “Fine, I’ll buy you dinner and beer.”

  “Next you’ll be expecting me to put out.”

  Adele chose that moment to come into the hall, carrying a big, vinyl purse and a shopping bag. We were halfway up the stairs with the mattress, and she stopped and stared at us through huge, black sunglasses.

  “Ah. Good evening, ma’am,” I said, nodding to her. Seth grinned at me with the smug expression of someone who’s not dealing with his own landlord.

  “You can drop all that ma’am bullshit. Adele is fine. I thought Ruth said you weren’t moving in until tomorrow.” She had a sour expression that made me feel like a roach she’d discovered in her kitchen.

  “Well yes, ma—Adele, she did say that, but you see there were extenuating circumstances, and when I explained them to Ruth she told me I could move in right away.”

  “What kind of circumstances?” she asked, all gravel.

  “My friend is a pig.”

  Seth huffed in protest. “I’m not a pig, I just have a messy house.”

  “Your furniture has its own ecosystem.”

  “My furniture’s fine, you’re just a candy assed prima donna.” He shoved on his end of the mattress and nearly plowed me over.

  Adele shook her head. “I think this is where I came in,” she said and headed down the hallway. “You won’t be moving furniture around at all hours of the night, will you?”

  “We’re just going to do one more load this evening and get the bed set up. We won’t be any trouble at all,” I assured her.

  “All right then, good night,” she said, and left.

  I scrambled the rest of the way up the stairs as Seth continued to mow me down.

  An hour later I had my dining table and chairs set up by the kitchenette, and Seth was in the other room putting together my bed for me. He was clearly going for lobster and prime rib on my dime.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning I woke up and sighed with satisfaction. My back didn’t hurt, my pillow smelled fresh and clean, and I wasn’t itching any place suspicious. There are very few things as good in life as sleeping in your own bed, and I liked mine so much at that moment I rolled over and didn’t get out of it until ten thirty.

  That right there is one of the big reasons I decided to become a private eye. I don’t like other people telling me what to do and when to do it. I’d much rather take care of business on my own schedule. If I want to sleep in, I sleep in, and if I want to work all night, then I work all night. This is also why I don’t have roommates to speak of. Lovers can be as bad or worse than bosses, and I tend to like them better at a distance. Once in a while one captures my attention and I’m willing to be amused for a bit, but I meant it when I told Seth I’m selective. I haven’t had a lot of success in the relationship department, and there aren’t many people in the world I want to spend that much time with anyway.

  Seth, on the other hand, treats sex and dating like one big party, and everyone’s invited. He’s deeply appalled by my loner lifestyle and is forever trying to set me up with people, both male and female. Because in his book, you never limit your options. For all I know, he’s got the right idea. I’ve been attracted to a guy or two in my time, but never did anything about it.

  When I’d finally had my fill of clean sheets and a soft mattress, I got out of bed and stretched luxuriously. I dug around in a box in the corner until I found a couple good CDs and took my player into the bathroom, where I cranked up Elvis and took a long, hot shower. That, too, was like heaven after Seth’s place where I think new forms of life were breeding. Next time I use his bathroom, I’m wearing a Hazmat suit.

  After a fairly obscene amount of time, even by my standards, I finally turned off the water and scrubbed myself dry with a towel—also clean, fluffy, and fresh smelling. Maybe I should have Seth stay at my place for a couple of days and see if he doesn’t develop a yen for clean living himself.

  The last thing missing from my perfect morning was hot brew. I wrapped the towel around my waist and went out to the kitchen, grooving to Heartbreak Hotel. I ground up coffee beans and measured them into the basket of the coffee maker, filled it with water, and switched it on.

  I was about to go get dressed when there was a knock at my front door. Seth had left a doggie bag in my car with a hunk of prime rib, a few stuffed shrimp, and a pile of dinner rolls, and I figured he was back to get it. God forbid he should starve.

  “Anything you leave in my car is fair game,” I chided as I yanked the door open.

  “Is that so?” said a regal looking dame with a slow Southern drawl. “In that case, you’re likely to find me decorating your back seat, darlin’.”

  She was dressed in a flowy pantsuit kind of thing and glittered with jewelry, almost to the point of being overdone. Her perfect make-up and frosted hair suggested she was an expert at making herself pretty and never went anywhere without doing just that. I’d put her in her mid-sixties, but even so, she was unusually attractive, and back in the day she must have been quite a dish. The way she was looking at me made me feel like a main course. Cheap, and a little di
rty even. Then I remembered I was half naked.

  “Oh, ah…I’m sorry, I was expecting someone else,” I said lamely.

  “That’s quite all right, honey,” she said as she swept into the room. “You look just fine to me.” She cocked her head and smiled, holding up the plate she was carrying. “I brought you some hot buns.”

  I clutched at my towel, because I had the distinct feeling if it fell off, I was the one who was going to get the shock of his life. This woman knew exactly what she was doing.

  “You are Dino Martini, aren’t you?” She extended a bejeweled hand over the plate of cinnamon rolls and said, “I’m Della Vinson Owen. I’m your next-door neighbor. I came to welcome you to our little family.”

  “That’s very nice of you, ma’am,” I said giving her hand a squeeze. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy them very much.”

  She snatched the plate out of my reach and headed for the kitchen. “They’re my own personal recipe, I’m sure you’re going to just love them. Now, you have a seat and I’ll pour us some coffee, and we can get better acquainted.”

  That fact that me getting dressed wasn’t included in her list of instructions didn’t escape my notice, and I began to get the feeling I could be in a bit of trouble. Not that I was especially worried about my virtue, but the last thing I needed was to piss off my neighbors right out of the gate.

  “I was so happy when Adele told me we had a new tenant, and that he was a charming young man,” she was saying as she poked around in my cupboards for plates to serve the rolls on. “I share the apartment next door with Ruth Fletcher.”

  “Adele said I was charming?” I raised an eyebrow.

  She laughed. “Well, she didn’t use that word, exactly, but she didn’t use a lot of other words I’ve heard her call people, so I just read between the lines. And here you are, charming as anything.”

  She set the table with silverware and napkins, and put the rolls in the middle, then went back for coffee. Since it appeared I was going to have a brunch date whether I liked it or not, I snuck into the bedroom for some pants.