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  "Not today, girls!" he yelled as he accelerated, spraying gravel toward me and Miranda, before fishtailing out of the alley.

  "Are you all right?" Miranda asked, helping me off the ground.

  The crumpled paper in my fist was my answer. That son of a bitch had gotten away again.

  I sighed in frustration.

  "Sorry," Miranda said, her face scrunched up. "I thought I had him cornered."

  "It's not your fault," I said.

  "Why is he so against helping Leo? I thought they were business partners. Wouldn't it be better for Eddie if Leo wasn't convicted of arson?" Miranda asked.

  "Hey!"

  I turned and saw the redheaded woman standing in the back door of the shop. Her eyes squinted at Miranda and me, and her face pulled into a sneer.

  "You two are not welcome back here!" she screeched. "Do you understand me?"

  Miranda and I exchanged a glance, then shrugged and started walking away, back down the alley where Eddie had just fled. Neither of us could usually afford to shop at the Red Silk Ribbon, so banishment wasn't the penalty she seemed to think it was. The redhead continued to scream at us then I heard a door slam behind us.

  "Want to see what I bought?" Miranda asked.

  "Sure."

  She opened the bag and pulled out a blue bikini with gold ties. If there was a dozen square inches of fabric, I'd be surprised.

  "Nice!" I said.

  "Yeah, half off, too."

  A piece of paper fluttered to the ground, and I stooped to pick it up. I started to hand it to Miranda but stopped as I read the flyer in my hand. The Red Silk Ribbon was moving to a new location.

  "Did you see this?" I asked.

  "I saw the sign at the cash register. They're moving to a larger space with better parking."

  "Did you see the address?" I asked, a slow grin spreading over my face. "It's where Leo's restaurant was."

  Miranda gasped, and we turned to each other again.

  "Got time to go talk to Leo?" I asked.

  "At his food truck?" Miranda asked, her face lighting up at the thought. "I'll drive."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Leo's food truck, the unfortunately named Five Alarm Tacos, was easy to find. I'd downloaded his app that kept me updated with his current menu and location. As Miranda drove the Golf Ball across town, I gave directions to a shady parking lot near the university where Leo was scheduled to serve up his unique brand of tacos until mid-afternoon.

  Even though we arrived before the lunch rush, there were already a dozen people in line. Leo leaned down and waved at us as we approached. By the time we got to the window, my mouth was starting to water from the sight and smell of baskets of tacos passing by.

  "Good morning, ladies," Leo said with a grin. "How can I help you this morning?"

  Leo's unfailing good mood just made me feel worse. He was the most optimistic person I'd ever met. He was certain that he'd be acquitted and that we would be able to prove that he didn't burn down his restaurant. Unfortunately, I wasn't as confident in our ability to counter his own words admitting that it was his fault.

  "Well, we were hoping to talk with you, but you seem busy," I said, looking back at the line behind us.

  "No problem," Leo said. "I can take a couple minutes break. Now, what will you have?"

  "Two sweet potato and black bean tacos with extra sour cream and a side of hot salsa," Miranda said. "And two of the chicken tacos with cilantro sauce."

  Miranda continued to study the menu with the intensity of a scholar. "And let's try the tilapia sliders with jalapeño coleslaw."

  "Sounds good," I said.

  "Aren't you going to order anything?" Miranda asked.

  "Right. Of course." I glanced up at the specials, handwritten in chalk on a crowded blackboard and just chose one at random. "I'll have a number three."

  "Grab a table and I'll bring it out in about five minutes," Leo said. He refused to let us pay and waved us away.

  We found a picnic table in a grassy area under a shade tree where it wasn't as sweltering, and waited for Leo to bring us our lunch order. It was a typical valley summer day—warm and dry, approaching scorching by late afternoon. It was still pleasant enough to sit outside, or at least it would be if I weren't still wearing my black, padded motorcycle pants.

  A light breeze moved the air around as we watched the line grow at Leo's distinctive taco truck. Office workers from the university were drawn like moths to the flames painted on the side. When the Lemon Basil Bistro burned down, the insurance company balked at paying Leo while the criminal investigation was pending, so he scraped together enough money to start Five Alarm Tacos. He thought the name was a hilarious nod to the fact that his restaurant had burned down. Rob had nearly had a heart attack when he heard the name and tried his best to convince Leo to change it. Rob had been right—the local paper loved the irony and never failed to mention Five Alarm Tacos by name when they wrote about the arson charges and the upcoming trial.

  However, Leo had also been right because all that publicity had led to his success. He was making more money than ever thanks to his low overhead and a steady stream of people who wanted to eat at the infamous taco truck. That success would end, of course, if he were convicted and thrown in the slammer.

  Miranda eyed a couple passing by with plates of nachos as if she might jump them, then she turned back to me. "Think it's time to call in Burton?"

  "No!"

  She raised an eyebrow.

  "The trial's in two weeks. What if he takes off?"

  I was spared from answering that question by Leo's approach with a tray of food, most of which he set in front of Miranda. Leo sat next to us as we dug into the fragrant tacos. The number three turned out to be chicken mole tacos with cotija cheese and crunchy jalapeño coleslaw. It was a good choice.

  "So what did you need to talk to me about?" Leo asked, sipping on a large iced tea.

  "Why won't Eddie Lucas talk to us?" I asked, rolling up my last taco and preparing to finish it off. Miranda was well into her second plate of tacos and had already finished off the fish sliders. I had managed to grab one without losing a finger, but it had been close. The woman was serious about her Mexican food.

  Leo gave a long sigh. "I honestly don't know. I mean, he's always been a good mentor and business partner. He could tell the jury how much it meant to me to have my own restaurant. That's why I really think he should testify."

  I nodded and bit into the taco, savoring the sweet, spicy flavor.

  "He doesn't seem to want to testify for you, Leo," Miranda said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. "In fact, he seems really determined not to."

  Leo shook his head. "I just don't know why."

  I finished the last of my taco and pushed the paper plate away, then pulled the flyer out of my pocket. "Did you know that there's a new business going into your old restaurant building?"

  Leo took the flyer, read it, and for the first time, I saw a bit of a cloud cross his perpetually sunny expression. "No, I didn't know that. Well, it's a good location with off-street parking, so it's pretty desirable. I'm sure Eddie wouldn't have any trouble renting it out again."

  "Eddie owns it?" Miranda asked, stacking her now-empty plates.

  Leo nodded. "Yeah. When I opened the bistro, the neighborhood was a little shady. But in only two years, that whole area changed. The old bus station was demolished, and those new lofts went up, and it just really breathed a lot of life into that district."

  Leo's bistro had been on Chalk Quarry Boulevard, a busy four-lane street that my dad used to call "Chalk Outline Boulevard." It was smack in the middle of a four-block area that my mother would refuse to drive through when I was a kid. If we did have to cross through that neighborhood, she'd lock the doors and speed through the yellow lights. The real estate market eventually drove out the vagrants and bad elements, and the neighborhood was now fairly well gentrified, with Eddie's old restaurant sitting on that border between hipster renaissance
and run down.

  "Eddie was trying to find a better location for the restaurant, but everything he came up with just wasn't as good a spot as where we were," he said.

  "Why were you considering moving?"

  "Oh, I didn't want to. Eddie did. He was my silent partner and, well, you know, he's got a lot of experience with restaurants," Leo said. "It just didn't seem like a good idea. I mean, Lemon Basil Bistro was doing really good where it was. Why mess with that?"

  "So he just never found a good alternative?" Miranda asked.

  "No, and I finally just told him not to waste his energy on it," Leo said. "He wasn't forcing me to move or anything. I mean, I had a six-year lease, so I didn't have to go."

  I tapped the flyer again. "Do you know anything about Red Silk Ribbon?" I asked.

  Leo blushed and shook his head. "Uh, no. I mean, I know about it. But I don't shop there."

  "How about Rita?" I asked. I didn't know Rita's last name, but if Eddie was borrowing her car, they obviously knew each other.

  Leo nodded. "Eddie had a friend named Rita. I met her once at the bistro."

  "Tall, with long, red hair?" Miranda asked.

  He nodded again.

  "Is she Eddie's girlfriend?"

  "Oh no, Eddie's married."

  Oh really? Miranda and I exchanged a look. Eddie was hanging out with a striking redhead who owned a lingerie shop, borrowing her car, and having lunch in a pied-a-terre with her—and was married to someone else. Fascinating.

  "Hey, you guys, I'm so glad you came by," Leo said with a wide smile as he stood up. "I've got to go back to work. I really appreciate all you're doing for me. I just know that there's no way I'll get convicted."

  He gave us each a hug and jogged back to the taco truck, where the line of customers had tripled.

  Miranda cleared our plates, and our table was quickly claimed by lunch-hour diners.

  "Now what?" Miranda asked as we walked back to the Golf Ball.

  "Drop me at my bike—then let's meet at your place. I could use a swim."

  "Sounds good to me," she said.

  The first thing I noticed when I retrieved my bike from the Bean & Biscuit's parking lot was that Eddie's lime green muscle car was gone. The second was the banner stretched across the front window of the Red Silk Ribbon, announcing that all inventory was discounted for a moving sale. Rita was wasting no time getting into her new space.

  After a quick stop at home to shower and throw on a swimsuit, shorts, and a tank top, I headed to Miranda's house, opting to drive my Miata instead of the bike. Miranda was living in what had been her childhood home, where she'd been raised by her aunt, Marie Parsons. When Marie had gotten engaged to Rob, she'd moved out to his small ranch on the edge of the county, and Miranda had just moved from the apartment over the garage into the two-bedroom bungalow. It was an adorable, if a bit dated, house and she was damn lucky to have a place so close to work. The garage apartment was now occupied by FBI Special Agent Jake Barnes—another reason that Miranda was damn lucky.

  I let myself into the house and heard the shower running in the bathroom off Miranda's bedroom. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a tall iced tea. Through the kitchen window, I could see a shirtless Jake Barnes dragging the skimmer through the crystal blue pool water and shook my head. It was a very fine view, indeed.

  I opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the patio.

  "Hey there, Special Agent Pool Boy."

  Jake looked up and grinned. "Hey, Sarah."

  Behind him in the shade of a large lemon tree, Jake's massive dog, Hank, raised his head and gave a gentle woof. Then he stretched out, expelled a long sigh, and closed his eyes. Hank may look like a good deterrent to anyone thinking of breaking in, but he was the least aggressive dog I'd ever met. The poor thing had immediately ceded power to Marie's cat, Kvetch, an angry orange tomcat who stayed at the house. Of course, so had Miranda and Jake. That was one mean cat.

  "Miranda has you taking care of the pool now?" I joked, pulling a chaise lounge from the shade of the patio cover closer to the pool.

  "Gotta earn my keep," Jake said. "What trouble are you two getting into today?"

  "Nothing. But the day's not over yet."

  He laughed and shook his head.

  "Hey, why aren't you at work fighting crime?" I asked, settling into the chair.

  "I can take a day off once in a while. Crime will still be there when I get back," he said, scooping out the last leaf from the water.

  Behind me, I heard the slider open. On the other side of the pool, Jake looked up and froze for a moment, then swallowed hard. The pool skimmer slipped from his hands and into the water. I turned to see Miranda walk out in her new bikini. Her blonde hair glowed in the sun and her eyes were the same shade of blue as the tiny swimsuit—a vision of a California girl come to life. I wasn't sure what she'd paid for it, but it was worth the price to see Jake lose his cool at the sight of it.

  "Jake, you don't have to do that," Miranda said, pulling a lounger next to mine.

  "I don't mind," he said, dropping to his knee to retrieve the skimmer. He tossed it aside and sat on the edge of the pool, his legs in the water. "Aren't you two supposed to be at work?"

  "We were, but we failed at our mission," Miranda said with a pout.

  "What mission?" Jake slipped into the water and swam across the pool to where we were, coming to rest with his arms on the tiled edge. He looked up at Miranda with a heat that made me feel like a third wheel.

  "We tried to serve a subpoena on a reluctant witness," I said.

  "You could have the sheriff's department serve him," Jake said. "Or get Burton to do it. He probably does that all the time."

  I waved a hand to cut off that suggestion. "I do this all the time. I can do it."

  "How long have you been trying to get this guy?"

  "Two weeks. He really doesn't want to testify."

  "What would you do, if you were trying to serve him?" Miranda asked. Her stylish sunglasses weren't enough to disguise the pure lust in her eyes.

  "Sounds like you need to know why he won't testify. Then you can figure out how to convince him to change his mind," Jake said. "Why do you want to call a hostile witness anyway?"

  I shrugged. "Leo says he's got important information about the restaurant's history and its future plans. He was a minority partner in the venture, so he knows about Leo's plans and how invested he was in its future."

  I stood up and went to the diving board at the far end of the pool. I adjusted my suit, then realized that the only other two people in the backyard couldn't take their eyes off each other. I could be standing there stark naked, and they'd never notice. I sighed, then dove into the pool. The cool water enveloped me, and it was as refreshing as I'd imagined earlier. I swam the length of the pool before coming up to take a breath.

  I pulled myself out and grabbed my towel from the chaise, then plopped down on the cushions. Jake had a good point. If we didn't know Eddie's motivation for dodging court testimony, we'd be taking a risk putting him on the stand. So why was he trying to avoid testifying?

  "This is that arson case, right?" Jake asked.

  "Yeah," I said, giving him a stern look. "The feds aren't interested in it, are they?"

  He grinned and shook his head. "No. The locals have it taken care of. Doesn't sound like a federal matter. I only know what I read in the newspaper."

  Well, at least Leo had that going for him—he wasn't at risk of heading to federal prison any time soon. But state prison was still a real possibility. The fire investigator was convinced it was arson. Our expert would testify that it couldn't be determined whether the fire was purposefully set. The accelerant that the fire department investigator identified was Sterno, the liquid fuel used in the little cans that warmed catering trays, and there were plenty of those in the restaurant. Leo had been using a small torch for the dessert special that night—a Meyer lemon crème brûlée. In combination, that could cause a fire.

/>   Unfortunately, Burton hadn't been able to find any witnesses to corroborate Leo's alibi. He swore that he left the restaurant by eleven o'clock and was the last one to leave, and that he was home alone until he got a call a little after one in the morning about the fire. The fire broke out around midnight. As usual, Burton had done a very thorough investigation, speaking to every single employee, even the ones who weren't working that night and a couple who had been fired or quit before the fire. Though they all liked Leo, none of them offered any information that pointed the investigation in another direction.

  The sun sparkled off the water, and my swimsuit was dry in minutes from the midday heat. Miranda joined Jake in the pool and kept up a steady flirty banter. While I appreciated that two beautiful people were discovering their mutual attraction, I didn't need to hang around to witness it. Plus, maybe if I got out of the way, they'd finally stop mooning over each other and just do the deed already.

  I stood up and wrapped my towel around my waist. "I'm going to go find Burton and see if he knows anything more about Eddie's history that might help us."

  Miranda managed to rip her eyes away from Jake's well-muscled chest to wave good-bye to me. I put my shorts and shirt on over my nearly dry swimsuit, found my flip-flops, and let myself out. It was a short drive to the law firm, and I saw that Burton's obscenely expensive sports car was in its reserved spot, so I pulled into our parking lot.

  The office was cool and quiet, and from the lobby, I could hear Burton on the phone. While I waited for him to hang up, I wandered back toward my desk. Rob's office was dark, the blinds closed. Theresa's desk in the reception area was cleaned off, and the night message light flashed, so she was clearly gone for the day too. I went to the filing cabinets and pulled out Leo's file, flipping to the investigative notes from Burton.

  Nothing had changed since the last time I'd reviewed the memos of his interviews with potential witnesses. They all thought the world of Leo but knew that he was worried about the bistro's future. Even a guy whom Leo had fired two weeks earlier had nice things to say about his former boss. I made a mental note to go talk to a waiter who couldn't remember to show up for his shifts. Maybe he knew more about the fire than he'd let on to Burton. If he were angry, he'd have motive to burn the place down. At least more motive than I could see for Leo.