It sounded a lot like he mumbled “lucky” under his breath, but given that he was smart enough not to say it with his full voice, I went ahead and let it slide.
“Alright. If you figure out anything else interesting, let me know.”
“Will do,” he agreed, yawning again.
So, she was working for Colin’s parents. Who must have been aware that she was living with Colin. Did they think she was there willingly? That she was Colin’s girlfriend or something like that?
Or, worse yet, did they know the truth? Were they complacent in her suffering?
After I was relatively sure that no one was paying any special attention to me, I shrugged out of my jacket, removed my tie, and slipped my watch into my pocket.
This wasn’t the neighborhood for suits. I didn’t want to draw any undue attention to myself.
I was still a little over-dressed, but it was the best I could do without heading back to the hotel to change, so I climbed out of the car, and made my way toward the deli.
“Don’t you look nice?” I was greeted by an older lady behind the counter who bore a striking resemblance to her sons.
Rizzo, in the flesh.
“I was doing some business in the city, and was asking where to get something great to eat. Someone pointed me in this direction,” I lied, giving her a nod, wondering where the hell Cammie was.
It wasn’t exactly a big shop.
There were two small tables in the front near the windows, and the rest of the place was behind the glass-front refrigerated cabinets that showed off various meats and sides.
On the wall behind the counter was a row of different breads and rolls and a chalkboard menu listing “neighborhood favorite” sandwiches and subs.
“Really? That’s awesome. Do you know their name? I want to give them a free sandwich for the recommendation.”
“Oh, ah, Michael,” I said, deciding that a common name was the best bet.
“Michael… Michael… oh! Michael Pritchett. I hear he moved up in the world. So, what can we get for you?”
“I’ll have two of the Eight Avenue sandwiches,” I said.
“Well, I will get that made for you,” she said just as the employee door to the back opened and out walked Cammie.
Her head lifted, gaze finding mine, and her eyes widening.
My gaze slid to Rizzo’s back, giving Cammie a pointed look, then touching my finger to the side of my nose, a silent entreaty to keep things secret.
“Can I get any sides for you?” Cammie asked, voice customer-service-chipper.
“Why not? Load up your favorite sides for two,” I suggested as I moved toward the counter, grabbing one of their business cards, and pulling a pen out of the mug sitting near the register.
Making sure Rizzo wasn’t looking, I quickly jotted down a note.
It’s a go. Meet?
Cammie brought one side over toward the register, glancing down at the note, eyes widening.
“Do you want your toppings Rizzo’s way?” Rizzo asked, looking over at me, which made Cammie rush to grab another side.
“Absolutely,” I agreed, giving her a smile.
When she turned back, I jotted down another quick note.
I’m going to get a phone to you. When?