Polkacide (14 page)

I slumped in my chair. "With Dad's
killer on the loose? You've got to be kidding."

She shook her head. "According to
Lou's will, it's up to us."

"So is finding
whoever
murdered
him."

"We'll just have to do both at the
same time." She walked to the next desk, the one with the new
laptop computer, and sat down.

At that moment, the front door of
Polka Central slammed shut, and we both looked up.

Eddie Jr.'s voice called out
beyond the curtain, in the gymnasium area. "Peg? Lot? Marco?
Marco?"

Peg dropped her voice. "We
probably shouldn't discuss the murder with him just
yet."

I nodded in agreement.

Eddie Jr. was still calling
out. "Marco? Marco?"

She shot me a quick, sad
smile, then shouted an answer to Eddie Jr. "Polo!"

"
There
you are!" I heard Eddie's
footsteps run across the gym floor and up the stairs to the stage.
"Thought you could hide from me, huh?" His feet thumped over the
stage boards, and then he thrust his head between the gray
curtains. "A-ha!" He gave us a look of exaggerated villainy,
complete with bulging eyes. "No one expects the Polish
Inquisition!"

Peg's smile faded fast.
Suddenly, she was all business. "I was just getting ready to call
in Glynne on her day off. I thought you were only going to be
a
half
hour
late."

"Sorry. It took longer than
I thought." Eddie walked through into the office area and cast a
look in my direction. He was carrying a tall paper cup of some kind
of coffee or tea from one of the chains. "I had to drive Dad to the
doctor. His car's in the shop."

I nodded. "Nothing serious, I
hope."

"For the
car
, but not
Dad.
" Eddie strolled over, sipping
his drink, and nodded at the coffee pot on the desk. "Please tell
me you didn't drink that."

I held up a thumb and
forefinger, pinched close together but not touching. "Just a
little."

Eddie grabbed my shoulder
and shook it. "Then for God's sake, woman, we need to get that
stomach pumped
stat.
Peg's coffee can be
fatal.
"

"
I
made it, actually." I shrugged.
"But it
is
pretty
awful."

"I swear there's a curse on
this place, Lot." Eddie raised his eyes heavenward and spoke
dramatically. "No matter
who
makes the coffee, it always
sucks.
"

Peg cleared her throat and
got up from the desk. I could see she'd straightened her hair and
red polka-dotted glasses. "Lottie and I were just talking about
Polkapourri, and how we're in the middle of crunch time mode. Not
to mention
Kocham Taniec
and Polish Fly."

Eddie leaned down and
smirked. "In other words, time to break out the hammocks and piña
coladas." He said it in a Groucho Marx voice and waggled his
eyebrows and an imaginary cigar. "Allow me to be the first to fluff
your pillows, ma'am."

"As I was
saying.
" Peg's tone was
completely no-nonsense. "We've got
lots
of work to do, and not enough
time to
do
it. So
let's get
cracking.
"

"Okay, boss." Eddie stopped clowning.
"What's first on the agenda?"

She pointed at him. "Confirm
all bookings for Polkapourri. You need to lock in every band and
find replacements for whoever bails out."

Eddie gave her a crisp salute. "I'm on
it, boss."

"Plus, you need to contact
the new leader of Polish Fly and set his first practice session
with the band for tomorrow night."

"New leader?" Eddie raised his
eyebrows. "Who's that?"

"
You
." Peg planted her hands on her
hips and thrust her chin forward. "Got a problem with that?"
Eddie's jaw dropped open. "But that means Dad and I will be leading
different bands at Polkapourri."

Peg nodded. "And I
want
both
bands
scheduled for the same
set
to close the festival."

I watched Eddie's face as
the full import dawned on him. Lou had started Polish Fly after
leaving Eddie Sr.'s band decades ago. The two groups had been arch
rivals ever since, though Polish Fly had found the most success. It
was like Mick Jagger's son was joining the Beatles...but with
polka.

I wondered how Eddie Sr.
would feel about that. Hurt? Angry? Betrayed?

Or was it what he'd wanted all
along?

Eddie Jr. shook his head
slowly. "This could get ugly."

"It could also be just what
we need to give Polkapourri a shot in the arm." Peg clapped her
hands together. "Unless you don't think you can
handle
it."

Eddie sighed and rolled his
eyes. "I didn't say
that
."

"As for you, Lottie..." She
picked up a thick red folder and threw it down on the desk in front
of me. "You have an even more important job to do for Polkapourri
this morning."

"Okay." Booking bands and
dealing with artists was right up my alley. I figured my experience
with the club would come in handy. "What's the job?" I might even
manage to enjoy my work a little.

Or not. "Permits." Peg
patted the red folder. "Could you contact the appropriate city
offices and make sure they've all been renewed?"

I opened the folder and
flipped through the pile of pages inside--one permit after another
after another, all crammed with fine print. "You mean they
might
not
be? With
the event less than a week away?"

"Always good to
double-check," said Peg. "We had a
major
problem with a beer-selling
permit last year, and it nearly shut down the festival."

"All right then." I pulled out the
first page and started reading. "Consider it done."

"Great." Peg dipped down and
whispered in my ear. "And we'll talk about that other matter at
lunch."

I nodded and kept reading.

"What about you, boss?" said Eddie.
"What are you working on?"

"Spreadsheets, e-mail,
websites, you name it." Peg sat down in front of her laptop and
started typing. "Making up for lost time on the computer
front."

As her fingers rattled away
on the keyboard, I looked up from the folder of permits. She seemed
pretty energized. The coffee must have done the trick.

If I hadn't known better, I
might not have realized how upset she was about losing Polish Lou.
I might not have guessed there were storm clouds under the
surface.

And a murderer on the
loose.

Chapter 22

I couldn't wait for lunch to roll
around so we could get back to the most important work at hand:
looking into Dad's death.

Peg drove us in her
musty-smelling white Oldsmobile to Stush's Diner, and we grabbed a
corner booth. We got there early, ten till twelve, so the lunch
rush was just kicking into gear.

"Ladies!" Stush made a
beeline for us before our butts hit the seats. "So good to see you
both again so soon!"

"Thanks, Uncle Stush." I smiled and
scooted into the booth. "Good to see you, too."

Peg was looking across the
diner, at the wall-mounted white dry-erase board on which the
specials were scrawled. "How's the stuffed pepper soup
today?"

"Fabulous." Stush pressed the
fingertips and thumb of one hand together, then kissed them all at
once and fanned his hand open wide. It was the kind of gesture you
might expect from a French chef talking about his exotic cookery.
"Made fresh this morning, as always."

"I'll have a cup of that and
half a club sandwich." Peg nodded and sat down across from
me.

"What about you, hon?" Stush
trained his sad brown eyes on me. "We've got loaded baked potato
soup today. And we only have chicken and waffles once a week, you
know."

I had a soft spot for both,
and he knew it. "Chicken and waffles, please."

"You got it, hon." Stush reached down
and gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. He'd always had quite a grip
to go with those huge hands of his. "Hot coffee's on the way, too,
my dears."

"
Dziękuję
, Stush," said Peg, which
meant,
Thank you.

Stush smiled and bowed.
"
Proszę bardzo
." I
didn't know much Polish, but I knew that meant,
You're welcome.

Then he shuffled off to the
kitchen, leaving Peg and I to get down to business.

I took a look around. There
was no one in an adjacent booth yet, but I leaned forward and kept
my voice down anyway. "So what do we do next?"

Peg adjusted her owl's-eye
glasses, lifting the polka-dotted frames up the bridge of her nose.
"Talk to Eddie Sr.? Ask him about the argument he had with
Lou?"

"Maybe." I frowned. "But if he had
something to do with Lou's death, won't we be tipping our hand? We
might lose any chance we have of getting the truth out of
him."

She sighed heavily and
slumped, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin on
her hand. "Then what do you suggest we do?"

It was the very question I'd been
thinking about all day. "Go to the cops?"

Peg's gaze drifted, staring
off into space. "But we don't have much evidence, do we? Just one
of many anonymous death threat letters. The rest is hearsay, right?
I noticed Lou was acting strange, and your sister Charlie overhead
him fighting with Eddie Sr. at the Polish Falcons."

I shrugged. "Maybe the police could
find more evidence if they knew what we know."

"I'm still not crazy about
the idea." Peg winced and rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't
know how receptive they'll be."

"You mean because..." I stopped when I
noticed Stush standing beside the table watching us. He had a full
cup of steaming coffee in each giant paw.

Grinning, he put the cups down in
front of us, then tossed a handful of liquid creamers over the
table like tumbling dice. "Enjoy your java, ladies."

"Thanks, Stush." As he
turned and ambled away, I leaned toward Peg and lowered my voice
again. "You mean the cops won't be receptive because of the lack of
evidence?"

"That," said Peg, "and the
police chief is my ex-boyfriend."

My eyes shot wide open. I
leaned back, then forward, then back again. "Otto Duranko was
your
boyfriend
?"

She sighed and nodded. "He
left his
wife
for
me. Then I left
him
for Lou."

I was having trouble
wrapping my head around the idea...and the images that came with
it. Otto was in his sixties, at least, and had always been
extremely overweight--half a ton or more, if the rumors were true.
He had a reputation of being a big softy...and, at the same time,
having an itchy trigger finger to end all itchy trigger
fingers.

"Seriously?" I leaned
forward again. "
Otto
Duranko
?"

"He's never forgiven me,"
said Peg. "You wouldn't believe the number of speeding and parking
tickets I get."

I shook my head hard to
banish the images of Peg and Otto's romance. "What if I spoke to
Otto without you?"

"He wasn't a fan of your
father's." Peg reached for her coffee. "Lou was the man who stole
me away."

"Well, that sucks." I grabbed a
creamer container, peeled it open, and poured the contents into my
cup, then stirred.

"Tell me about it." She rolled her
eyes while sipping her coffee. "Now you know why I haven't gone to
the police about Lou yet."

I mulled things over as I
added a packet of sugar and raised my cup for a drink. The Otto
situation could be a minor bump in the road--or a major road block.
Grudge or no grudge, he had a job to do...but bad blood like this
could kill his motivation to succeed on our behalf.

Even so, law enforcement
could open doors that we couldn't...had access to resources we
didn't. It would be better to include them in the equation if we
had the chance. "I think we need to try to talk Otto into it. If he
says no, he says no."

Peg tossed her head forward
and swung it from side to side, clawing at her afro with both
hands. "That won't be
all
he says." She let out a heavy sigh and dropped her
forehead to rest on the table.

If someone had told me a few
days ago that I'd feel sorry for Polish Peg, I'd've said they were
nuts. But I did. "Hey, don't worry about it." Reaching across the
table, I patted her head through the 'fro. "Like I said, I'll go it
alone."