Not quite.
I ripped off a strip of yellow police tape barring the general manager’s office door and stepped inside. The computer was gone, the desk emptied and drawers strewn across the floor, chairs overturned.
Mel appeared in the doorway as I righted the furniture. “Before we handle any of this nonsense, would you care to explain the nonsense I walked into outside? You wouldn’t like it if I filled in the blanks on my own.”
“Nothing to explain,” I said, fighting a drawer to get it back into the desk. “You know how bad the traffic can get in the summer. We’ve been cited by the cops enough times to know better than to fuck with them.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“I didn’t realize the old bait shop had changed hands. Would’ve been nice to hear about that before now.” I shot a meaningful glance at Mel. “Would’ve been nice to hear a few other things too.”
She held up her hands. “I’ve never withheld my feelings about Marty sitting in the general manager’s seat and you know it. If I’d known anything about money laundering, I would’ve been the first one hollering at you. I would’ve dragged you back here by the ear if I had to and you damn well know it.”
I picked up the desk chair and pushed it in. I stood behind it, my arms folded. From here, I had a clear view of the bait shop and the crisp new Naked Provisions sign painted on the long side of the building in black and white. I could see Sunny and the others moving around the café, and Rainey’s crew scouring the patio. And I could see the crushed shell driveway sticking out like a bright white line which I was not to cross under any circumstance. As if I needed that reminder.
“We have to clean house,” I said.
Mel let out a huff. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“How far does this go?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know for sure but let me tell you what I do know. I have a lot of single moms driving shitbox cars and squeezing tips to cover daycare and doctor’s bills. There’s no way in hell they’re in on an operation like this. Not with the miles each year puts on them.”
“Let’s not make single moms squeeze tips to cover basic needs, okay? If we need to revisit the pay structure, we’ll do that. Minimize opportunities for people to feel like they need to get in on a scam to get by.”
“Consider it done.” She picked up a framed newspaper clipping about SPOC, leaned it against the wall with several more. “Some of the others? Maybe. I can see it if I look for it.”
“When the FBI raided this place”—saying it out loud made my stomach hurt—“they questioned everyone, right?”
Mel nodded.
“Do you think that was enough to scare off anyone who might’ve had a hand in this? If they weren’t arrested, why come back and risk it?”
She eyed me for a minute. “Yeah. I can see that.”
I turned away from the windows into the snow globe that was Sunny’s world. Who the hell had given her permission to grow up? And how the hell was I supposed to put this place back together, save my parents, and look after my brother while Sunny wasright there? Not only was touching off the table but looking would end one of the longest-running relationships of my life, though I couldn’t tear myself away from those windows.
“We’ll need to hire replacements immediately,” I said.
“When are you expecting to reopen?”
I ran a hand down my face. I was so tired I’d come out the other side into wired. I didn’t feel like I’d ever sleep again. It was horrible. Everything was horrible. “Tomorrow would be good,” I said, knowing it was unrealistic and Mel was going to blast me for it.
She cocked a brow. “Not sure how you expect me to pull that off but okay.”
“We’ve been down three days and that’s three too many. We can open tonight. Put me and Parker on the schedule. We’ll cover tables.”
“As much as I enjoy watching you on the floor, I think we’ve lived through enough trauma this week. Let’s keep you in the back offices where you can’t scowl the shit out of our customers.”
“But Parker you’ll take?”
She shrugged. “People like that kid. He’s a clusterfuck but he’s cute.”
That could be the Loew family motto. Translate it to Latin—if anyone knew a clusterfuck, it was the Romans—slap it on a crest with some oysters, a janky old RV, and a bucket of dirty baseballs. There it was, everything the Loews stood for. Grand, wasn’t it?
I drilled a knuckle into my temple. “Go clean out your team. Keep only the ones you trust.”
“What about Devon? Your dad hired him. He’s been here fortwelve years. He’s a grade-A asshole but customers love him.”
