“Alex?”
Ned’s head popped up through the pass-through. “What are you doing here?” he said.
“Uh, I live here, remember? Why aren’t we open?”
“Uh, I think because of the police tape and all? You think?” He was trying for sarcastic, but the joke hadn’t reached his eyes. “I didn’t get the message in time.”
“You have something on the grill? I’m starving. What message?”
“Just a burger order that came through before I could shut down the system.”
“Whatmessage?” I repeated.
“Oh,” Ned said. “That Alex wasn’t opening today. Because of…”
“Just cancel the burger order. Text them and tell them we’re closed. Let me have it.”
“Figured Alex wouldn’t mind the sale,” Ned said. “I’ll put a fresh one on the grill for you to finish.”
“The order’s not fresh?” I walked back to the kitchen. The order was already packed up into one of the hated gray to-go containers, sitting on the counter. “Is it pickup? Ned, the doors werelocked.”
“It’sdelivery, local, but I’ll do it on my way out. I’ll put a burger on for you. Hold on.”
Ned turned, opened the walk-in, and was swallowed whole. A puff of cold air blew at me as the door shut behind him.
I looked down at the delivery slip, then did a double take.
The address for delivery was the empty storefront next door.
Oh,really.
I swept the container into a plastic bag and swung it by its handles through the pub to the front door and out. Next door, the paper in the windows sagged, dark. I knocked on the door and tried the handle.
But someone had to be inside. Who had called in the order?
I went back into the pub and through to the back. As I passed through the service door, I thought I heard Ned calling for me. I’d been looking for a reason to have a chat with the new neighbors. Who werethese people who were always banging around at all hours, who never showed their faces? Whose truck was always, always—
Yep. There it was, sitting crooked, running.
At the back door, I pounded until my knuckles hurt. Nothing. They’d ordered the food, hadn’t they?
I had a master key to the building on my key ring. How much trouble would I be in if I used it? Finally, I tried the handle. It was unlocked.
I pulled it open and poked my head in. “Hello?” I said. “Hey, I have your order from the pub.”
I read the slip, checked the address again. “Prepaid? No refunds.”
Had they canceled the order, maybe? Ned had pointed out this loophole in the system before. What were people thinking when they did that? McPhee’s was out the cost, and no one got fed.
We’d had a few of these lately. Ned was right, these food delivery services were killing us. We had to work with them, because customers liked them. But we got a smaller percentage of the take if the food was ordered this way. More mistakes, too, or the driver showed up late and your fries were missing. And then people went online to complain aboutus.
This food, for instance, was getting cold. “Hello?” I called.
Nothing. I stepped inside.
Over in this half of the building, they had the same setup as our side: the alcove with the open stairs that led up to an apartment that was the mirror of Oona’s. The fire door to the first-floor storefront was the same as ours, too, but propped open.
Oh, if fire inspectors caught that, that was Citation City.
