Page 16 of Property of Player

My father flips over the thick diner cup in its matching saucer, indicating he wants some of the coffee from the carafe she carries.

I do the same, and she fills us both up, her eyes shifting to me with a smile. “This must be your son. Am I right?”

“Yep,” Gage replies.

“Looks just like you,” she adds. “What can I get you?”

My father clears his throat. “You mentioned Jimmy…”

“Yeah. Is he joining you?”

My father shakes his head. “I’m afraid not, Violet.”

The smile fades from her face, replaced by a crease on her forehead.

“You a friend of his?” I ask.

Her gaze shifts to me. “We’re friendly. The girls and I have gone bowling with him a time or two. Why?”

Gage drags a hand down his face. “Guess you’ll find out soon enough. He was murdered sometime during the early morning hours.”

She pales and lowers onto the edge of the red leather seat next to me. “Murdered? I can’t believe it. Not Jimmy. He was such a nice man. He always made me laugh.”

“His son found him this morning,” Gage informs her, studying her reaction. “You know of anybody who might have had a problem with him?”

“No. I mean, none who would want to kill him. He didn’t have any partners, did he? And his ex-wife is dead from what I hear.”

Gage sips his coffee. “He ever talk to you about his day?”

“Sure. Most regulars do.”

“He ever complain about any deals that went south? Any issues he had with anyone?”

“No.”

“Did he have any girlfriends I don’t know about? Did he ever come in here with anyone? Someone married, perhaps?”

Her eyes get big. “Do you think it was a jealous husband?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, there was this one time about a month ago that he was having lunch with an attractive blonde woman. I overheard them arguing. I didn’t catch all of it, but I think they were seeing each other, and I think she was married.”

“You catch her name?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her at Elegance Salon. I think she manages the place.”

My father’s gaze connects with mine, and I pull out my phone. I search the website and find a staff photo. “She in this picture?”

Violet leans closer and pulls her glasses from the top of her head, then points. “That one. That’s her.”

My father nods. “Thanks. It could have nothing to do with her, so don’t spread that around.”

“Of course.” She cocks her head. “You don’t think the son did it, do you?”

“Nope,” I say, answering that one. No use starting the gossip mill about the kid when I’m pretty sure he’s innocent.

Her eyes shift between us. “I hope they find out who did it. I won’t feel safe until they do.” She stands and takes out her pad. “So, what’ll you have?”