Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(25)

She stops what she’s doing and turns to look me up and down. Her voice softens. “More importantly, are you sure you’re okay? That looks like it hurts.”

She obviously hasn’t seen anything in the news or heard any local gossip about three dead guys found in the alley behind Buddy’s Diner. But the police were at the hospital, which means they definitely knew something. Liam said the situation had been taken care of…but what exactly did he mean?

Like suppressing news stories taken care of?

Like paying off the cops taken care of?

Like, maybe, removing bodies from a crime scene?

“Tru?” says Ellie, sounding concerned.

“Yep. I’m okay.” I say it firmly then turn away, focusing on the coffee pot. “I just really need some coffee.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything else. Seriously. You should probably take a few days off, too. Let that bruising heal up a little before you go back to work.”

This is when I remember that Liam has already spoken to Buddy about that very thing.

“Hey, can I borrow your cell? My purse is at work, but I want to call my boss.”

“Sure.” Ellie gestures toward the foyer. “My bag’s on the table.”

“Thanks.” I pour myself a cup of coffee, then retrieve Ellie’s cell from her purse. I head back into my bedroom, perch on the side of my bed, and dial the diner.

“Thanks for calling Buddy’s,” says a cheerful female voice. “How can I help you?”

It’s Lisa, one of the girls who works day shift on weekends and occasionally subs for Carla if she’s sick. “Hey, Lisa. It’s Tru. Is Buddy there?”

“Hey, Tru! No, Buddy already came and went.”

“Shoot. Do you have his cell number, by any chance? It’s in my purse, but I left it in my locker. I need to talk to him.”

“Hang on a sec.” I hear her rummaging around on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I found it. You ready?”

“Let me get a pen. Okay, go ahead.” She reads off the number. I scribble it on a piece of note paper, then thank her. Then I ask tentatively, “So…how are things there?”

“Ugh. Same old same old. I’ve got this regular who comes in every Sunday after church and lectures me over his pancakes about my relationship with god. Apparently, the butterfly tattoo on my wrist has him concerned for the state of my soul.”

“The regular or god?”

She laughs. “I doubt the supreme being gives a hoot about what people ink into their skin. If he does, I’m not interested in getting into heaven. Gotta go, hun, some bearded old guy with a parrot on his shoulder is waiting to be seated.”

“Good luck with that.”

She drops her voice, imitating a pirate. “Ahoy, matey, there be a salty sea dog dead ahead!”

She hangs up, leaving me shaking my head as I dial Buddy’s number.

Obviously, Lisa knows nothing about what happened in the alley the other night, which makes me think nobody else at Buddy’s does, either. Gossip normally spreads through the place like wildfire.

Somehow, Liam managed to keep three dead guys a secret. But how?

And where do Diego and Carla think I disappeared to that night?

Hopefully, Buddy will provide me with some answers. He picks up, sounding guarded.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Buddy. It’s Tru.”

Thundering silence. Odd from a man who chatters non-stop to everyone and everything, including himself, random strangers, and the pigeons he feeds in the park.

“Um, did I catch you at a good time?”

“Any time you want to call me is a good time, dear.”

The “dear” gives me pause. Buddy’s a friendly man, but he isn’t prone to endearments or pet names. I’ve only ever heard him call his wife by her first name, and they’ve been married for fifty-two years.

“Okay. Um. Great. So…I guess you already know what happened on my last shift.”

More silence, this one vast and empty, like outer space. After a long time, Buddy clears his throat. He says, “Are you all right?”

Nice evasion. “Yes. A bit bruised up, but nothing that won’t heal.”

His exhalation sounds genuinely relieved. “Thank heavens.”

I wait, but he doesn’t add more or ask any other questions, which seems strange. “I will need a few days off work, though. Which I take it you already know?”

He says hastily, “Yes, yes, take as much time as you need, dear. As much time as you need. The most important thing is your health. In fact, if you feel too traumatized to return to work, I’ll make sure you get disability and unemployment.”

I’m not sure I could legally get both at the same time, but he’s still talking.

“And anything else you need. We could even keep you on payroll until you find another job, if you prefer. I’ll cover all your medical bills, of course. Just send them directly to me.”

“I’m not too traumatized to come back to work.”

“Oh. Well, then.”

I can’t decide if he sounds relieved or disappointed. This is getting weirder by the minute.

“I appreciate the offer though. About the medical bills, too. That’s very generous of you.” I frown. “Although, to be honest, I don’t know if the hospital even knows how to contact me. Liam seemed to handle everything.”