The Devil's Eye by J.R. Rain & Matthew S. Cox

Author:J.R. Rain & Matthew S. Cox [Rain, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2017-11-27T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Karmic Return

I’m too distracted by thoughts of Alan Chan potentially being involved to realize what Rick intended… until we drive into the parking lot of Gino’s Pizza. Aha! Mixing work and lunch break.

We head inside and order a pair of slices each. Plain for me, the works for Rick.

The guy behind the counter looks well into his fifties and is probably at least part Italian, so I venture, “Are you Gino?”

He smiles and declares, “The one and only,” before leaning close and whispering, “at least in this building.” He throws his head back and laughs. I do, too; his laughter is infectious.

“Would you mind if we asked you a few questions about one of your employees?” I hold my badge up when the chuckling subsides.

“Oh, boy.” Gino leans back, fuzzy eyebrows up. “Hope it’s nothing bad.”

“Mostly just looking to verify some information. Do you have a man named Alan Chan working for you as a delivery driver?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Alan’s a good guy. Always on time. No complaints… except one nutjob.”

Rick tilts his head. “Nutjob?”

Gino nods while using that long spatula thingie to move our slices around in the oven. “Yeah, this one kook keeps pestering him. Calls him direct to place orders, loses his mind if the pie takes longer than a half hour to get to him.” He sets the slice-retriever tool up on top of the oven and faces us again. “No threats or anything. Guy’s harmless, but damn annoying.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say. “You ever see the guy here in person or spending any time with Alan?”

“Oh, no.” Gino shakes his head. “I think Alan might break his nose if he cornered him here.”

“Alan’s violent?” asks Rick.

“Naw.” Gino waves us off. “But if a guy like that customer called me three times a week for a month, then found me at work too, I’d probably pop him one. We all would.”

Rick chuckles. “Yeah.”

Gino pulls our lunch out of the oven, arranges it on paper plates, and sets it on the counter. “Here you go. On me, detectives.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling.

We move to a booth table and throw ideas back and forth about our theories. Rick still thinks the kids are worth looking into. Something gnaws at me about Alan, but I don’t say anything about it here in case Gino might overhear.

In a fit of decent-but-not-awesome timing, my cell phone rings while I’m dusting slice one’s crumbs off my hands, before I can start on slice two. A torrent of shrieking assaults my ears when I answer, and after a moment, I understand it’s Colleen, my fellow coven witch, freaking out because her latest shithead boyfriend got into an accident and he’s in the hospital.

“Slow down, hon. Take a couple breaths, and try that again,” I say.

Colleen near-hyperventilates in the background for a few seconds before sniffling. “Okay… okay. Justin was comin’ over to my place. He wanted to take me to this little concert at a club, but I really can’t stand the kind of music they play so I didn’t want to go.

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