LITMIR.BIZ

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the rage right now, even though I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that Walt Disney pioneered the concept long before I was born. The problem is, with land being at such a premium, the builders make their money on retail spaces, not parking spaces, so they don’t bother planning for adequate parking.

      The Jaguar had no problem, of course. Cars couldn’t get out of its way fast enough. Those same cars sneered at Binky. I lost two parking places to vehicles that cost more than the contents of my entire apartment before I got lucky. A Lexus started pulling out four cars down from me. I had to beat out a jerk with a dark-tinted SUV to claim the spot, but Binky’s tight turn radius outmaneuvered him, and I zipped in with ease. Not only that, but it was one of the few spots completely in the shade. I thanked the fates as I climbed out of the car, taking care that I was the only one who got out.

      Fortunately my camera was in the trunk. The last thing I wanted to do was dispute territory with the angry animal on the backseat. The box on the front seat gave me pause. I was pretty sure Sam One couldn’t eat his way through the heavy cardboard, but it sounded as if he was giving it a valiant try.

      There was no time to worry about that now. I grabbed my camera and set off after Elaine Russo before I lost her in the crowd. A tall, leggy blonde with short swingy hair and an aristocratic bearing, she strolled along as if she owned the place, looking neither left nor right.

      If her husband had thought this dinner was a cover for an assignation with a lover, he was going to be sadly disappointed. I was in a good position to watch her meet with three women close to her age—twenty-eight, according to what her husband had told me. Elaine was obviously a trophy wife. Albert was close to seventy if he was a day.

      I snapped several good shots of the women while I pretended to photograph the area. Elaine had her back to me the whole time. I willed her to turn around to no avail. I figured it didn’t matter since Russo knew what she looked like. It was the people she met with he wanted pictures of.

      The restaurant was surprisingly crowded for a Monday evening. People stood inside and outside talking in clusters. The four women were standing outside. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to get inside with them, but I decided it didn’t matter as long as I didn’t miss Elaine when she left. Besides, I felt self-conscious dressed the way I was. There were plenty of other people wearing shorts and T-shirts, but theirs hadn’t come from a discount store, nor were they stained with blood and smudged with dirt and cat hairs.

      At least the crowds offered plenty of cover for me. I stood wilting in the sun, trying to appear as though I belonged there and was waiting to meet someone. And as I was looking around for a place with a view to wait while they ate dinner, I glimpsed a dark-haired man moving away from me. Something about him reminded me of the sexy stranger with the Honda. To my profound disappointment, he stepped inside a store before I could get an unobstructed view of him.

      I shouldn’t really be wasting time ogling sexy strangers anyhow. My job was to keep my eye on Elaine, and it was a good thing I did. We’d only been standing there a matter of minutes when she did the unexpected. She left.

      With a wave and a smile she sauntered back to the parking lot, nearly catching me flat. Maybe Albert Russo hadn’t misread his wife after all. It appeared that this dinner with friends was nothing more than a setup for her real assignation.

      I felt a hum of excitement. I had no idea where she was going next, but this was bound to be the reason Russo had hired me. If she lost me now, my client would be most unhappy.

      The idea of a man with possible mobster ties being unhappy with me started a thread of tension mingling with my excitement. Tension quickly turned to panic when I nearly lost her coming out of the parking area. There was some sort of fender bender two rows over that caused enough confusion that she made the traffic light and I didn’t.

      I spent several minutes sweating buckets and muttering incoherently before I was able to charge down the road in the direction she had taken. I didn’t slow down until I came up on the white Jag driving at a leisurely pace a short distance in front of me. Breathing a considerable sigh of relief, I noted Elaine was talking to someone on her cell phone as she drove. The boyfriend to tell him she was on her way?

      Elaine was a careful driver. That came as something of a shock because the perky blonde didn’t strike me as the slow and methodical type. Still, I was deeply grateful as she all but led me by the hand, using her turn signals well ahead of time as we headed into downtown Cleveland near the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I was on more familiar territory now, but my relief was short lived. I was seriously underdressed for her next stop.

      Scarpanelli’s is a new Italian restaurant with a commanding view overlooking Lake Erie near the Burke Lakefront Airport. I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might be one of the places my client, Albert Russo, owns. I’d heard the food was superb if you didn’t mind dropping close to a hundred dollars on a meal. I minded. I didn’t even date guys with that sort of money.

      Assuming I could get the hostess to let me inside dressed in shorts, I still had a problem. I couldn’t afford an appetizer, let alone a meal in there. The restaurant was busy but not yet crowded. That would come later. Right now it was mostly wealthy families and the blue-rinse walker-and-cane crowd. Elaine would stand out in that mix. Too bad I wouldn’t be able to see who she was standing out to meet. This was not good. In fact, this was very bad.

      I debated calling Russo on the number he’d given me to explain the problem, but I couldn’t see him being particularly sympathetic. He was attending some important business dinner tonight and he’d hired me to do a job. He wouldn’t want excuses as to why I couldn’t do said job.

      From now on, I vowed, I’d keep a couple of outfits in the trunk for emergencies like this one. In the meantime I was stuck. I couldn’t follow her inside, so I’d have to see if I could find a place outside where I could peer in.

      No such luck. The entire back wall was elevated and composed of tinted glass. Patrons could see out over the lake, but I couldn’t see in.

      I was making my way around the building when I surprised a young man near the kitchen entrance. He was puffing a joint in a secluded nook near the trash bins. His body jerked, sharply startled when I appeared around the corner.

      “Hey. What are you doing here? You aren’t allowed back here.”

      At a guess, he was about seventeen. Based on his dark pants and white shirt I figured him for a busboy. I offered him a friendly smile.

      “You aren’t allowed to smoke weed either, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping you. Look, I’m not interested in your drug habits, I’m a private investigator,” I told him before he could get bent out of shape.

      “Yeah, right.”

      Whipping out my ID folder, I offered him proof. He studied it almost as carefully as Mickey had.

      “Hey, cool. You want a hit?”

      “No, thanks, but I could use your help.”

      “Yeah?”

      “There’s a woman inside the restaurant. Tall blonde, short hair with bangs. She’s wearing a pale blue skirt and a matching silk blouse.” I pulled out the picture of Elaine Russo and gave him a look. “She went in alone a few minutes ago. I need to know who she’s meeting in there. There’s a twenty in it for you if you can help me out.”

      Which would leave me exactly three dollars in cash until I found an ATM. But, hey, I’d get the money back under expenses.

      The kid smirked. He looked me up and down curiously. I could see he was intrigued.

      “How come you want to know about her?”

      I shrugged, trying for blasé. “It’s my job. Her husband hired me to see if she’s meeting another man.”

      “I thought P.I.’s were guys like they show on television.”

      “Lots of them are,” I agreed, trying not to grit my teeth. “Haven’t you ever heard of Charlie’s Angels?”

      His

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