The Day Will Come by Judy Clemens Page A

Good thing she was wearing jeans or I’d’a lost her. What do you guys hear about the bomb and the dead body and all?”
    Lucy sucked in her breath and Dennis slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, ma’am, forgot about the little one.”
    “I’m not little,” Tess said.
    “Of course you’re not,” Dennis said. “But moms protect their kids and don’t like bigmouths like me saying stupid things. I’m right sorry about blurtin’ that out.”
    How could Lucy be mad at him after that?
    “Anyhoo,” Dennis said, “you folks hear anything?”
    “Just that the lady in question was part of the band,” Lenny said. I guess Lucy hadn’t had time to fill him in on Jordan’s involvement, which was fine with me. If Dennis got a hold of that, the entire suburban area would know it by nightfall. “Don’t know nothing about the bomb.”
    “Yeah, us either,” Dennis said.
    “Do you know much about the band?” I asked. “Like why they switched drummers last year?”
    Dennis looked at his wife. “Didn’t we read something about that not too long ago? In a magazine or something?”
    “The paper,” Sheila said. I restrained myself from shouting, “She talks!”
    “That’s right,” Dennis said. “There was an article in the Inquirer last year when they came out with their new album. Last one with the old drummer. Blue Copper? Forget what the article said, though. You remember, honey?”
    Sheila shook her head.
    We leaned back in our seats as our waitress put our main courses in front of us, the smell alone enough to shut up even Dennis as he tucked into his burger. But not for long.
    “All I remember is,” Dennis said around a mouthful, “it was his choice. The old drummer, I mean. He left ’cause he wanted to, not ’cause they made him. Burnout, maybe? Not sure how the new guy got in, though.”
    “What about the office manager who’s missing?” I asked. “Know anything about that?”
    He shook his head. “Probably just took off with the money. Can’t trust anybody these days. Might be he even has ties with the Mafia. You never know anymore.”
    And the Mafia did have a big firefight that was putting off Genna’s autopsy. I hadn’t heard that Baronne was one of the casualties, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved. I wondered if Detective Alexander has paused for even a moment in his quest to nab Jordan to consider that possibility.
    “Stella and I let the cows out this morning,” Lucy said. Her pointed look at the rest of us made it clear it was time to move on to other subjects. We did.
    By the time we were done with dessert, which Dennis insisted on buying for us, it was mid-afternoon. We were standing outside, the guys picking their teeth with toothpicks, when I saw another familiar face.
    “Jermaine!” I made my way through the parking lot to where he was standing by his Fat Boy. “Wasn’t expecting to see you out today.”
    “What? Because of Jordan?” He rolled his shoulders, loosening them. “I spent all day yesterday and half of last night trying to get in touch with him, not to mention staying up with him all night Friday. I’m sorry for him and all, but he’s gotta make the next move. I can’t put my life on hold forever.” He peeled off his riding gloves and tucked them into a saddlebag. “If I hadn’t gotten called in to work security that night, I wouldn’t know any more than anybody else. And I don’t know much, as it is.”
    Join the club.
    “What’s the story on your getting brought in to work the concert, anyway?”
    He scratched his face, obviously not shaved in the past day or so. “The head of security called in sick at the last minute. Must’ve been pretty bad if he’d do that. One of the other guys had to step up to that job, so they needed another body. Jordan heard somebody talking about it and gave them my name. Since I have some experience and passed their little test, I got the job. Shoulda been an easy gig, since they have such a good security