Chapter one

Val Nardi pulled her twenty-year-old green Subaru behind Heidi’s Coffee Cabin, or at least what had been Heidi’s Coffee Cabin. It had been a drive-thru establishment situated along the business district in Bonney Lake, Washington, thirty-five miles west of picturesque Mount Rainier. Now it was a small vacant building Val would spend part of her day off cleaning in preparation for the next tenant.

Val worked for her older brother, Joe, in his restaurant, Mama Nardi’s Pizzeria and Ristorante, usually as a server but occasionally in the kitchen as a cook. She also delivered pizza and acted as hostess when needed. Anything Joe and his wife, Audra, needed her to do. It was steady work and paid the bills although she rarely had days off and if she did, it was usually on Tuesday. Owning and renting out her little building was extra income. She couldn’t live off it but she counted on it.

After the loss of her own business due to pandemic restrictions, she had needed a job and Joe needed help as he restructured his restaurant from a strictly dine-in establishment to a delivery and takeout facility. For months, the restaurant’s mere survival had been in question, forcing Joe and Audra to reduce the number of employees. Some of the servers had already quit, too afraid to work in the public sector in any capacity. Some were let go when they couldn’t agree to the new hours and reduced pay, but Joe had no choice. With other restaurants boarding their doors, he was determined to keep Nardi’s open. People, after all, still had to eat. For some, although they couldn’t dine in, having a pizza delivered to their front porch represented contact with the outside world. Contactless contact. Working from home was a challenge for many former office workers. For many, balancing work with children’s online schooling meant finding time to cook was difficult at best. That created an opportunity Joe wanted to fill. When he, acting as brother protector, offered Val a job, she accepted, both to help pay her bills and to help her brother’s family business survive the chaos of the Covid years. And to help Val herself survive her own life-altering losses from the virus. She’d spent many long hours wearing gloves, a mask and a face shield and delivering pizza for her brother. There was no face-to-face contact with the customers, only a thank-you shouted through a crack in the door and a small tip left under a flowerpot. Val did whatever her brother needed her to do, occasionally for less than full wages. Joe and Audra’s son, Jackson, also came on board. Fresh out of high school, he needed a job and they needed his help. Jobs for unskilled nineteen-year-olds were few and far between when so many had been laid off. It wasn’t Jackson’s first choice but it was something.

Val wasn’t a large woman. Not like her two brothers, both tall, muscular and imposing. Perhaps that was why they were protective of her and always had been. She wasn’t fragile either. In spite of her stature and trim build, she was capable of pulling her weight. And they knew it. As of today, Val had worked ten days straight, a few of them double shifts at the restaurant. She had plans for her day off but first she needed to see how much cleaning her building needed. It had been an investment she steadfastly clung to, refusing to sell it even in the most desperate times. It was her security blanket. Her safety net. She hoped a quick mopping and trash removal would be sufficient. She’d then advertise it and have a new tenant paying rent before the end of the month. Hopefully. It was a great location, right on the main commercial artery of Bonney Lake. Whether another coffee barista or some other entrepreneur moved in, she didn’t care. She wanted and needed it occupied and rent rolling in.

Her previous tenant, Heidi, had been in business less than a year and seemed to be surviving, but increasingly when Val stopped by to check on the property the closed sign was in the window during what should be peak hours. Val had had early misgivings about renting to the woman but Heidi paid the deposit and two months’ rent up front so Val hoped she would be successful. It wasn’t until two months’ worth of rent checks were late that Heidi informed Val she was closing the coffee kiosk permanently. This wasn’t Val’s first tenant to abandon a lease owing her money but it was still disappointing. It meant she had ignored her inner voice and taken a gamble that proved regrettable.

Unlocking the back door, she was greeted by the strong smell of coffee. Not a fresh, appealing, first-thing-in-the-morning coffee aroma but a stale, strong stench of burned reheated coffee mixed with mold and sewage. She stepped back, nose stinging and eyes watering, drew a deep breath of fresh air, then entered. The floor was a speckled mess of what she suspected were coffee grounds, along with dried milk, sticky sugary coffee flavorings all smashed and blended together in muddy footprints. Paper napkins and cups, stir sticks and paper towels, all of them dirty, added to the mess around the room on both the floor and counters. The door to the small bathroom in the back corner stood open. The toilet had overflowed. It looked and smelled disgusting. Val gagged and her eyes watered at the stench.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she grumbled as she lifted her sandal from the sticky floor, drawing back a long string of something gooey. If she had known what she was walking into she wouldn’t have worn her new capri pants and wedge sandals.

Fortunately, she had a broom, mop, trash bags and everything she’d need in her car, because none of the cleaning supplies she kept in the tiny closet were still there. Anything and everything that wasn’t attached to the wall, floor or counter was gone. Even the fire extinguisher from the holder and the toilet paper spindle were missing. From the angle of the refrigerator, Val suspected they might have tried to take it as well. The only spot that wasn’t dirty and sticky was a square patch on the stainless-steel counter where the coffee maker once sat.

She pulled her shoulder-length brown hair back into a ponytail and went to work, first clearing the toilet with a plunger, then collecting trash. From the looks of the dried-on mess, she suspected she’d be mopping at least twice, if not more, to clean and disinfect the bathroom and scrub sticky coffee stains off the floors.

She filled three trash bags with litter and refuse. The gentle morning rain added to the sultry atmosphere, making the air heavy in spite of the pleasant temperature. She opened the sliding drive-thru windows to vent the strong odor now mixed with cleanser and to cool the sweat that rolled down her face.

She had just returned from loading the last bag of trash in her car when a thirty-something couple in a shiny new BMW pulled up to the window and honked. Val could hear music from their car stereo even before she came to the window. She leaned out and said, “Sorry. We’re closed.”

“White chocolate mocha with a double shot and a caramel macchiato. Both venti,” the man said through his partially lowered window. He bobbed his head in time with the music.

“We’re closed,” she said, leaning further out the open window.

“What?” He clearly couldn’t hear over the sound of his stereo.

“No coffee,” Val shouted and shook her head.

A woman in the passenger seat leaned over the driver and waved a piece of paper.

“We’ve got a two-for-one coupon,” she yelled, as if that made a difference.

“No coffee,” Val mouthed, realizing they couldn’t hear anything she said. There was no closed sign she could show them. Heidi had even taken that. Val shrugged and shook her head again.

The woman finally lowered the volume and peered up at Val.

“How can you be out of coffee?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed. And I’m not a barista.” Val didn’t want to admit that the previous tenant had gone out of business. Hopefully someone else would be moving in soon and reopen even if not as a coffee shack. She didn’t want to discourage future customers from returning, whatever the new business was.

The woman tossed a narrowed scowl at Val and said to her companion, “She’s just the cleaning lady. She doesn’t know how to operate an expresso machine even if she had coffee. Come on, Jerry. Let’s go to Starbucks.” She wadded up the coupon and tossed it out the window.

“I may not know how to operate the machine but I know it’s espresso, not expresso, you little twerp,” Val called after them.

Val closed and locked the window. She wanted to finish cleaning and leave before more would-be customers drove up, demanding service. And if Heidi thought she was getting her security or cleaning deposits back, she had another think coming. The pictures on Val’s phone were her evidence of how the building was vacated. She had a feeling she wouldn’t see the delinquent rent checks either. It wasn’t worth the attorney fees or the aggravation to sue.

It took another thirty minutes of wiping surfaces before she was comfortable the building was ready to show to potential tenants. At least it didn’t smell repulsive and her shoes didn’t stick to the floor. She’d locked the back door and loaded her cleaning supplies in the car when her phone chimed in her pocket. She checked the ID on the screen and considered not answering but she knew her sister-in-law would keep calling. She had a pretty good idea what she wanted.

“Hi, Audra.”

“Val, could you come in?”

“It’s Tuesday and I’m not on the schedule. It’s my day off.”

“Could you?”

Val started the car, turned on the windshield wipers as the drizzle became a full-fledged downpour. She leaned back against the headrest, deciding how to answer. It was 12:30, the prime lunch hour.

“Tony called off,” Audra added. “His mother is in town so I bet he’s off somewhere with her. And Kathy called off. She’s sick. It’s getting crazy, Val. We need you to come in.”

Val desperately wanted to say no, she was busy and couldn’t come in. She owed it to herself to have the rest of the day to herself. She’d cleaned a disgustingly dirty building and had been stiffed on two months’ rent. She wanted time to decompress and soothe her anger. And she desperately needed a shower. But she also owed her brother her undying allegiance. Knowing what he had done for her was enough. She couldn’t say no. And seldom did. Audra knew how to play her and get what she wanted. Val strongly suspected that the request to come in for a couple of hours meant come in and work until close.

“I’ll have to go home first. I need to shower and change.”

“Oh, wear whatever you’ve got on. It’ll be all right this time. It’ll be covered by an apron anyway.”

The customary and acceptable dress code for the servers was black slacks, or black jeans, so long as they weren’t ripped or worn. Audra made that quite clear before any applicant was hired. Black shoes were also required. Nardi’s provided red T-shirts but each employee was required to have appropriate and clean apparel at the start of their shift. Audra was a stickler for appearance. Val never questioned it, even appreciated Audra’s insistence the servers dress neatly. Audra’s reassurance that she could wear whatever she had on meant they were severely shorthanded.

“Audra, I can’t. I’ve been cleaning and I’m all sweaty.”

“Cleaning what?”

“The drive-thru. They stripped the place clean and left a disaster. They left me hanging for two month’s rent, too.”

“Give me the phone number. Don’t worry. I’ll have Joe take care of it.”

Audra was taking control and Val didn’t need or want her help.

“No!” Val exclaimed. “I’ve taken care of it. I don’t want Joe calling her. I’ve got the security and cleaning deposits. I’m not refunding any of it.”

“Hell, yes, you should keep that.”

Val didn’t like Audra’s brand of interference. As helpful as she tried to be, it was invasive and overbearing. But she was family and that was the justification for meddling in Val’s business.

“I’ll be there but I’ll need an extra thirty minutes,” Val said, knowing Audra was going to ask why then complain about it. She didn’t like being second fiddle to anything or anyone, whatever the reason.

“Extra thirty minutes for what?” she immediately demanded.

“I have a pan of brownies I need to drop off at the center. I promised Nana I’d have them there today.”

“Can’t you do that tomorrow morning before you come in? I need you as soon as you can get here.”

“They’re for bingo night. I need to drop them off by six. How long will you need me? Not more than an hour or two, right?”

“Probably all evening. We’ve got a group coming in.”

“Then I’ll drop them off before I come in and I won’t have to worry about it later. I promised, Audra.”

“Bring the brownies with you. I’ll drop them off this evening. I need to run an errand.”

Val heaved an exasperated sigh, knowing the rest of her day off had been commandeered and no excuse short of death would release her from that fact.

“You’ll have them there by six? No later. I promised the activities director,” Val reiterated.

“Yes. I’ll have them there by six,” Audra groaned.

Val wouldn’t bet a plugged nickel the brownies would be delivered on time but she’d give Audra the benefit of the doubt.

“All right. I’ll bring them and be there shortly. But I am taking a shower first.”

“Hurry.” Audra hung up.

Val pulled into traffic, knowing she had relinquished her day off and probably wouldn’t get another one for at least a week, if not two weeks.

“Why do I let myself be talked into this,” she muttered and headed home. She knew why. Since she had been shorted on rent payments, she’d be paying the utilities, insurance and taxes on the building without income assistance from a renter.

In spite of the rain, she lowered her window. The stinky bags of trash were filling her car with a disgusting odor. Or did she smell that bad?

“Whew,” she gasped, hoping to defuse the gag she felt rising in her throat. “Heidi, I hope you never ask me for a reference because you are not getting one.”