Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [56]
Caine blinked, clearly unfamiliar with the saying. “Huh?”
“I hired Buddy,” Weldon said, reappearing as quickly as he’d disappeared.
“It’s none of their beeswax, kid,” Buddy told Weldon, putting a reassuring hand on the young man’s shoulder while continuing his glare at Caine and Faith.
“That one says he’s Karl’s son,” Weldon said, pointing at Caine.
“Show me some ID,” Buddy told Caine before turning to Faith. “And what about you, cupcake? Who do you claim to be?”
“Her name is Faith West,” Caine said on her behalf. “Her father owns West Investigations.”
Buddy’s bushy eyebrows rose. “The bozos who messed up the investigation and pinned the blame on Karl?”
“Did you know my father?” Caine asked.
“No, but I know Weldon, and he says Karl the Chemist was innocent. I believe him.”
“Based on what facts?” Faith demanded.
“The fact that Weldon says Karl didn’t do it,” Buddy replied.
“Then how do you explain the fact that a sizable amount of money ended up in an offshore account in Karl’s name?” Faith demanded.
“Part of the scam,” Buddy said. “Did you bother to see where that money is now?”
Faith nervously nibbled on her bottom lip. “Well . . . uh . . . no . . . uh, not yet.”
“It was transferred out within hours of my father’s death,” Caine said.
“By you?”
“No, not by me.”
“I don’t understand,” Faith said. “Who else had access to that account? I didn’t see anyone else’s name on it.”
“It was transferred to a holding company, which transferred it to another holding company,” Caine said. “Pretty complicated paper trail.”
“Karl barely had the patience to balance his own checkbook,” Weldon said. “He was not a banking expert. No way.”
“Wasn’t your ex-fiancé a banker?” Caine asked Faith.
“Yes, but he couldn’t have had anything to do with this case. I hadn’t even met him yet when the situation with your father occurred. It doesn’t make any sense that he’d be involved. You’re not being logical.”
“She’s probably right, but I’ll check it out anyway,” Buddy said. “What’s this bozo’s name?”
“Alan Anderson,” Caine said.
She smacked Caine’s arm. Hard. “Stop doing that.”
He didn’t even blink let alone flinch. “Doing what?”
“Answering for me,” she said. “I can speak for myself.”
“Maybe we should go inside,” Weldon said nervously. “And talk about things.”
“And eat,” Buddy said. “I’m starving.”
“Some of the food here may be a little too spicy for you,” Weldon said.
“You mean for an old geezer like me? Don’t you worry. I’ve got a cast-iron stomach.” Buddy patted his abdomen proudly.
They entered the crowded establishment and were shown to a table for four in the back. Studying the menu, Faith asked Weldon, “I see they describe themselves as specializing in Indian and Nepali cuisine. What are some of your favorites?”
“Vegetable korma, any kind of curry, aloo ghobi. And of course the naan and the raita and all the condiments.”
They ordered an assortment of appetizers for starters—from vegetable samosa to chicken momo, dumplings filled with grilled chicken marinated in garlic, ginger and Nepali spices. They also added a selection of tandoori appetizers at Weldon’s insistence.
“Tandoori is marinated meat cooked in a very hot tan-door, which is a clay oven with a really hot fire inside,” Weldon said.
“The kid knows all kinds of trivia like that,” Buddy said proudly.
“So does Faith,” Caine said.
For their main courses, Faith and Caine both ordered the tandoori roasted chicken. The more adventurous Buddy ordered the spicy shrimp vindaloo, while Weldon went with his favorite, the spicy kerala fish curry.
The appetizers were a big hit, but it was the main course that really made an impression . . . on Buddy.
“Son of a . . . buck!” Buddy reached for his bottle of Bud even as his eyes watered and his face turned red. “That’s hot!”
“I tried to warn you,” Weldon said.
“I know. That was close. I almost broke my vow. I gave up cursing, you know,” Buddy said.
“For Lent? We’re past that now,” Weldon said.
“Not for Lent. For good,” Buddy said.
“An interesting choice,” Caine said. “Why’d you make it?”
“It’s