“Oh my God. You’re Derek’s dad. I don’t know why I didn’t put it together. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. We miss him so much,” Brandon said. His voice cracked as he spoke.
“Yeah, so do I. Hey, so we’re kinda looking into what happened. The cops seem to think things have gone cold. You know how that is, right? They couldn’t find their ass with a flashlight and two hands. Did Derek say anything to you about anybody threatening him? Maybe some crazy disgruntled customer or something?” Buddy Lee asked.
“Uh, nah, he never said anything to me,” Brandon said.
“How about something personal? Did he say he had beef with anybody? Maybe another caterer?”
“No way. This ain’t like the mafia. No one kills anyone because they can make a better buttercream frosting.”
“Well, did he say anything strange in the weeks before it happened?”
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t really know anything.”
“Yeah. Ya know, when the cops told us Derek and Isiah’s friends wasn’t talking, I didn’t believe it. But here you are lying to my face,” Buddy Lee said. Ike heard a hard edge in his tone. Like steel striking steel.
“What? I’m not lying. I don’t know anything.” Brandon said. His hands flopped around on the counter like dying trout.
“Yeah, you do. You know what a tell is, Brandon?”
“A tell?”
“It’s something you do that tells me you’re lying. Everybody got one, and everybody’s is different. Now you? Yours is just a little thing. You wanna know what it is?” Buddy Lee asked. He walked closer to the counter and grabbed Brandon’s convulsing hands.
“I’ve asked three times about Derek and what you know. And all three times you tug at your earlobe before you answer. That’s your tell, Brandon. It tells me you know something and you lying about it. Now, if you really miss Derek and you was really his friend, you’ll tell me what you know,” Buddy Lee said. Ike noticed the edge had gone out of his tone. Now he sounded comforting, like a priest. Or a good cop getting a confession.
“I told you I don’t know anything,” Brandon said. He snatched his hands away from Buddy Lee. “I think y’all should go. I got a lot to do, and the boss will be here soon.”
Buddy Lee stepped back from the counter. He turned, brushed past Ike, and went to one of the display tables.
“You guys need to go,” Brandon said. His hands started dancing again.
Buddy Lee stared back at Brandon. Using one hand he tipped the display table over. The sixtier model cake splattered across the floor. The chunks of chemically treated confection looked like huge pieces of candle wax.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Brandon wailed.
“You know something, Brandon. Tell me,” Buddy Lee said. Brandon came from behind the counter. Ike stepped between him and Buddy Lee. He put his hand on the young man’s chest and stopped his forward momentum cold. Ike could feel his heart fluttering in his chest like the wings of a hummingbird. Buddy Lee walked over to another table of displays. Using both hands this time, he flipped the table over. Six different styles of cupcakes spilled across the floor as the table clattered and the legs folded in on themselves.
“Jesus! Stop!” Brandon howled. Buddy Lee came striding over to him and grabbed him by the front of his T-shirt. Ike stepped back out of the way.
“You want me to start on you? You gonna look worse than them cakes if you don’t tell me what you know. Just tell me what you know, Brandon. Help me. Help me make this fucking thing right,” Buddy Lee said.
“I’m scared,” Brandon said. He dropped his head until his chin was nearly touching Buddy Lee’s hands. Buddy Lee let go of his shirt and put both hands on his shoulders.
“I know you are. I know. But what you tell me ain’t going nowhere.”
Brandon mumbled something into his chest.
“What?” Buddy Lee asked.
“I said, Derek met a girl. Some girl at an event we did for some guy who had a recording studio. He told me the girl was seeing some guy who was a big deal. The guy was married and the girl wanted to tell the world what was going on. Derek was real upset about it. Said the guy was a major-league hypocrite and asshole. He said he was gonna get Isiah to publish her story. A couple of weeks later he was dead,” Brandon said.
Ike felt like he’d been punched in the gut with a sledgehammer.
“Who was the girl?” Buddy Lee asked. Brandon shrugged.