He was panting a little by the time he finished speaking and more than once spittle flew from his mouth and onto Mark’s cheek. He fought the urge to wipe it off.
“I’ll have to check that myself,” Mark said, opting for a curt, collected response, even though his mind was whirring with questions.
The fight this man described wasn’t in the report and neither the detective nor the ME they spoke to had mentioned it. Nor did Mia.
“I am available to answer questions,” the man responded in all seriousness. But then was put to the lie a moment later when a curly-haired woman in a long black apron came to the table with her fists on her hips and told him customers were waiting in a shrill voice.
“This afternoon,” he amended. “We take a break from three to five.”
“I’ll see you then,” Mark said,
