Have a Deadly New Year

by Lynn Cahoon

  Angie glanced around the carnival grounds. The grass that had probably been green and fresh before the traveling carnival had set up earlier that week now looked like a crowd of elephants had trampled through the field. The lights for the rides and the games were brightening as the natural light dimmed. Happy they’d gotten out tonight before the restaurant challenge started tomorrow, she walked over to the treat trailer while she waited.

  A redheaded man glared at her as she started to speak; then he walked away from the window. Angie could hear him mutter to a young girl, “Go do your job.”

  The pretty girl blinked at the harsh tone, then walked over to the window and smiled down at Angie. “What can I help you with, honey?”

  “Cotton candy please.”

  “Pink or blue?” The young woman leaned down so she could see Angie’s face. “I bet you’re a blue girl. Kind of a rebel, right?”

  “She’s definitely a rebel.” Ian held out a twenty to the girl, then turned to Angie. “So, blue?”

  “Now I want to say pink, just to be different.” Angie glanced at the two bags. “Okay, give me the blue.”

  As they walked away, Ian stuffed the change into his wallet. “I might have to go get more cash depending on where we eat dinner.”

  “You don’t have to buy everything tonight. I have money too.” Angie took a big bite of the fluffy candy that melted immediately into her mouth and tasted like fresh-picked blueberries. “Yum.”

  “I am not letting my favorite girl go Dutch-treat on our first date night to the fair.” He held his hands up in the air, taking in the lights and sounds of the crowds. “This is what memories are made of, and I don’t want you telling our grandchildren that their papa was always cheap.”

  Angie took another bite of the blue fluff. It gave her a moment to gauge her feelings about Ian’s comment. Sometimes, the thought of settling down with one man in one place scared her just a bit. Today, though, it felt okay. Probably the sugar high she was getting from the junk food. She decided to ignore the comment and go back to dinner.

  “I thought we’d hit the Methodist Women’s tent, at least for dessert. Felicia’s volunteering there tonight. But first, we have to visit Estebe at the Basque Center tent. They’re both working the restaurant this weekend.” Angie stepped over a large power line in the path in front of her and ignored the catcalls from the carnies in the fish pond booth. “Next weekend, we’ll really be short staffed. I need Felicia with me on Friday and Estebe for the final night.”

  “Do you really think you’ll have customers during Fair Week?” Ian glanced around the carnival. “We’ve only been here two hours, and I think I’ve seen half the population of River Vista.”

  “Fairs are big business, especially in an agricultural area. Reservations are down, but not low enough we need to close.” She pointed to the haunted house ride. “Let’s do that before we eat.”

  “Only if you’ll do my favorite too.” Ian stopped at the ticket booth. “Are we doing more than the two? The arm band is probably the best buy if we decide to ride four or more.”

  Always calculating the costs. She wondered if he’d glance at the County Seat books. Maybe there was a way to cut some costs there. Produce had been killing her budget this summer, but everything was so fresh and clean. She wanted to buy all the food. She filed away the idea. Tonight was date night. Not what-can-you-do-for-me night. Or let’s-talk-business night.

  “We’re still early for dinner.” She took in the sparkling rides and lights. “Let’s do the wrist bands and pretend we’re teenagers.”

  Ian chuckled as he ordered the wrist bands from the totally bored teen in the booth. He took the blue band and clicked it on her wrist. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

  “What was that for?” she asked as they came up for air.

  His eyes twinkled in the now bright lights of the carnival. “You said you wanted to pretend. I wanted to kiss you. So I did.”

  As they made their way into a small, metal car into the haunted house, Angie grinned at Ian. That probably wouldn’t be the last stolen kiss this evening.

  * * * *

  Angie’s legs still felt wobbly from what she hoped was the final ride of the night. She’d been flipped and turned and jerked every way possible. Apparently, the ride had been built to move a human body. Called Satan, the picture of the bucking bull on the entrance should have warned her of the ferocious ride ahead. Ian appeared fine as they sauntered toward the food court.

  He turned and saw her lagging behind him. “Hey, are you all right?”

  “You’re going to tell me you don’t even feel a bit different?” She took his offered hand and fell in step with him, dodging the crowd going toward the section of the fairgrounds where the carnival sat.

  “Feel what? You mean the ride?” He grinned at her like the teenager she had wanted to pretend to be. “I thought it was gnarly. You want to go again before we eat?”

  “Yeah, no. I have to be creative in the morning, and right now it feels like my brain has turned into scrambled eggs.” She pointed to a table in the Basque Community Center booth. “I’ll sit there, you can order dinner.”

  “What do you want?” He glanced at the wooden menu hung over the line of grills at the front of the booth.

  “Estebe will know what to make me.” Angie laid her head on her arms, trying to fend off a migraine. “And a lemon-lime soda. Please.”

  She heard Ian’s footsteps leave her as she took in the smells of the tent. Seasoned lamb, onions, some type of rice, and if she was right, a flatbread that Estebe liked to make for family meals to go with soup, especially on the chilly fall nights. The restaurant had been open a little over a year, and her employees had turned from strangers to family. It had happened fast. Angie hadn’t been able to make that kind of connection at her first restaurant. At el Pescado, she’d always been hiring. One month, she’d replaced the entire kitchen staff, only to have her sous chef quit a week later. Jobs were plentiful there, and there was always somewhere willing to pay a little more to get trained staff. And Angie believed in training.

  Here, the wages she paid were higher than most of the other restaurants in the area, but she kept a stable staff both in the kitchen and the front of the house. If that meant she and Felicia took home a little less profit at the end of the year, that didn’t matter. She loved the way the business was developing.

  “Angie, why are you looking like you got into the wine early?”

  She looked up into Estebe’s big brown eyes. Her sous chef appeared concerned. She sighed and pointed toward the end of the table. “Ian tried to kill me.”

  Estebe set a bowl of soup and a piece of warm flatbread in front of her, and Ian set the soda nearby. “I’m sure that is not true. Ian is a good man.”

  “Rides and Angie just don’t get along.” Ian slapped Estebe on the arm. “How have you been?”

  “I have been well.” As the men continued talking, going back to the makeshift kitchen for more food, Angie dug into the soup.

  Warmth and taste filled her mouth, and immediately her brain stopped spinning. She broke off a piece of the still-warm bread and dipped it in the soup. Heaven.

  Felicia slipped onto the bench next to her. She grabbed a piece of the flatbread and beelined it to Angie’s soup. “Yum, let me try.”

  Angie wanted to wrap her arms around the bowl and tell her friend to go get her own food, but then her better nature prevailed. She watched as Felicia delicately dipped the bread into the bowl.

  “Oh, my. We really need to add this to the menu. Maybe in October when the chill hits the valley?” Felicia pushed a pile of papers toward Angie, then stood. “I’m getting something. I’m on a break from the booth, and I need real food before I eat another slice of pie.”

  Angie glanced at the papers. “What are these?”

  “The rules to the contest. We get our fir
st challenge tomorrow.” Felicia ordered at the front of the line, then paid. She moved down the line to where her order would be delivered. While she waited, she continued her conversation with Angie. “They gave us a theme for the first day. I guess what we’ll prepare will be announced tomorrow, and we’ll have time to go grab additional food from the store if we didn’t prepare right.”

  Angie studied the pages. Tomorrow was an appetizer round. And she had just the right idea. She’d send Matt shopping tonight and store everything at the County Seat. Matt was one of the line cooks and always looking for more hours. Then they’d move everything to the food storage locker on site first thing in the morning. If she guessed wrong, they would recalculate and Matt would go back to the store. With Hope, the culinary student slash dishwasher, as their third, the work would go fast.

  “You got the rules then.” Estebe set a plate of some sort of rice dish in front of her. He held out a hand for what she’d already read. He scanned the pages. “You’ll have to do one hundred servings in less than three hours. Are you sure you don’t want me to help instead of Matt?”

  “Matt and Hope will be fine. Besides, from what Felicia said, we have a full seating at the restaurant. Especially since we closed up tonight. You know there will be some walk-ins.” She picked up a fork and took a bite. “This is wonderful.”

  “Of course. I am chef tonight. Tomorrow night, my brother is cooking. You may want to eat elsewhere.” He set down the pages. “I appreciate you letting me have tonight off. I know it must have cost a lot to close the restaurant.”

  “You weren’t the only one who wanted a night at the fair.” Angie smiled as Felicia sat down, her plate filled. “Besides, this way we can pick up any gossip about the contest. Do we know who’s entered?”

  Felicia listed off the different chefs in the area who were gunning to win Boise’s version of Restaurant Wars.

  Angie set down her fork. “Whoa. That’s a who’s who list of everyone who has any chef cred at all in the valley. Competition’s going to be steep.”

  “David Nubbins is the front-runner.” Estebe sipped on his beer. “At least that’s what we’ve heard here.”

  David Nubbins was head chef at the Sandpiper, the premier upscale restaurant in Boise. He had started the restaurant long before Angie had even thought about being a chef. She’d eaten there several times before she’d moved away. Mostly to see what a real chef did with local cuisine. “He has a lot of experience.”

  “And Sarah Fenny is coming up on his heels,” Felicia added, her plate almost empty. “She owns Fenny Pies over in Nampa. Since she opened, she’s been the go-to place for main dish pies and desserts.”

  “Copper Creek has entered too.” Angie shook her head, feeling a little overwhelmed. She hadn’t expected the big dogs to play in this contest at the fair. “I guess we might just get four nights of showing people what we do.”

  Felicia glanced at Estebe, who shook his head.

  “What’s going on, guys?” Angie stared from one to another. No one was talking. “Guys?”

  Felicia picked up the papers and thumbed through them. When she found the page she was looking for, she pulled it out and pointed to the middle of the page. “There’s been an addition to the rules. Three teams will be eliminated each night. We have to stay out of the bottom to stay in the competition. Are you sure you don’t want Estebe and me to work with you all four nights?”

  Angie read the section of the rules Felicia had pointed out again. Then she straightened the pile of pages and put them in her backpack. “Nope. We win or we lose together. From what I can see, we’ll do an appetizer, then a frozen drink—virgin and fully loaded. Then next weekend it’s main course and dessert. I’ll need Estebe on Friday and you on Saturday. We might want to bring Jeorge in tomorrow night to help plan out Sunday’s drink. But I think Matt and Hope will help me mix Sunday. We’re only as strong as our weakest link.”

  “But you might not make it to next weekend if you don’t pull one of us in to help.” Felicia put her hand on Angie’s shoulder. “How bad do you want to win?”

  “Not bad enough to make either Matt or Hope feel like they’re less of a team member. We’ve already scheduled them to work the fair booth.” Angie sipped her soda. “Look, I know the two of you are better. We’d totally kick butt with all three of us, but I’ve got to put my faith in all my kitchen staff. Not just the superstars.”

  “You are a good boss, Angie Turner.” Estebe glanced at the line, frowning. “I need to go figure out what they’re doing back there. People should not have to wait for their food.”

  When Estebe left, Felicia glanced at her watch. “I’m expected back soon. Look, I’m off shift at ten. Do you want to go over to our booth where we’ll be cooking and check it out? I’d feel better if we knew there weren’t any issues going into tomorrow.”

  “Sounds great. Ian and I will head over to the main building and wander until then. I want to go through the exhibits and see what people sent in for judging.”

  Felicia took her plate along with Angie’s. “Just don’t tell me if they already have the ribbons out. I haven’t gone over to check my entries. I’m a nervous wreck about it. Especially, my banana bread. I’m not sure my tweaks were too much for the judges.”

  It was official. Felicia had fallen in love with the rural lifestyle. When she’d found out she could enter the baking competition at the fair as a professional, she’d spent the last three weeks baking and perfecting her recipes.

  “I’m sure they won’t announce until tomorrow. You coming by before service?” Angie sipped on her soda; the heat of the day had wiped her out. She threw away the almost finished bottle then stepped over to the counter and bought three bottles of water. She handed the extras to Ian and Felicia before opening her own. “Remind me to put water on the shopping list. I’m sure that booth is going to be scorching hot midday.”

  “I’ll be here until about noon. So you can send me for extra groceries so you all can keep prepping.” Felicia stared out into the darkness in the direction of the main exhibit hall. “I have made a decision though.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Felicia drained half of her water, then reclosed the bottle. She started walking toward the exit and back to her own booth. “Next year I’m entering the canning competition. You’ve canned before, right? You can teach me.”

  “The ag extension office has classes going now. Do you want me to get you a schedule?” Ian joined the conversation.

  Felicia paused at the doorway. “That would be lovely. I’ve had a little too much time on my hands since Taylor and I broke up. This is just the project I need.”

  Angie watched her friend disappear into the crowd. Even though the River Vista Methodist Women’s booth was only a few feet away, it seemed like Felicia disappeared into a crowd of people moving down the street, looking for the perfect place to eat dinner. “She loves living here. Someday she’s going to walk in and tell me she’s married a local farmer and is going to raise goats and chickens.”

  Ian put an arm around her waist as they made their way into the crowd to find the path to the exhibit hall. “Yeah, but she won’t quit the County Seat. That girl has too much energy to stay home and do projects. She likes having her to-do list a couple pages long.”

  “She reminds me of you. How did the board meeting go?” Angie settled into the pace the crowd was moving. Not too fast, and she had to swerve to avoid traffic when the people in front of her stopped to read a menu board. The smells of fried onions, grilled burgers, and deep-fried everything made her stomach growl again, even though she knew there was no way she could be hungry after the meal they’d just eaten.

  “We’ll come back for pie after checking out the competition site.” Ian chuckled as he turned her toward the new path and out of the crowd. “Let’s not talk about the board meeting. I swear, those guys think there should be absolutely no cost in
setting up a booth. Even when I show them the numbers, they don’t get it.”

  Ian had been fighting with the board for months now. The budget was calling for a slight raise in booth prices, but the majority votes on the board were farmers and didn’t want to increase costs. Which she understood, but electricity, advertising, and space rental weren’t free either.

  They cut through the back alley between the two main walkways. Ian pointed to a row of empty booths in the center of a large path of grass. A large sign over the Western-style entrance said Restaurant Wars. “I guess that’s where you’re working tomorrow.”

  Angie stepped closer to the roped-off entry. “There’s our booth. Right next to Copper Creek. I’m so glad. I haven’t talked to Sydney since the last time we had dinner there.”

  “Should be fun.” Ian took her arm. “Come on, you’re on a date. I already spent dinner talking about work. Let’s go see what they have for sale.”

  “Same old, same old. I don’t want a new phone service or my vents cleaned, but I might find the fudge shop.” She grinned as she stepped back onto the path.

  A crash sounded behind her. “Is someone there?”

  She saw a dark figure running out of the area. She glanced at Ian, who was already on his phone. “I’m calling fair security.”

  Angie paused, looking at him. “You have the number on your phone?”

  “The farmers market has a booth in the exhibit hall. I was going to surprise you when we arrived. I’ve got volunteers manning it tonight, but I’ll be here most of the week. So we can hang out again tomorrow after your event. I hear they have bands at the dance hall every night.” He held up a finger. “This is Ian McNeal, and I’m over at the Restaurant Wars section. I think someone was inside and broke or stole something.”

  Angie shined her phone flashlight over the area, trying to see what the guy had been after. When Ian finished his call, she pointed to the Sandpiper display. “Does it look like the sign’s been torn down?”