Fine Dining

by Gale Deitch

  Fine Dining

  A Trudie Fine Mystery

  by

  Gale Deitch

  Fine Dining

  First Edition

  Copyright©2013 by Gale Deitch

  Smashwords Edition

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or stored in any database or retrieval system without prior written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes in this book.

  eBook ISBN: 9781310360466

  www.gdeitchblog.com

  This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any similarities to persons living or dead, real or imagined, are purely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Design: www.earthlycharms.com

  To Dad, who inspired me, and to Mom, who encouraged me.

  Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all.

  Julia Child

  Chapter One

  Happiness is a big bowl of gumbo, warm enough to nurture your soul and spicy enough to keep your heart pounding. Tonight I couldn’t remember ever feeling this content and, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t hungry all the time.

  Daniel, the source of my happiness, grinned back at me across our romantic table for two as we dined in warm ambiance at Maybelline’s, my good friend May’s New Orleans-style bistro, an up-and-comer in the Washington, D.C. restaurant scene. Daniel reached across the table for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Tonight he wore his new gray sport coat with a pale blue shirt open at the neck. A few dark hairs peeked out through the collar opening, and I flushed at the thought of curling up next to him later, running my fingers over his chest.

  Daniel nodded at my unfinished mushroom risotto appetizer. “Okay,” he said. “Where is Trudie Fine and what have you done with her?”

  I shook my head, confused, but before I could respond, I saw May sweep toward us from the kitchen, her gold and rust kaftan swirling gracefully against her tall slender frame.

  She glanced at my plate. “Okay, where is Trudie Fine and what have you done with her?”

  I looked at Daniel and we both laughed.

  I stood to hug May, inhaling her pleasant scent that hinted of spice and tropical flowers. “I guess I’m saving room for the next course. You know how I love your food.”

  “Shuga, I’ll give you a pass this time, but you know I been itchin’ to get you two over here so I can treat you right with some good ol’ fashioned Southern cookin’.” Her close-cropped hair was tinged with burgundy highlights, and large gold hoop earrings swung as she shifted her attention between Daniel and me.

  I sat back in my chair and replaced the white cotton napkin in my lap. “That’s exactly why we’re here, so bring it on.” As the owner of my own catering company, A Fine Fix, I knew how it felt to put out exquisite dishes and wonder why some guests weren’t devouring everything on their plates.

  May flashed a big smile, exposing two lovely dimples and perfect teeth, bright against her caramel skin. “Guess who’s been helpin’ out these days? My brother came into town a few weeks ago. He’s stayin’ with me for a while. You remember Micah.”

  I frowned. My mind brought up an image of May’s brother visiting her at Johnson and Wales, where we’d gone to culinary school together in Charlotte. I recalled a wiry young man who’d been looking for a handout and a place to crash and had outstayed his welcome by a week or so. “Yes, I remember Micah. How long will he be here?”

  She shook her head. “That, ma cherie, is a difficult question. I love my baby brother dearly, but he certainly can get on my nerves sometimes. Right now he’s just soakin’ in whatever he can get and messin’ with the ladies. He’s a smooth one, that boy, but mine to deal with.” She smiled resignedly and shrugged. “I’ll send him out here to say hello.”

  “Sure,” I said, a little reluctantly, wondering how long Micah would be around this time. May didn’t need this kind of trouble in her life, especially not now, with a restaurant to run. That reminded me. “Oh, and May, I’ve got to see that new stove of yours.” I’d been dying to get a glimpse of the new oven-range she’d recently purchased from an upscale restaurant that had gone out of business.

  “Top a’ the line.” A smug grin spread across her face. “You do that. After dessert. For now, shuga, eat up.”

  As May made her way back to the kitchen, stopping at a couple of tables to check on the diners, Daniel leaned forward and whispered, “What was that expression I saw on your face?”

  I sighed. “It’s just that I recall Micah being bad news. He was such a charmer, always wheedling things out of people, always trying to mooch off someone. And May showered her baby brother with whatever he wanted.” I took a sip of my Cabernet. “But that was a long time ago. Maybe he’s grown up some.”

  “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “The way May spoke about her brother it doesn’t sound like he’s changed much.”

  Katie, our server, appeared with a huge platter of jambalaya for two that she set in the center of the table. Even in the formal uniform worn by the wait staff, a crisp white blouse and tailored black apron that hung from her waist down to her shins, she seemed young with her bright red hair and pale freckled complexion. “Here, you two,” she said, ladling out our first serving into ceramic bowls the size of my head. When she spoke, her sky-blue eyes fringed with strawberry blonde lashes opened wide with innocence. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Daniel picked up his fork and paused, grinning at me.

  “What?” I asked. His smoldering gaze reminded me of the glowing embers of a bonfire at summer camp, the ones we’d used to ignite our skewered marshmallows. I felt like one of those marshmallows now, my skin charred by his glance, my insides all soft and gooey.

  He gestured with his fork. “Trudie, are you going to eat or are you just going to watch me wolf down this feast?”

  I picked up my fork. “Well I’m enjoying the view from here, but I’d better start eating so May doesn’t come out and fuss at me again.”

  Daniel speared a chunk of Andouille sausage. “Since when does Trudie Fine have to be reminded to eat?”

  “Since you came into my life, Detective Goldman.” I tasted a forkful of food and, closing my eyes, savored the flavors that came together so perfectly in this dish.

  Daniel and I had been together exactly a month, and although I was living at my parents’ house, I’d been spending more and more time at his place. My condo was no longer habitable after a terrifying attempt on my life. It had been cleaned up, but I knew I’d never be able to step foot into that place again. Memories haunted me like the smell of burnt toast lingering in the air, and my bad dreams persisted even on the nights I slept in the safety of Daniel’s arms.

  Micah burst through the kitchen door into the dining room wearing a white shirt, black bow tie and a server’s long black apron.
He nodded at a tall waitress whose dark, silken ponytail cascaded down her back. She frowned as she passed him on her way to the kitchen. I saw it coming before she did; in one swift movement, Micah reached out and swatted her rear. When she swiveled around to him, I expected a slap to his face. Instead, she shot him a mischievous smile and continued on her way.

  Spotting me, Micah swaggered over to our table. He was taller and leaner than I remembered, but had the same arresting dimpled smile as his sister.

  “Trudie. Damn, you look fine, woman.” Bending down, he kissed the back of my hand, his dark eyes drinking me in. The diamond stud in his left ear must have been at least one carat, and the heavy gold chain on his wrist reminded me of a rope of sausage links. I wondered if it was a real diamond and real gold. I didn’t think Micah would have the kind of money it took to buy such expensive jewelry, but he’d always had a way of manipulating people to get the things he wanted.

  He ran his eyes over me, making me feel uncomfortable in my new sleeveless magenta dress that hugged my curves, one that Daniel had chosen and insisted I buy. Exposing my plump exterior so blatantly to the world was not something I’d ever relished, but Daniel loved my body just the way it was and always tried to boost my self-esteem.

  I introduced Micah to Daniel, who stood and shook his hand.

  “Sir, you have done yourse’f proud with this lady.” Micah nodded appreciatively toward me.

  Wanting to get the focus off me, I said, “It’s nice to see you, Micah. How long will you be staying with May?”

  He stroked the carefully-trimmed goatee on his chin. “Now that depends which way the wind blows.” He swung his gaze around the dining room. It settled on a table in the opposite corner. “Excuse me, Trudie. I’ll see you later. Nice meetin’ you, Daniel,” he called back as he strutted across the room.

  “How you doin’?” Micah’s greeting to the group at the table boomed out over the buzz of the other diners.

  The three men, who’d been conferring in low murmurs, all glanced up at him. Two of them were slim and dark-skinned, but the large man in the center stood out, not because of his well-tailored, snake-skin suit and burgundy silk tie, but because he was an Albino. His head was shaved bald, the white skin freckled with brown spots, his eyebrows and lashes a yellow blond, the paleness broken up only by his full pink lips. The man nodded at Micah and rocked back in his chair.

  Micah greeted the man with one of those complicated handshakes that involved linking thumbs, touching fingertips and bumping fists. Then he pulled up a chair to the table and the four of them leaned in to talk. As they spoke, I overheard Micah’s voice rise and fall, as if he were trying to reason with them, his hands gesturing more and more in appeal. Finally, he stood abruptly, catching the back of his chair before it fell over, and then hurried back to the kitchen.

  During this scene, Daniel had shifted his chair slightly for a better view, his attention no longer on me. As he watched and listened, I could see the veins in his temples stand out and his jaw tighten. Once Micah left the dining room, Daniel resumed eating, his eyes focused on his plate, obviously ruminating on his thoughts and the food simultaneously.

  “Hey, you,” I said, nudging him with my foot under the table. “Stop being a detective. This is our time to enjoy a romantic dinner together.”

  He grinned at me and nodded. The glint in his eyes hinted at some kind of mischief. Before I knew it, he had captured my leg with both of his and grabbed my foot under the table. It’s a good thing the tablecloth was floor-length, because Daniel began to run his hand from my ankle up to my knee where his fingers slipped below the hem of my dress.

  “Time for dessert?” he whispered.

  “Daniel.” I giggled.

  He just held on tighter and continued to run his fingertips gently up and down my leg. I shut my eyes and sighed. The effect was heavenly, but the moment I remembered we were in the middle of a public restaurant, my eyes sprang open. I glanced around at the other diners, but they were oblivious of us.

  Katie approached our table and set down a dish of May’s fabulous pralines. “Dessert?” she asked.

  Daniel let out a hoot of laughter which he tried to turn into a cough, and I giggled again. “Absolutely.”

  Katie and Micah wheeled out a cart to our table. As he flambéed our Bananas Foster and she portioned it onto our plates, they shot each other an occasional glance, Katie’s lashes hooding her eyes. Her nearly translucent skin, such a contrast against his mocha complexion, flushed each time he looked at her, and I wondered if something was going on between them or if Micah was just up to his flirty ways. Even as they returned the cart to the kitchen, he touched her back gently and nodded toward the door for her to enter first.

  I scooped into my vanilla ice cream laced with warm rum, my spoon digging out a piece of the sautéed banana. Daniel’s eyes burned into mine as we took our first bites simultaneously and moaned in appreciation. If we couldn’t be home in bed together, this was definitely the second best thing.

  Our mutual enjoyment was rudely interrupted as loud voices rang out from the kitchen. An argument of some kind, I guessed, laying down my spoon. I could hear May’s distinctive drawl yelling at someone and saw everyone in the dining room turn toward the commotion.

  Daniel stood, but I put my hand on his to stop him. “Let me,” I said. “I wanted to see May’s new stove anyway.”

  He sank back into his chair, looking wary. “All right, but don’t get in the middle of anything, Trudie. Let May take care of whatever the problem is. Okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll be back soon and then we can go home.” I hoped my smile held promises for later.

  “You did what?” May shrieked as I entered the kitchen. “You had no right to tell them that, Micah. You may be my brotha’ but this is my restaurant.”

  “You don’ know what these guys are capable of. Don’ you understand? You gotta go along with them.” Micah was pacing back and forth, getting in the way of the line cooks. Not that it mattered because all the kitchen staff and servers had stopped to watch this exchange.

  I noticed the sultry waitress with the long, dark ponytail observing the scene, a small grin playing at the corner of her mouth as if she was enjoying the drama. Katie stood beside her, mouth open and face pale.

  May put her hands on her hips and hissed, “I have given my answer. My final answer. They will not get one cent of my money.” She glanced up, seeing that everyone was watching their argument. “Why y’all just standin’ around doin’ nothin’? We have a restaurant to run.”

  Reluctant to miss the scene in front of them, the staff returned half-heartedly to their stations, the clattering and sizzling sounds of the kitchen slowly coming back to life.

  May turned back to her brother. “Micah, come into my office so we can discuss this in private.”

  Micah ignored her and gestured toward the dining room. “Don’ you know they’re collectin’ from every business in the U Street corridor? Everyone else on this block is smart enough to know wha’s best for them. Why can’t you do that, too?” He spread his hands in an imploring gesture. “You deny them, who knows what they do to your restaurant—or to you? I don’ want you to get hurt, Sis.”

  “No,” May shrieked and pointed toward the door to the dining room. “No, no, no. Now you go back out there and tell them they are barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

  Micah’s shoulders drooped and his head sagged as he slouched through the kitchen door. May watched him go, her stern expression crumpling as the door swung shut behind him.

  I went to her and she collapsed into my arms. “I don’t know what to do with that boy,” she moaned. “Every time he visits me, he brings trouble. I thought I was finished with those sharks out there extortin’ money from all the business owners. They knew I wasn’t bitin’ and Mr. Benson next door wasn’t bitin’ and they’d left us alone. And we were gettin’ others on this street to do the same. Now Micah comes along and here they are again.”

  I s
tepped back and held her at arm’s length, looking into her face. “Why don’t I get Daniel involved? These thugs need to be stopped. You should be able to do an honest day’s business without worrying about your safety.”

  “No, Trudie. Please.” May shook her head, adamantly. “Do not bring the police into this. That will only make it worse. I can handle it. I’m fine.”

  “Okay,” I said, not really sure I would honor her request. “Now, listen. I came into the kitchen to see your new oven. So let’s see it.”

  Her eyes lit up as she led me to Mecca.

  Gus, her husky executive chef, stood in front of the oven with his arms crossed, reminding me of Mr. Clean. May nodded to him and he moved aside so I could get a look.

  My breath hitched as I beheld her new oven-range. “A Wolf,” I exclaimed. “A big Wolf.”

  “A Wolf Challenger XL,” May added, beaming with pride. “Seventy-two inches wide. Retails for over eight thousand. But I had the cash, so Chez Roux sold it to me for half price.”

  If that beauty hadn’t been so hot from cooking all evening, I would have run my hands over its surfaces, over the twelve burners and the multiple oven racks. I hugged May again. “Congratulations, honey. You’ve worked hard for this.”

  Micah returned, a sour look on his face. “Okay, Sis. Done. But don’t blame me if they come breakin’ up your place in the middle of the night.”

  I thought back to the month before when almost everything in my company warehouse had been brutally destroyed--all the storage shelving overturned, shattering every bit of china and glassware I owned. May and her restaurant and food-truck friends had come to the rescue, cleaned up the mess and provided supplies to hold me over until the insurance settlement came through.

  I put my arm around May. “If anyone ever tried to destroy this place, your friends would come to the rescue. And I’d be the first in line to help.”