Fine Dining

by Gale Deitch

  Zach mumbled something and I heard a woman’s voice in the background.

  “Hey, where are you? Who are you talking to?”

  He cleared his throat. “Ally. I’m at Ally’s place. I was just telling her what happened.”

  I smiled. Zach had had a thing for Ally Schwartz for years, and as I’d discovered last month when I was trying to find out who killed her father, she’d had a thing for him as well. “So, you’re seeing Ally now?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean? Are you or aren’t you seeing her?”

  “Trudie, this is kind of awkward right now.”

  “I see. You can’t say anything with her right there. Okay, we’ll talk tomorrow at the office.” I couldn’t wait to find out. Zach deserved whatever happiness he could get. He’d been put in bad situations too often over the years, usually because of Ally. But when I’d found out that she really cared for Zach, I put aside my resentment and only wished them the best together.

  “Trudie, Ally asked if May has an attorney.”

  “An attorney?” You have the right to an attorney, that she-cop had recited to May. “I don’t know. She was totally incommunicative after she found the body. Tell Ally I’ll call the attorney who helped at your arraignment.”

  After hanging up, I rummaged through my purse until I found the attorney’s card. Alan Bernstein. It was after midnight, but this couldn’t wait. I dialed the number. The phone rang three times before he picked up.

  “Bernstein.” His voice was groggy. Clearly I’d woken him up.

  “Mr. Bernstein, this is Trudie Fine. You helped my friend, Zachary Cohen, last month.”

  “Oh, yes,” he said, sounding more alert. “I remember you, Miss Fine. What can I help you with?”

  I explained what had happened that evening and about May’s arrest. I spoke fast, hardly taking a breath. When I was done, I was panting as if I’d been in a timed cooking competition.

  “Okay. I’ll contact the police to find out the charges and where Ms. Dubois is being held.” He paused. “It’s late, though. Let’s let her sleep and I’ll visit her first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Mr. Bernstein, I don’t know her financial situation. But she’s a good friend, and I’d be willing to help pay some of your retainer, if need be.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now. First things first. I’ll find out what I can, and after I visit with her tomorrow morning, why don’t you meet me for coffee and we’ll discuss the case? Say, ten o’clock? The Starbucks by the courthouse?”

  His impressive efficiency and decisiveness calmed me. “Okay, I’ll be there. Ten o’clock at Starbucks.”

  I was still awake when Daniel came in about one-thirty in the morning.

  He sat down on the side of the bed and sighed. His shirt was rumpled, his hair disheveled, his jacket gone and probably still with May. “Hey,” he said. He leaned over and rested his head on my chest.

  “Hey.” I tried to be nice, but I still couldn’t shake my anger. A hint of someone’s perfume, definitely not mine, hovered around him.

  “Trudie, I’m sorry. I know this is tough for you, but we had no choice.”

  I pushed him off of me and sat up. “No choice? You know May, and you know she’s not capable of murder. You were there, for heaven’s sake.”

  Daniel looked stunned. “Yes, I was there. So were you. And what we witnessed was an outraged woman who was then found next to her brother’s body with a bloody knife in her hand. Jesus, Trudie. We had no choice but to arrest her.”

  Logically, I understood this completely; but emotionally, I just couldn’t accept it. I shook my head at him then turned away.

  He stood up and started pacing. “In deference to you, Trudie, I had every person in that restaurant interrogated, even those innocent diners who never once left their seats.”

  “In deference to me? What about May? What about giving her the benefit of the doubt? She’s my friend.”

  “That psycho last month was your friend. Should I have given him the benefit of the doubt? You wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t investigated him.”

  I knew he was making a good point but still needed to convince Daniel he’d made a mistake tonight. “True, but look who you arrested for Mr. Schwartz’s murder. Zach, of all people. Again, the wrong person. And while he was in jail, your whole investigation stalled while the real killer stalked me.”

  I stood up, pulled the blanket and my pillow off the bed and headed out of the bedroom.

  His eyes widened. “Where are you going?”

  “I won’t get into bed with a traitor. And you smell like that Sergeant what’s-her-name. Oh yes, Flowers. I’m sleeping on the sofa.”

  “Oh, no you’re not.” He pulled the pillow and blanket away from me and hurled them back onto the bed. “If anyone’s sleeping on the sofa, it will be me, the traitor.” He grabbed his pillow and stalked out of the room.

  I turned out the light, laid back in bed and twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable. What had happened to our romantic night out—to be followed by a romantic night in? I slept in fits of sleep and wakefulness, dreaming of May and Micah, the men at the corner table, Mr. Benson at the back door, and that bloody chef’s knife clutched in May’s hand.

  Chapter Three

  I awoke to Daniel sitting on the side of the bed stroking my hair. He was dressed for work in his “uniform,” the navy blazer, white shirt and khaki pants he wore most days when I couldn’t convince him otherwise. When I’d first met Daniel, and in the days that followed, he was always in that same outfit, rumpled like a bag of fast food burgers.

  Once we’d begun dating, though, I’d taken him shopping for other perfectly good options, including a tan blazer and the gray jacket he’d worn last night, along with three coordinating pairs of trousers. Still he persisted in dressing in his usual garb on a daily basis. I’d finally given in but insisted he buy two of the same navy blazer, three pairs of khakis and several white shirts. At least they were always clean and pressed.

  Mellowed from the night’s sleep, I yawned and stretched. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning. The traitor who slept on the couch last night brought you a cup of coffee and today’s Post. Am I forgiven yet?”

  I sat up against my pillow. “All of this will work strongly in your favor. I could use some coffee.”

  “Does that mean I can kiss you?” He leaned toward me, his bangs falling across his forehead in that appealing way I loved.

  I leaned in to his kiss and put my arms around his neck, drawing him closer, but as I hung on to him, my mind drifted to the horrific events of the night before. I pulled back. “Did it make the papers?”

  Daniel pulled out the Metro section. There it was on the front page. “Restaurateur Arrested for Brother’s Murder.” I couldn’t believe they’d gotten it into the paper so quickly, but I remembered some press showing up last night soon after the police. I skimmed the article, which was very sketchy. Then I noticed quotes from Detective Daniel Goldman. I glanced up and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For holding back on the details, keeping it all very general.”

  “That’s my job,” he said, taking the newspaper out of my hand. “Only the facts and no more.”

  “But you didn’t even provide all the facts, how we found May out there leaning over her brother’s body with the knife in her hand.”

  “It’s an ongoing investigation, Trudie. We’re allowed to hold back details of the crime.”

  I kissed him on the cheek. “Well, thank you anyway. Where is May?”

  “At Washington Hospital Center, in the psychiatric unit. I’ll call and check on her this morning.”

  “And when she’s released from the hospital?”

  “She was arrested, so she’ll be processed at the detention center. Then there will be an arraignment and a bond hearing. Hopefully, the judge will let her out on bail.”

  “Hopefully?” I
asked.

  “She’s going to need a lawyer to get her out. They’ll appoint one for her if she doesn’t have her own.”

  I sat up straight, my chin turned up. “I’ve already taken care of that.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened. “You have? When? You just woke up.”

  “Last night. When I got home. Zach and Ally suggested I get her a lawyer, so I called the one who helped Zach at his arraignment.”

  “You spoke to Zach and Ally last night?”

  I shook my head. “So many questions. Stop talking to me like a detective. And yes, I spoke to both of them. They were together.” I dropped my legs over the side of the bed. “In fact, I have to shower and dress. I’m meeting the lawyer at ten—after he visits with May.”

  Daniel pulled me closer to him and murmured into my ear. “And who’s going to pay for this lawyer?” He began to nibble on my lobe.

  I squirmed. He knew he’d pressed one of my buttons. “I don’t know. We’ll work it out. Daniel, I’ve got to get ready.”

  “It’s only eight o’clock. You’ve got plenty of time.” He leaned me back onto the bed and took off his jacket.

  “You have to get to work, don’t you?”

  “Well, I worked late last night, even though I was off duty. And we never got to complete our romantic evening. So I’d consider this comp time, wouldn’t you?” He unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor.

  I grinned. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

  I ENTERED STARBUCKS wearing my lime sherbet sundress with a short-sleeved navy sweater and navy sandals. I spotted Alan Bernstein sitting at a table talking on his cellphone. When he noticed me, he hung up and stood to greet me.

  He held out his hand to shake mine. “Trudie, nice to see you again.”

  “Thanks for meeting me, Mr. Bernstein,” I said, offering my hand, which he quickly enveloped in both of his.

  “Alan. Call me Alan. I was glad I could do it.”

  I remembered the boyish face and the bronze eyes and those long, dark lashes that seemed out of place against his straight, sandy hair. What I didn’t remember was his wide smile that immediately made me feel like a welcomed guest.

  “What can I order for you?” he asked.

  “A Grande sugar-free Caramel Macchiato with skim, no whip.”

  I sat down at the table while he gave my order to the barista at the counter. He wore a tailored gray pin-striped suit, and when he turned back to our table, I noticed his silk lavender tie. Expensive clothes must mean costly billable hours. Last time, when he had helped Zach at his arraignment, Mrs. Schwartz had paid his retainer, and the bail.

  As soon as he handed me my coffee, I got right down to business. “Did you get to see May this morning?”

  “I did. At the hospital.”

  I leaned forward. “How was she? She was in shock last night. Couldn’t even speak.”

  “Still very upset, as you would expect. But rested.”

  “Was she talking?”

  He paused. “At first she seemed skeptical about why I was there. But after I explained that you had called me, she began to open up. She has a great deal of guilt built up inside of her.”

  “Guilt for what? Mr. Bern…I mean Alan, I do not believe she killed her brother.”

  “Not guilt about the murder. More about the things she said to him before it happened. She deeply regrets speaking to him that way and mourns the fact that it’s too late to tell him she’s sorry.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “Ms. Dubois has a great deal of regard for you, Trudie. She thinks of you as family. Because of something you did for her when she had no one to turn to. Feels as if she owes you. What could you have done for her that she feels this way when her brother’s just been murdered?”

  I flushed. I loved May like a sister and certainly didn’t want her feeling indebted to me. “May owes me nothing. All I did was give her a place to stay after Hurricane Katrina when the floods in New Orleans washed away her home and her business. She’s the one who created her own success here in D.C. I just gave her a bed to sleep in.”

  “She’s worried about the restaurant, too. This is going to be bad press, the murder, her arrest.”

  “Yes, I guess it will,” I said, remembering how worried I was about our business when Mr. Schwartz had been murdered at the party Zach and I catered.

  “She also asked me to apologize to you.”

  “Apologize? For what?”

  “Evidently your romantic dinner was ruined.” He lifted his eyebrows as if questioning me.

  “That’s ridiculous. Her brother was killed. Why would she worry about me and my evening?”

  I could sense the meter ticking and my bank account being depleted, so I steered the conversation back to the reason for this meeting. “Listen, Alan. Tell me what you can do for May right now. She’s lost her brother, and I really don’t want her to spend even one night in jail. Can you help with that?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I can do that. I spoke with the doctors, who say she will most likely be released tomorrow morning. I can work to get the arraignment and bond hearing expedited so she’ll be free tomorrow afternoon.”

  “You can do that? Really?”

  “I can. But there are a couple of things you should know.” He looked me directly in the eye. “She’ll need your help.”

  “Okay. I’m willing to do whatever May needs. What can I do?”

  “First, she’s worried about keeping her restaurant going while she’s in the hospital. She wants you to take it over for a couple of days. She has reservations on the books for tonight and tomorrow. She wanted to know if you were free.”

  “Run her restaurant? But she has an executive chef, several cooks and servers. They can handle the restaurant.”

  “She said she needs a manager—and she specifically chose you, Trudie.”

  I thought about this a moment. I knew how her restaurant operated and didn’t think she needed anyone to manage it. Maybelline’s seemed to run itself. On the other hand, I didn’t have any catering jobs scheduled for the next few days. “Okay. If that’s what she wants, I’ll do it.”

  “Good.” He paused and leaned toward me. “There’s one other thing that I’ll have to know before the arraignment.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The judge will release May, but because of the seriousness of the crime, it might help if you agreed to let her stay with you. She’ll need someone to take responsibility for her, to assure the authorities that she will remain in town and out of trouble.”

  “And you’re thinking I should be that person. Correct?”

  “Correct. She’d have to live with you. Since you’ve taken her in before, I wouldn’t think it would be a problem now. Would it?”

  With my elbows on the table, I held my cup of coffee in both hands and considered this. “Well, it wouldn’t be. Except that I don’t have my own place. Not since…well, I live at my mom and dad’s house and spend some of the time at Daniel’s.”

  “Could she stay with you at one of those places?”

  “Well, I couldn’t invite her to stay at Daniel’s house, especially with him being the officer at the crime scene.”

  Alan gaped at me. “Detective Daniel Goldman? That’s your boyfriend? That was the romantic dinner that was ruined last night?”

  “Well, yes. So what?” I took a sip of my Macchiato.

  “So what?” Alan shook his head and chuckled. “Excuse the expression, but oy gevalt! You’re stuck between the accused murderer and a police officer who was a key witness at the scene of the crime.”

  I spit out an entire mouthful of coffee right onto Alan Bernstein’s lavender silk tie. I jumped up, grabbed some napkins and began dabbing at his splattered tie, only to make the stains grow larger. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Bernstein. Send me the cleaning bill, and I’ll pay it, whatever it is. Or I’ll buy you a new tie.”

  He dipped his head to view the destruction I’d caused and burst out lau
ghing.

  I looked around and noticed several people watching us with interest.

  Alan unknotted the tie and slipped it off his neck, then rolled it up and tossed it across the room into the trash can. “Three points,” he yelled, and an outburst of applause and cheers followed from the onlookers.

  A look of shock must have registered on my face, causing Alan to put his hand on mine. “Don’t worry, Trudie. It’s no big deal. I keep a few ties in my car for occasions just like this.”

  “You’ve had other occasions like this?”

  He smirked. “More or less. Sometimes clients get a little belligerent and purposely throw coffee in my face.”

  Now it was my turn to open my mouth to gape it him.

  He waved his hand as if to swat away a pesky fly. “Comes with the job but no hazard pay. But listen, let’s get back to this situation with Ms. Dubois, do you think she could stay at your parents’ house? In that situation, you would have to live there full time as well, of course.”

  “My parents would love that, but I wouldn’t want to put that responsibility on them.” A thought occurred to me. “What if I moved in with May, into her house? I know she has room because her brother’s been living there the past few weeks. It might be best for her to live in familiar surroundings anyway.”

  “Good idea. That will work. I think the judge will be fine with it.”

  “One more thing,” I said, trying to decide how to phrase my question but then just blurting it out. “How much is all this going to cost? I can help some with the retainer, but I’m just getting my business going.”

  Alan held his hand up. “No worries. May’s got that covered. And the things you’ve agreed to are all the help she needs right now.”

  I stood up to leave. “Let me pay you for my coffee.”

  “Absolutely not,” he said, getting up from his seat. “This one’s on me. Literally.” He looked down at his shirt, which had also been a target of my projectile coffee. That wide smile spread across his face and he took both of my hands in his. “Ms. Dubois is fortunate to have a friend like you, Trudie.”