by Lynn Cahoon
Angie wanted to tell him that his response sealed his title as the worse boyfriend ever, but she saw him glance up and a look of fear crossed his face. Then, it was gone and replaced with the calm, slightly calculating look he mostly wore.
She followed his gaze and Mrs. Potter stood at the table, staring pointedly at Javier.
“That’s my seat, young man.”
Javier popped up and pulled out the chair. “Just keeping it warm, ma’am.”
She slipped into the chair and, without looking at him, said, “Thank you.”
“Well, I better get back to my group. I’m sure he’s ready to give me the bad news unless he has more to review on his list of disappointments I’ve caused in my lifetime.” He nodded to Mrs. Potter and Angie. “Have a nice dinner, ladies.”
As he walked away, Mrs. Potter took a sip of water, focusing her gaze on Angie. After touching a napkin to her lips, she cleared her throat. “That man is trouble. You should stay away from him.”
“I’m not interested in dating Javier. Ian and I are doing fine.” Angie started in on the salad the waitress had brought them as they settled in for dinner. “But I’m curious, what do you know about Javier?”
“Besides he’s a cad? I’ve heard the woman talk at church. More than one young, innocent thing has fallen for his charms only to have her heart broken sooner rather than later.” She examined a crouton, then set it aside. “He’s only interested in one thing. Sex. That poor girl must have gotten in his way to the next conquest.”
Angie glanced over at the table where the older man was now shaking his finger at Javier. And the brother, he was grinning from ear to ear, watching the show. “No family love lost there.”
“Between Javier and Stephen? Those boys have always been oil and water, or Cain and Abel, to use a biblical example, from the time Stephen was born and took the spotlight from his older brother.” Mrs. Potter looked at Angie and laughed. “Dear, you don’t get to be my age without hearing something about every person who lives or lived in River Vista. The Easterly family had a farm here in the valley years ago when Mr. Potter and I started our own place. The boys went to River Vista Elementary when I used to work in the office. They were always fighting.”
Angie finished her salad as she listened to Mrs. Potter talk about her thoughts about the family. She hadn’t expected to learn so much about Javier from her houseguest. Maybe she should talk to her more about the past. Sometimes, history gives perspective of what’s going on now. But all she did know was she wanted to know more about Javier’s brother Stephen. Could he have a reason to frame his brother?
By the time they were done with dinner, Mrs. Potter looked worn out, and Javier and his dinner guests were long gone. Driving home, Angie turned on the music at a low level, and before they got out of town and across the river, Mrs. Potter was snoring in the passenger seat. Angie smiled and focused on the road and Heather’s death. Tomorrow she’d be busy in the kitchen running through the weekend’s menu. She had Estebe coming in as well as Hope to give her some cooking time. Maybe she’d casually broach the subject of Stephen then.
As soon as they were home, she pulled out her calendar to check on her plans for tomorrow and remembered she had agreed to go to the volunteer breakfast for the festival. It was going to be a long day. Breakfast started at nine, and it was close to an hour drive to the site in old-town Boise. She was surprised that Estebe had agreed to come into work that afternoon, but maybe he’d just forgotten to tell her he couldn’t come. She’d call in Matt for some hours if Estebe called off. Between him and Hope, they should be fine.
She knew the dry run wasn’t really necessary, but she felt practice made perfect, and if there was going to be a problem with the menu, she’d rather find it before customers were waiting to eat.
Mrs. Potter had already gone to bed by the time Angie started turning lights off around the house. Having her around hadn’t been that big a deal. Well, except for the fire thing. And the fact she’d destroyed the kitchen. Angie glanced around at the mess and just turned off the light. Dom looked at her as they made their way to the stairs. “It’s just a week,” she explained to the dog as they went to the bedroom. “Things will go back to normal around here as soon as Erica gets home.”
Dom sank into his bed with a huff, apparently not agreeing with Angie’s strategy of path of least resistance, but she was too tired to do anything else.
* * * *
Angie finally found a place to park two blocks away from the community center. If this was just the attendees for the volunteer breakfast, she’d hate to see how crowded it was going to be next weekend with the actual festival. Matt called to her from across the street. She waited on the sidewalk for him to catch up.
Jaywalking across the street, he grinned as he fell into step with Angie. “Hey, boss. I don’t know if Estebe told you, but I’m your sous chef today. He said he’ll be at work tomorrow, but he needed the day. Apparently, he’s having family issues.”
“I wondered if I needed to call you in.” Angie shook her head. She should have realized that Estebe would have taken care of his replacement if he wasn’t going to be able to show up. “I’m surprised he didn’t call me, though.”
“He said he did. Maybe it skipped his mind. I don’t know about you, but if my cousin had killed someone, I’d be a mess.” Matt held the door open for her.
She was going to ask him why he thought Javier had killed Heather, but the noise from the crowd of people made it impossible to talk. Matt took her arm and pointed toward the number 54 in the middle of a table near the back.
“I think we’re over there.” He took her hand and they weaved through the people standing, chatting, and in a few cases, hugging. The atmosphere was jovial, friendly, and, to Angie, felt like one big family.
The room quieted and everyone made their way to their assigned tables. Angie looked around to see what had clued the group into the program starting. At the front of the room, Javier’s uncle stood behind a podium with Stephen by his side.
“Here we go,” Matt whispered in her ear as they quickly found their seats. The anticipation in the room could be cut with a knife. The older man tapped on the microphone and started to speak.
Chapter 9
“Thank you all for coming this morning. Next week will be our twenty-fifth annual celebration. I’m Ander Diaz, but most of you call me Papa.” Cheers came from the room as well as chants of “Papa” over and over. He waved the crowd down, and they quickly quieted. “I expect to have a big announcement at the end of the festival this year. I hope you will all support my decisions.”
With that, he turned and walked away from the podium. Surprise covered the face of one woman, who apparently expected the talk to go longer. She was dressed in a bright red pantsuit, and she ran up to the empty microphone and pasted on a smile. Angie glanced at Matt, who seemed just as surprised as the rest of the people in the room.
“Well, now that Papa Diaz has given us his blessing for this lovely meal, I’d like to invite up Father Morin for the benediction before we eat. Oh, and the dancer troupe will be onstage as soon as we start serving, so enjoy your breakfast. And thank you all for your time and effort to make our festivals successful.” She waved a man in a black suit with a white collar up to the podium and then stepped back.
“Clearly things aren’t running as usual.” Matt leaned toward her and whispered, “I think Papa typically takes a bit more time in the limelight.”
Angie wondered if the meeting with Javier and Stephen last night had something to do with his clipped message. She looked around the table and realized she didn’t know the people sitting with them.
Then Estebe sat next to her and smiled. “Good morning. I’m happy you made it.”
“I’m so glad you invited us.” Angie glanced around the room, decorated with flags and banners. “You guys go all out.”
“Just
wait until the dancers get onstage. You’re going to love that.” Estebe held a hand out to Matt. “Thank you for covering for me today.”
Matt shook his hand. “No problem, dude. I could use the extra hours.”
Estebe glanced at the other people at the table. “Hope and her family almost fill the chairs.”
Angie glanced over and saw Hope waving at her from the other side of the table. She waved back and called over the din, “I didn’t see you over there.”
Hope stood and came around to Angie’s side. “I think I was in the bathroom when you came in. Boy, that place is crowded. The dancers were all in there getting ready for their performance. I wish I had a hobby like that.”
“When would you have time?” Matt shook his head. “If you’re not working, you’re in class. Hobbies are for people who aren’t trying to build a career.”
“I have hobbies,” Angie stated. “I read and take care of my pets and garden. And I cook.”
“You cook because it’s your passion.” Estebe said.
Hope hurried back to her seat as the servers set plates of sausages, eggs, and potato hash in front of them. A second server sat large glasses of juice in front of each place and then a woman filled their coffee cups and left two carafes on the table. “Enjoy,” she called out before she left.
Angie put her napkin on her plate. “This is amazing. I don’t know if I can eat all this.”
“Make sure to save some room for dessert. It’s a huckleberry cobbler.” Estebe focused on his own plate. “Tell me if the sausage is too spicy. I made it yesterday.”
Matt held up a slice. “Man, this is amazing. You’re a sausage god.”
“I’m pleased you like it.” Estebe blushed at Matt’s praise. The group ate with a few comments here and there, especially when the dancers came on the stage.
Angie felt a sensory overload with the smells, the tastes, and the colors flying by her. If this was just a prelude to the actual festival, she was going to drag Felicia down here at least one day while it was happening.
After the cobbler came, with vanilla ice cream on top that Estebe had failed to mention, Angie groaned. “I’m stuffed. But there’s no way I’m letting this go to waste. It’s so good.”
“My mother’s recipe.” Estebe smiled. “I would share it with you, but she insists it has to stay in the family.”
“Challenge accepted. I’ll have to find some huckleberries and start experimenting. This would be a lovely dessert for the County Seat.” Angie closed her mind and let the tastes explode in her mouth, trying to separate each flavor out to the ingredient.
“That’s our boss, always looking for the next menu selection.” Matt stood up. “I’ve got to go run some errands before work. I’ll see you later.”
“I need to get back to the kitchen as well.” Estebe smiled at her. “They haven’t adopted your ‘I cook, you clean’ motto yet. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Hope and her family left soon after, and Angie realized she was alone at the table. She was about to stand and leave when an older woman plopped down in the chair that Estebe had vacated.
“Are you having a good time?” the woman asked, pushing Estebe’s dish away from her and toward the middle of the table.
“It was lovely. I was just about to head out, though. Work calls.” Angie started to stand, but the woman put a hand on her arm.
“Sit, talk to me a while.” She held Angie’s gaze until she sank back into the chair. “That’s better. Let me introduce myself. I’m Carlotta Mendoza.”
“Nice to meet you. Angie…”
“Turner, I know. You’re Estebe’s boss at that new place in River Vista.” Carlotta’s eyes twinkled. “The boy talks about you all the time. I believe he has a crush on you.”
“Oh, no, we’re just friends.” Angie didn’t want any rumors to get started.
But it was like Carlotta didn’t even hear her response. “And Javier, he seems to think you can get him out of this mess he’s gotten into. Are you a private investigator as well as a chef?”
“No, just a chef, I’m afraid.” Angie studied the woman’s face carefully. She acted friendly, but something underneath gave Angie the chills. She was definitely not saying something that she wanted Angie to hear.
“A chef should stay in her own kitchen. It’s a dangerous world out there. Just look at what happened to poor Heather.” Carlotta’s eyes narrowed.
Angie felt a stab of fear but didn’t understand why this total stranger was making her feel that way. She gripped her chair, looking for a way out, but as she was planning, a young woman came up to the table.
“Mother, there you are. Stephen went to get the car. He sent me to come find you.” She looked over at Angie. “Oh, you’re Estebe’s friend. He’s told us all about you and that restaurant of yours. Stephen and I have reservations for mid-August after this whole festival is done. We’ll be ready for some downtime. I’m Kendra.”
Angie took the chance and stood, moving away from Carlotta, and held her hand out to greet Kendra. “Nice to meet you.”
“Silly, we don’t shake hands here, especially with close friends.” Kendra pulled her into a hug. “So very nice to meet you. I’m looking forward to finding out all about you soon. We should do lunch.”
“Kendra, let’s go.” Stephen stood by the door and waved her toward it. He looked calm, cool, and smug. Javier had already disappeared from the room.
“He’s always so busy. Run, run, run.” Kendra held a hand up to help her mother out of the chair and they started toward the door. Kendra called over her shoulder, “See you soon, Angie.”
Carlotta didn’t say anything, but she turned and stared at Angie as they left the room.
“That was weird.” A young woman stood next to her, clearing plates off the table. “Mrs. Mendoza isn’t friendly with most people, but she sure doesn’t like you. What did you do, take one of the prizes she set up for her precious daughter?”
“I never met her before.” Angie shook her head and headed back to her car. Her thoughts kept going back to the conversation with Carlotta. When she got back to River Vista, she headed straight for the County Seat. Time to cook. Cooking made sense.
Hope was sitting on the steps when she arrived. Angie quickly locked up the car and headed to the back door with her keys jangling in her hand. “Hey, why didn’t you ring up Felicia’s apartment and have her let you in?”
“That’s all right. I haven’t been here long, and it was too nice a day to wait in my car.” Hope stood to let Angie pass by her.
Angie turned as she slipped the key into the lock. Hope was staring down the alley toward the Red Eye. When she caught Angie looking at her, she pointed. “That’s where Heather died?”
“Yes.” Angie put her purse on the floor to keep the door from closing all the way and then walked over to where Hope stood. “I’m sorry about your loss.”
“It’s not like we were real close.” Hope sniffed as she wiped a stray tear off her cheek. “I don’t know why it’s affecting me so hard.”
“Maybe because you relate to her and it scares you.” Angie watched Hope’s face, wondering if she’d been too direct for the young woman.
Hope shrugged. “Maybe. All she wanted was to be loved. Is that a crime?”
“No, no, it’s not.”
They stood there in silence, staring down the alleyway for a few minutes.
Hope was the first to break the silence. “We came to cook. I guess we better get busy.”
“I find cooking eases the questions in my head. It’s pure. No one’s going to get between you and the food.” Angie followed her inside.
“You make cooking sound like a prayer.”
Angie shrugged. “Maybe that’s what it’s made for. To bring peace to the hands that prepared the food and nourish the ones who eat the food.”
“My
grandfather used to say something like that before dinner prayers every Sunday.” Hope smiled at the memory. “He’s been gone three years, and I still see him at the head of the table. Good memories can help during times like this. I’m going to just think of the good times I had with Heather.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Angie flipped the lights on in the kitchen. “Now let’s cook.”
Matt soon joined them, and the three of them made the entire weekend menu. It helped Angie see where the roadblocks to quality service would show up and if the recipes were detailed enough for anyone to replicate. It was her version of a dress rehearsal. When they were done, Angie smiled at the spread sitting at the chef table. “Let’s go check these amazeballs recipes and talk about what worked and what didn’t. We need to know now, so we can get it fixed before time for service.”
They were discussing the main course dishes when Felicia and Sheriff Brown walked into the kitchen.
“Uh-oh, the man is here.” Mark held up his hands in fake surrender. “I give up. Don’t shoot me.”
“Matt, you don’t need to be rude.” Angie shook her head. “Sorry, Sheriff.”
“I’m not being rude, that’s my funny side.” Matt took a bite of the chicken dish. “But I’m sorry too, it was probably in bad taste.”
“You’re lucky I’m too busy to run your name, young man.” Sheriff Brown winked at her, then nodded toward Angie’s office. “Can we talk in private?”
“Sure.” Angie follow him into her office, then closed the door. “What’s going on?”
“When was the last time you saw Javier?” He eased himself onto the couch in her office.
“I don’t remember seeing him at the festival breakfast, but I saw him last night when I took Mrs. Potter to the restaurant in Murphy. He was there with his uncle and brother. Why?”
“Javier is missing.”
Chapter 10
“What do you mean, missing?” Angie couldn’t wrap herself around what the Sheriff was saying. She sank back down into her chair. “Like kidnapped?”
