by Lynn Cahoon
“Here. His name is Thomas Post.” Felicia pointed to the picture of the smiling Thomas-slash-Jerry with a caption under his photo. “He’s a big shot in the local theater community and even owns the place downtown where they have a dinner theater five times a year.”
“Thomas Post used a Jerry Reno credit card last Friday night at the Red Eye.” She glanced at her friend. “Have you seen him in there?”
“No, and I would have remembered. The guys who frequent the Red Eye are nice, but not amazingly handsome like this guy. Even if he was with someone, I would have noticed him.” Felicia grinned. “I have an eye for handsome men. What can I say, it’s a weakness.”
“I’m running over to the police station.” Angie picked up the paper. “I’ll be back in time to start service.”
“What did you find?” Felicia called after her. “Tell me.”
She couldn’t stop to chat; she just needed Sheriff Brown to have this piece of the puzzle as soon as possible. Once Heather’s killer was found, she’d get her sous chef back and not have to worry about him. At least that was the plan.
Chapter 11
“You can’t have my phone. What am I supposed to do without it? It has all my contacts.” Hope banged her fist on the counter in front of the police receptionist. “This is just bureaucratic nonsense. Give it back and I’ll forward you the texts.”
“Miss, I’m sorry, but that would break chain of evidence. We appreciate your cooperation, and as soon as the investigation is over, your property will be returned.” He handed her a receipt. “Just come back with that in about sixty days…”
“Sixty days? Are you nuts?” Hope turned and saw Angie standing behind her. She’d come into the small lobby about five minutes earlier, but both Hope and the police officer had been too busy to notice. “Angie, you have to tell them. I can’t be without my phone that long. I’ll go nuts. And I can’t afford to buy a new one.”
Angie put her hand on Hope’s shoulder. “We’ll get you a second phone for as long as you need it. This was my fault. I sent you down here to talk to Sheriff Brown.” She focused on the officer. “Where is the sheriff?”
“He’s already gone home for the night. It’s his anniversary, so he left on time for once.” The man crossed his arms. “I’m not calling him in for a few texts. He can see this first thing in the morning.”
“Well, when he does, give him this too.” Angie handed him the newspaper along with the copy of the credit card that Barb had given her. “Your man in that picture was going by an assumed name and probably knows more than any of us about what happened to Heather. But I’m sure the sheriff won’t be upset if he decides to bolt overnight.”
The officer sighed and picked up the phone. “His wife is going to kill him and probably me for making this call. I’m still not giving back the phone. You both can leave the station, and thank you for your cooperation.”
When they got outside, Angie realized Hope was crying. “It’s okay, it’s only a phone. I’ll pay for a second line to your account and you should be able to transfer all your contacts over.”
“You don’t have to pay for it. I’ll find a way.” Hope sniffed as they walked up the street back toward the County Seat.
Angie shook her head. “No, I’m the one who sent you down to talk to Sheriff Brown. Go down and get a new phone and I’ll pay the cost. Just bring me the receipt.”
Hope paused as she opened the door to the restaurant. “I could probably do without a phone until they return it.”
“And how am I supposed to get a hold of you if I need you to work another shift?” Angie shook her head. “That just won’t do. We have customers to think about.”
“I’ll make it as cheap as possible.” Hope hugged Angie tight. “Thank you so much.”
“Get the phone you need. I don’t want you to not be able to be online twenty-four-seven.” Angie stopped at the hostess station where Felicia was standing, watching them. “Go ask Nancy what she needs help with. I need to talk to Felicia.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
As Hope disappeared into the kitchen, Felicia leaned on the wooden podium. “Do I want to know what we just bought her?”
“Just a phone. That uptight receptionist took hers into evidence and wouldn’t give it back. She needs something so we can get a hold of her.” Angie squirmed a little under Felicia’s unwavering gaze. “I probably should have asked you first.”
“No need. We both have a little bit of a slush fund when it comes to employee benefits. I would say this situation fits.” Felicia held out the reservation list. “I wanted you to see this.”
Angie glanced at the paper. Every slot was filled, with a list of names and numbers at the bottom. “We’re fully booked? After only a month in business?”
“Well, yes, I thought you knew that.” She pointed a pen at a name at the end of the page. “I wanted you to see this.”
Angie read the name. “Ander Diaz? Papa Diaz is coming here to eat tonight?”
“A party of one. Which is weird. From what I’ve heard about the old man, he typically has an entourage of people with him.” Felicia shrugged when Angie gave her a pointed look. “What, you’re the only one who can poke their nose into other people’s business?”
She ignored the barb. “Maybe he’s coming to see how Estebe is doing?”
The door opened behind her. “Who knows, but for now, it’s showtime.” Felicia put on a wide smile and greeted the new arrivals. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”
Angie quickly walked away and said a silent prayer, hoping that Estebe would be in the kitchen when she opened the door. Maybe if she wished hard enough, he’d appear. She let out a disappointed sigh when the sous chef wasn’t behind the large cookstove. “First guests are in the house. Are we ready for service?”
A trio of “Yes, chef” filled the kitchen, making Angie smile. Especially when she saw the grin on Hope’s face. They could get by for a few hours without Estebe, but with the place fully booked, sooner or later the inexperience of the girl would start to show.
Angie had just expedited another eight-top when the back door flew open. Estebe hurried through the door, pulling on his chef coat as he walked. She glanced at the clock. Just a little after seven. “Thanks for gracing us with your presence.”
“I told Felicia I was going to be late. Is that not enough?” He took his normal spot on the cook line and glanced at Nancy, who stepped aside. “What are you working on?”
Nancy ran him through the dishes in progress as a new ticket spat out from the automated ordering system.
“Two-top, strawberry salad and a bowl of Famous Idaho Soup.” Angie read off the appetizers and got a solid “Yes, chef” in return. She turned to Estebe and lowered her voice. “Everything all right? Did you find him?”
The grief in his eyes when he looked at her answered both questions. Estebe was most definitely not all right, and Javier hadn’t been found. “It’s hard on the family. His mother is emotional.” He cleared his throat. “But I am here to work, not talk about my troubles. Thank you for your concern.”
“Just let me know if you need anything. I know you’re off next week, but if you need to have tomorrow too…”
Before she could finish the question, he shook his head. “No. I will be at work tomorrow and on time. I apologize for my tardiness today. Now I must focus on these entrées.”
Angie knew she’d been shut down. He didn’t want to talk about what was going on, so she’d honor that. Besides, she had enough people who did want to talk to her about Javier and Heather. Estebe was a grieving family member, not a source. She needed to help Sheriff Brown find Heather’s killer so Javier would come home and just be a thorn in Estebe’s side again. Now it looked like his cousin was carving a hole in his heart.
The service was flowing nicely even with Hope popping back and forth from the dishwashi
ng station as Estebe called her to watch him cook a steak or the trout. She kept a notebook in her pocket and wrote down everything he said. Angie had seen her studying the notebook before, but she’d thought it was for school, not learning the restaurant’s recipes. Angie’s cell phone buzzed, and when she looked at the display, she saw Ian’s number. A smile curved her lips as she stepped away from the expediting station and took the call.
“Hey, stranger. What are you doing?”
He chuckled. “Actually, I’m picking up my date for dinner.”
“Excuse me?” Angie’s eyebrows rose even though she knew he couldn’t see her expression.
“I’m taking Mrs. Potter out to grab a bite, so you don’t have to worry about her. We have plans for tomorrow night too.”
“Thank God. I was afraid she’d try to cook and burn the house down. And this time, the fire department wouldn’t come.” Angie straightened a stack of menus sitting on the chef table. “That was thoughtful. Thank you.”
“I am a very thoughtful man. Besides, Rob told me about the false alarm fire run. He was all excited since they beat their earlier record of getting out to the house by three minutes. I guess your grandmother had them on speed dial for her last caretaker. The woman couldn’t cook a piece of toast without burning it.”
At the mention of Nona’s caretaker, Angie felt her heart twinge. “I should have been there for her.”
“You were busy building a life. She knew that.” Ian’s tone softened. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I called you to make you happy, not sad.”
“You didn’t make me sad. Okay, maybe just a little. It’s been a stressful week. I don’t know how Erica does it.” Angie watched the dance of servers and chefs in the kitchen as she talked. This was what she’d always wanted, and Nona had supported her dreams. “It’s just regrets that won’t ever go away. I know she loved me. That’s not the issue. You never think they are going to leave as soon as they do.”
“Do you need me to come give you a hug?” Ian offered.
“Go have dinner. You’re doing something better than giving me a hug. You’re taking care of Mrs. Potter.” She paused a minute. “I really am grateful you jumped in on this. You’re pretty special.”
“And don’t you forget it. Oh, by the way, I’ve already fed the zoo, so don’t let Dom guilt you into another dinner when you get home.”
“Thanks.” A server was standing at the expediting section looking at the plates that had come up from the cook line. “I’ve got to get going. We still on for Tuesday?”
“I’ll be there bright and early to pick you up for breakfast. Take care.”
She hung up the phone and then hurried to the station. “What table?”
The server jumped back, surprised at Angie’s appearance. Apparently, she hadn’t seen her standing to the side. She lowered her voice as she glanced at Estebe on the other side of the kitchen. “Fourteen. It’s Papa Diaz. And he’s asked to speak with you.”
“Was something wrong with his appetizer?” Angie found the ticket and handed the server the plate.
“No, ma’am. He ate all of it and said it was wonderful. Then he asked for you specifically.” She placed the plate on a tray and held it over her shoulder. “Should I tell him you’re busy?”
“No, I’ll follow you out. Easier to deal with things now than let them pile up.” Besides, Angie was curious why the Basque community patriarch was asking for her and not Estebe. She paused at the kitchen door. “Going to do the dog-and-pony meet and greet. Be back in a few minutes. Estebe, can you expedite for me?”
She saw him nod, then heard the response. “Yes, chef.” She knew it was more out of habit or respect for the kitchen, but she appreciated his willingness to help build a well-running team.
She waited for the server to finish dropping off the food, then stood next to Papa’s table. “Mr. Diaz, I’m so honored you chose to dine with us tonight. Is everything satisfactory? Iris said you wanted to speak with me.”
He waved his fork at her. “Sit down. You’ve probably been standing all day.”
She pulled out the chair and sat across from him. From across the room, she saw the question on Felicia’s face, but she ignored it, focusing instead on Ander Diaz. The man filled out his suit with a few extra pounds. His large face was ruddy and his jowls hung down almost to his neck. A shock of white hair topped his head, but his deep blue eyes were sharp. “Thank you. What can I do for you?”
“Straight to the point. I like that in a woman. My wife is the direct sort as well. She doesn’t let me get away with much.” He took a sip of wine, watching her.
“I hope you bring her next time you come to the County Seat. Was she busy tonight?” Angie figured she knew the answer. Tonight was business, not pleasure. She just didn’t know what kind of business this powerful man could have with her.
“I will bring her the next time.” A small smile curved his lips. “You are sharp too. So I guess I’ll stop trying to figure you out and just ask what I want to know.”
She made a point of looking at her watch. “I think that would be best for both of us since I still have a full dining room to feed.”
He sat back, wiping his mouth with a white cloth napkin. “I want to know what you’ve found out about that unfortunate girl’s death.”
Shock hit Angie full force. How had he even known she’d been looking into Heather’s death? “I think you have me confused, I’m a chef, not a police officer.”
He laughed then, full and loud, but the sound was not unkind. “Oh, my dear, you are far more than a chef. I know you’re investigating because I have ears and eyes everywhere. And before you wonder, Estebe didn’t tell me.” He took another sip of his wine. “Although he does harbor kind feelings for you. I’m sure he thinks you can do anything.”
“Estebe is a good chef and a valuable asset to our team.” Angie narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want to know about Heather’s death? Do you think Javier could have anything to do with it?”
“Now, see, that’s why you have the reputation you do. You’re direct and don’t worry about anyone’s feelings.” He held up a hand as Angie started to respond. “Don’t take that as a negative. It makes you good at this. To answer your question, no, I don’t think Javier could have done this. But unfortunately, there’s the matter of the missing knife.”
“What missing knife?” Angie leaned forward, lowering her voice.
The smile widened. “Oh, so the sheriff doesn’t share everything with you. I wondered.”
“He doesn’t share anything. What missing knife?”
In answer, Ander pulled out his phone. He scrolled through some pictures and then handed the phone to Angie. “That is rumored to be the knife of my great-grandfather, the first Basque sheepherder in the Treasure Valley. He is said to have had it made in France and only used it during Festival to prepare the meat for the meal. Of course, now we don’t use a ceremonial knife in our kitchens. We are bound by health department standards. My great-grandfather would have used that knife for everything, including killing rattlesnakes that got near the sheep.”
Angie stared at the stained blade and ivory shaft. A delicate carving of a house was at the bottom of the knife. “When did it go missing?”
“Now, that I’m not sure of. I store the knife in my home, waiting for Festival time, and then display it as part of a collection in the community center. When I went to get it on Saturday, it was gone.”
“And Sheriff Brown thinks it’s the murder weapon?” Angie handed him back his phone.
Anders put it away in his coat pocket and sipped more wine. “That’s what he’s telling me. But I don’t know how he found out the knife was missing.”
“Sounds like someone is feeding him information.” Angie looked up into Ander’s calculating gaze. “Wait, you thought it was me? I didn’t even know about the knife.”
“I wasn’t sure how much of our culture Estebe had shared with you. He can be very prideful of our culture and traditions.” Ander shook his head. “But I see you are different than what I thought you might be. You are strong and a good friend to our Estebe. I hope you will become my friend as well.”
He picked up his fork and began eating. Angie knew she’d been dismissed. She stood and touched the table. “Enjoy your meal.”
Then she hurried back to the kitchen, ignoring Felicia as she passed into the kitchen. She stepped up to the expediting station next to Estebe and took a ticket off the machine. “Where are we?”
Estebe stepped aside and updated her on the tickets. For the rest of the night, the kitchen team worked on completing service. At the end of the night, Estebe waited for everyone to leave and then walked over to Angie with a beer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “Which one?”
Angie grabbed the water and used a towel to wipe the sweat off her brow. She cracked the bottle open, then drank half of it while Estebe replaced the beer and got his own water. He sat down across from her, studying her face. “You look concerned. Is the kitchen staff not living up to your expectations? I could do a training and try to make them faster.”
“No.” She shook her head at his devastated look. “It’s not the kitchen team. We’re doing awesome. I’m just tired. Besides, I should be asking how you are. You have had quite a week.”
“Javier has made his family’s life hard. I am trying to help out. That’s all.” He folded his hands on the table in front of her. “Iris told me you were talking to Papa Diaz. Can you tell me what he wanted?”
“Nothing really. He’s under the impression that I’m investigating Heather’s murder with the full force and confidence of the police department behind me.” She laughed. “I think he was a little disappointed to find out I’m only a chef.”
