by Lynn Cahoon
“Actually, I buy my ingredients in a lot of different ways.” She sighed and turned back toward Mrs. Eisenhower. She would try one more time to try to convince her she didn’t steal her recipe. Angie wasn’t hoping for much. She knew they’d never be best friends, but she didn’t want to have to be actively avoiding the woman for the rest of her life. “Look, about the recipe—”
Mrs. Eisenhower turned red and interrupted her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I’d actually gotten that recipe from your grandmother. When Missy told me that you were making dishes from the women’s auxiliary church cookbook and calling them your own. I got mad.”
“Missy Stockwell told you I was stealing recipes?” Angie couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know what she’d done to make her a mortal enemy, but it had to stop. “I have used several of my Nona’s recipes at the County Seat. Of course, my staff and I play with them a bit to get them perfect, but I don’t steal anyone’s recipe.”
“I realize that. I went home and talked to my husband, and he reminded me that Margaret gave me that recipe. He said I should have called you that night, but I didn’t know what to say. And here you are, diving right in with an apology that I should have been giving rather than you.” Mrs. Eisenhower patted her arm. “From now on, I’ve given up listening to gossip. You’re a very sweet girl and I know you aren’t trying to break Ian’s heart. At least not on purpose.”
Angie’s lips twitched, but she was able to keep the grin away. “Ian and I are fine.”
“I saw you at church with him. You two make an adorable couple.” Mrs. Eisenhower continued to chat until she caught Angie glancing at her watch. “Oh, my, first I insult you and now I’m keeping you from work. Again, please accept my apology. I’m so glad we got this worked out.”
Angie watched as she made her way past her and turned toward produce. The woman was a kook, but at least she wasn’t running around town calling Angie a thief. She grabbed a bag of all-purpose flour, the spices she needed, and a smaller bag of cake flour, then threw ten pounds of sugar into her cart. At least the sugar was local. Nampa had a sugar beet factory where they extracted the white glistening powder from the unsightly roots.
She quickly finished shopping, threw the bags in her backseat, then put on her seat belt and got ready to head to the restaurant. All she had to do was get out of the parking lot without anyone stopping her to chat. She glanced in her rearview mirror. She wasn’t going to be that lucky.
Pastor Tom was coming up alongside her SUV, his handsome face made even cuter with the wide grin he wore. “Angie Turner.” He leaned on the windowsill of her vehicle. Now she regretted rolling down the window as soon as she got into the car.
“Pastor Tom. So nice to see you.” Angie hoped little white lies didn’t count in the Big Guy’s book.
“I don’t want to keep you since you probably have perishables in your grocery bags, but I wanted to tell you how nice it was to see you in the pews this last Sunday. I remember when your grandmother used to bring you into services. You were always such an adorable child with your black hair and piercing eyes.” He paused for a moment, apparently thinking about what he was going to say next. Angie could see it in his eyes when he decided to take a chance. “You and Ian make such a lovely couple.”
“Thanks. The sermon was interesting.” Angie couldn’t remember much of it since she’d been thinking about how to handle the Katherine thing.
“I don’t think I’ve seen Ian with a woman friend since he moved here. I’m sure Allen and his wife are excited to have you as part of the family.”
“Whoa, we’re dating, not engaged.” Angie didn’t go into the whole story about how Sheriff Brown didn’t like her dating his precious Ian in the first place. “And I haven’t met Mrs. Brown yet. I’m sure Ian will introduce me as soon as he and I feel it’s time.”
“Look at me, jumping to conclusions. It’s just when young adults reach a certain age and meet someone they’re compatible with, wedding bells tend to follow.”
Angie couldn’t stop the comment. “Let me get this straight. You think my biological clock is ticking and I need a husband? Pastor Tom, I don’t mean to insult you, but stay out of my business. I’m perfectly happy with my life. And I just opened a restaurant. No man, even if he is a saint who teaches Sunday school, needs to be tied down with someone who works too many hours and is always thinking about ways to make food better.”
He quickly stepped back away from the SUV and almost hit the truck parked next to her. “Now I’ve offended you. I’m dreadfully sorry.”
“No, you haven’t offended me. I just wish people would stop trying to plan my life.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little worn out today.”
“Well, I won’t keep you, then. Tell Ian I said hello, and I’ll be sure to get over to your restaurant sooner rather than later.” He waved and stepped out between the cars.
Angie watched him as he went into the store, greeting people as they met, slapping one man on the back, bending down to talk to a little child. The man was personable. Nice, even. And she’d just jumped down his throat because he assumed she and Ian were more of a thing than she thought they were. She needed to get a grip. Maybe more coffee would help.
At the restaurant, she had a couple of hours before the kitchen crew would come in to test out next month’s recipes. She would have liked to have Estebe there, but with the festival starting tomorrow, she knew he couldn’t be spared. They’d just have to plow through without him. As she wandered through the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of coffee, then took it and the new recipes she wanted to play with to the table with a notebook.
That was where Felicia found her an hour later.
“Hey, girl, I didn’t realize you’d showed yet.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat next to her. “Why the doom-and-gloom face? Don’t you like the menu?”
Angie pushed the notebook toward her. On it, she’d written who killed Heather on the top, and only one name hadn’t been crossed off: Javier. “I’m trying to get this out of my head so I’m not a walking time bomb waiting to go off on people. I just yelled at the Methodist pastor a few hours ago because he insinuated that Ian and I might have a future. I’m sure he thinks I’m a looney.”
Felicia glanced at the paper, then back up at Angie. “You know this isn’t your problem. Sheriff Brown can handle it.”
“Sheriff Brown hates me too. Well, I guess not anymore. He came to apologize and I gave him donuts.” Angie rubbed her hands over her face. “He’s just as stumped as I am, and he has all that fancy equipment and access to real reports and stuff.”
“Angie, maybe we should call off today.” Felicia put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Maybe you just need to go home and relax.”
“And watch Mrs. Potter glare at me? Did I mention she was ticked at me too? What am I doing to people? You’d think I was a living example of how to annoy friends and turn off people.” Now Angie laid her head on the table. “You should get away from me before I say something stupid to you.”
When Felicia didn’t respond, Angie lifted her head and stared at her. Felicia had her arms crossed and was watching her. “What?”
“Are you done with your pity party?” Felicia waited a beat for Angie to nod. “Okay, so you might have spoken harshly to the pastor. I bet he gets more of that during his spiritual counseling of his flock on a daily basis.”
This time it was Angie’s turn to stay quiet.
Felicia nodded. “Okay, so we’re in agreement. I’ll go on. The sheriff is concerned about his nephew and your relationship. That’s normal. He’s his only parental figure, from what I can uncover. He doesn’t hate you.”
“I guess maybe he’s getting some of the same comments from people like Pastor Tom as I am.” Angie’s lips twitched in a small smile. “I can’t blame him for being a little testy. I am.”
“Exactly.” Felicia
sighed. “Mrs. Potter is just reacting to the fact that sometimes her life isn’t her own. That sometimes other people make decisions for you that are in your best interest. You care for her. You didn’t want to see her hurt.”
“At least not until we actually knew something was wrong. I just felt like I was in the wrong with that one. I wanted to tell her.” Angie sat up straighter and sipped her coffee. “You’re right. I was just having a pity party.”
“Sometimes people do things for other people that aren’t right, but their hearts are in the right place.” Felicia smiled. “Usually it’s because love is in the mix.”
Angie stared at the piece of paper. Now that she wasn’t thinking with her logic brain but with her heart, maybe there were a few other names that needed to be on the list. She scribbled a few names, then slapped the notebook closed.
“No more thinking about that for a while. Maybe it will be like a set of lost keys. If I stop thinking about it, the answer will come.”
Felicia sipped her coffee. “Or maybe you’ll forget about the whole thing and just deal with those recipes in front of you?”
Chapter 20
The kitchen session hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped. Felicia had either forgotten Angie’s direction or had gone against the advice and hired a temporary chef to help out in Estebe’s absence. The guy, Ken, was a real jerk. He kept barking orders at Matt and Nancy, and he barely even acknowledged Hope. The only one he was even somewhat nice to was Angie, and that was only because she was the head chef. Apparently, Ken knew the chain of command and assumed he was above everyone but Angie in the kitchen. When he’d declined to participate in the family meal after his shift was over, Angie drew in a breath of relief.
Felicia stood by her as Hope and the others brought in the food. “You okay? You seem stressed.”
“Any chance we can get a different temp for Friday and Saturday? I don’t think Ken meets our requirements.”
Felicia frowned. “The service said he’d been head chef at several restaurants around the state and had just moved here.”
“He’s an ass.” Angie didn’t use the term often, but it described this guy to a T. “I’d rather be one man down than put the team through two services with that guy. Besides, like I said before, all I need is a dishwasher. Hope will step in to help and everyone else will move up a slot.”
“I get it.” She straightened Angie’s chef collar. “I’ll call the service.”
When they sat down at the table, Angie could see the tension on her team’s face. She grinned. “Well, we lived through that.”
“Angie, I know you’re the head chef, but that guy, he’s a tool.” Matt took a serving, then passed around the platter of chicken with wild mushroom marsala to the server sitting next to him. “I’m just warning you, I might have to deck him this weekend. I’m laying bets on Friday about ten minutes into service.”
“I don’t think you’ll last ten minutes.” Nancy started the sweet potato hash around as well.
Hope took a sip of water. “I know you’re not supposed to judge others, but wow. He isn’t a very nice person.”
“Felicia is working on getting us a replacement dishwasher. And Ken won’t be back on Friday.” Angie took the plate of hash and dished some on her plate. “Let’s talk about everyone’s month. What’s been going on since we last had one of these?”
One of the servers shot up her hand. It was the left hand, and Angie could see the sparkling diamond from the other end of the table. She pretended not to see her hand. “No one has anything?”
That got a chuckle from the group.
Reba, the server, shook her head. “You guys are bad.” She stood, held out her hand, and announced, “I said yes.”
Cheers and toasts flew around the table, and Angie caught Felicia’s gaze. This was the team they always dreamed of having. A group that worked together more like family than just coworkers. Who celebrated the ups and helped during the down times.
The idea of family and what someone would do for another family member nagged at her. By the time the family meal was over and she was helping Hope with the dishes, Angie had a raging headache.
“You look awful.” Hope handed her a dish she’d just sprayed off for Angie to put into the rack. “Why don’t you go home? I can finish up here and Felicia can lock up after me.”
Felicia, who’d just brought in the last of the glasses from the meal, nodded. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground this last couple of weeks. I can’t be missing both our head chef and the sous chef this weekend. Go home. You and Dom need some movie time on the couch. I’m sure he’s been nervous having someone else in the house all week.”
Angie wiped her hands on a towel and stepped away from the dish station. “I’m going. Besides, Estebe invited me to the opening ceremonies for the festival tomorrow, and I’d like to at least be able to make an appearance. If this headache doesn’t go away, I’ll be locking myself in a dark room for a couple of days.”
“You’re sure about not having Ken back?” Felicia studied her friend. “Two trained hands in the kitchen are better than none.”
“Actually, no. He’s such a distraction to the team it’s like we don’t have his hands.” Angie picked up her tote. “If the service doesn’t have anyone else, we’ll make do. Having someone work against the team makes everyone’s game off.”
Hope shoved a tray of dishes into the washer and set it to run. “I don’t like that guy one bit. I felt like he was judging me and I’d failed before I even opened my mouth.”
“It’s okay to not like someone.” Angie gave her youngest team member a smile. “I think our subconscious lets us know who we can trust and who we should let into our lives.”
“Well said. Now go home.” Felicia gave her a little push toward the door. “Do you need to take food with you so you don’t have to cook?”
Angie’s stomach rolled at the idea of food. “No, if I get hungry, I’ve got soup in the freezer. See you Friday.”
Felicia watched her walk toward the door. “You call and cancel with Estebe if you’re still feeling bad tomorrow. And maybe get into a doctor.”
Angie just waved away the suggestion and crossed the parking lot to her car. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone standing in the alleyway, watching her. But when she turned her head, there was no one there.
“Leave me alone, Heather. I don’t know what happened to you.” Angie muttered as she started up the car. She needed sleep and home. And to not think about Heather or Javier or Mrs. Potter for a while. She didn’t even turn on the stereo as she drove home.
* * * *
When she woke on Thursday, her headache was gone. The day was beautiful, and the festival would have amazing weather and probably crazy crowds. Estebe had warned her to be early if she wanted to park anywhere close to the street festival, so she finished up her chores and headed into Boise around ten.
Her phone rang as soon as she was in the car.
“Good morning, are you feeling better?” Felicia’s cheery voice echoed in the cab.
Angie turned down the volume. “Much. I don’t know what was going on with me yesterday, but I was in a funk.”
“Maybe you were being attacked by negative energy. I met this psychic at a party last week who has a place in Boise. We should totally go and get your chi cleaned.”
“Even if I knew what that was, I wouldn’t do it. One, I have no time. And two, I don’t believe in the supernatural.” Angie shuddered a bit as she thought about the shadow in the alleyway yesterday. She’d told it to leave her alone and it had. “There’s enough evil in the world that I can see and understand. I don’t have to go all underworld to be scared.”
“You really need to read more paranormal. It will open up your mind to the other side.”
Angie shook her head. Her friend was persistent. “You know that
’s all fiction, right? Anyway, I’m fine, and thanks for checking in with me.”
“I actually called to see if you’d completed the orders for this weekend. I know you turned that part over to Estebe, so I’m just checking.”
Angie groaned. Her conversation with Mrs. Eisenhower about supply orders yesterday should have alerted her to the fact she needed to order, but no, she’d been so worked up about rumors she’d forgotten all about it. “No, I didn’t. Can you review the menu and the pantries and see what we need to order? I’ll stop by the restaurant on my way back from Boise and get it called in.”
“I can do it if you review what I send. I’ll let them know there may be additions when you come in. That way we won’t miss the suggested noon deadline.” Felicia shuffled some papers. “Their barn manager called as she was doing the weekly order processing over at Pamplona Farms and noticed we didn’t have an order in. She’s pretty on top of things. I told her it was coming.”
“I can’t believe they’re still functioning without Javier.”
Felicia laughed. “From what I’ve seen, I don’t think the guy dealt with the actual business very much. This woman seemed to want to continue our relationship, even if we’d just started working with them. I think Javier must have been just the face of Pamplona Farms.”
“A missing face right now. Have you heard anything? Has he reached out to this manager at all?”
“According to her, she hasn’t heard from him for days. And she’s worried. She didn’t come out and say he was a bad manager, but she did say that he wouldn’t have left the business just hanging. He apparently is pretty attached to the place.”
“Well, let’s hope someone finds him soon. It’s got to be wearing on Estebe too.” She paused. “Do you want anything from the festival?”
“Bring me a couple of cinnamon churros. I love those things.”
As she made her way into Boise, Angie thought about Javier and Heather, Stephen and Kendra, Estebe, and the rest of the family. Could this be all about family? Stephen had been her choice of killer for a while until she found out he and Kendra were out of town that weekend. Brothers sometimes killed each other—it had happened in the Bible even. But it wasn’t Javier who was killed. It was a woman he hadn’t even really cared about.
