by Lynn Cahoon
Ian held up his watch. “I just set a timer.”
Angie looked at Felicia. “We should be back, what, around five or six? We’ll eat lunch while we’re out and maybe pick up dinner for the two of you.”
“We’re going to the Browns’ for dinner. Maggie’s excited to meet Bleak.” He smiled at the girl, but she turned her head.
Angie knew how she felt. She hadn’t wanted to go over to the Allen house for dinner the first time Ian had taken her, either. “Well then, we’ll make sure we’re back no later than five thirty.”
“Sounds good.” Ian went back around the desk and turned on his computer. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I’ll take your credit card, if you don’t mind.” Angie held out her hand.
“No way. I might not see any of you again until they shut down the credit line.” He pulled five one-hundred-dollar bills from his wallet. “This should cover what she needs.”
“I’ll bring you back the change.” Angie’s hands clamped on the money and she started to walk away.
Ian laughed. “You’d better. I have your dog as ransom.”
Angie didn’t think Dom would even try a breakout to get home. And if he did, it might take him months to find his way home. He’d have to meet all the people along the way, which would take more time.
“I don’t need that much stuff,” Bleak protested again.
Angie pointed to the door. “Then there’ll be a lot of change to give back. My SUV is out in the parking lot at the end of the alley behind the County Seat.”
When everyone was out of the office except Ian and Angie, he called after her, “Good luck.”
She had a feeling she was going to need it.
* * * *
Bleak was quiet during the trip to Boise. Angie asked her three times if she was done with the application, but she kept saying one more minute. Finally, she passed it forward and Felicia stuck it into her tote. “Thanks, I’ll read it later. So, what’s your favorite band?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, let’s start with something a little easier. Favorite book you read. Or last book you read, that would be even easier.” Felicia turned in the seat to watch Bleak, who had her face turned toward the window, watching the world go by.
“For school or for fun?” Bleak answered, not turning her head.
“For fun. The books they make you read in school aren’t half as fun as what I read now,” Felicia said.
Angie watched the interaction with interest. Felicia was good at getting information, but she hadn’t watched her friend in action for a while.
“You wouldn’t know it,” Bleak muttered.
“Oh, I like a challenge, especially around books. Angie just reads cookbooks mostly. And some local women’s fiction.” Felicia pressed, “So, what was it?”
“Paranormal, I guess. It was about magicians. I found it at one of the shelters. It was a trilogy, but the shelter didn’t have the other two books. And then there was this television show. I didn’t get to see all of the season, but it was really, really good.” Animation flowed through her voice for the first time since Angie had been introduced.
“Did you read all three books?” Felicia asked casually.
Bleak turned her head. “No, I couldn’t afford to buy them. I went to the library but they kicked me out once they realized I was there too much. They thought I was a runaway and kept trying to get me to talk to their social worker. When I refused, they kicked me out. I thought libraries were supposed to be free.”
“Yeah, me too.” Felicia leaned back and changed the subject. “So, you like books about magic. What about werewolves or vampires?”
Bleak shrugged. “Sometimes. But there’s this other book one of the kids was talking about. Something about vamps and witches and how they fall in love. I’d love to read that.”
“Twilight?” Angie guessed and both Felicia and Bleak laughed. “What?”
“Not Twilight. That’s too old. I probably won’t find it again, since the guy who recommended it is dead.” Now she turned back to the window.
Felicia was on her phone doing something, and Angie felt like a chauffeur, just driving from one place to the next one. At least she was almost at the doctor’s office. She pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. She grabbed her tote with her notebook and looked at Felicia. “You going in with us?”
“No, I need to finish this. Give me ten minutes. I’ve already told the office what we need.” She looked up at Bleak. “Unless you need me in the room with the doctor?”
“What do you think I am, twelve?”
Angie and Felicia watched her walk to the office door and swing it open, disappearing inside.
“I was going to say fifteen, but I don’t think she wanted an actual answer to that question.” Angie pulled her bag farther up on her shoulder. She handed Felicia the keys. “Just don’t forget to lock it. I don’t want any more drama for the day. I’ll go back to the fair to get that type of abuse.”
She went into the office, where someone had already called Bleak’s name, so she was going into the back when Angie walked up to the counter. “Do you need me to fill out any paperwork for Bleak?” She pointed to the disappearing doctor and girl.
The woman glanced through the computer file, then shook her head. “Your partner, Felicia, faxed us everything. We’re good to go.”
Angie returned to the waiting area and pulled out her notebook to go through her to-do list for the next week, as well as add in new items. Like finalizing the menu for the brunch class, adding in Felicia’s new recipe. She was thinking about the contest and the creepy things that had gone on so far, making notes and action steps to figure out who was messing with the valley’s chefs, when Felicia came in from the car.
She dropped the keys into Angie’s lap. “Sorry I’m late. Everything okay?”
“You took care of everything this morning when you made the appointment apparently.” Angie dropped the keys into her purse. “You really think the guy who’s running the Black Angus is kind of sketchy?”
Felicia nodded. “He just felt wrong. Maybe I was just projecting, but it’s worth mentioning to Sheriff Brown. He should be interviewing everyone and anyone attached to the contest anyway. But maybe we could give him a heads-up on this guy.”
“I still think Miquel needs a second look.” Angie tapped her pen on the pad. “Even Barb doesn’t like him, and she likes most everyone.”
“Barb hates everyone.” Felicia laughed, then turned red when several people in the waiting room turned to stare. She dropped her voice. “Anyway, that’s how it appears to me.”
“Well, she has reason to with this Miquel.” Angie glanced at her list. Maybe she could fit it in tomorrow.
“Then let’s go to Bien Viveres for lunch. We told Bleak we’d feed her during this visit to the city. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.” Felicia picked up a gossip magazine. “I knew these two were dating, even when they denied it because they were both still married.”
Angie wasn’t sure she even knew who the two people were. But she grabbed her phone and made reservations for lunch. Then she made a checkmark next to Miquel’s name and wrote down one more thing: Go talk to Sheriff Brown about all that they’d found out. Even though Ian might have already told him, it felt like good karma points to be up-front with the investigation. It did involve her, but more importantly, he seemed to be open to her getting involved this time. That made her pause. Why was he okay with her looking into things?
Before she could puzzle it out, Bleak came out of the hallway, her dark eyes flashing. Angie noticed her choppy haircut and wondered if they had time for one more stop. Bleak thrust the paperwork into Angie’s hands.
“Here. He said the health department would have the lab results next week. But I looked healthy enough to him.” She rolled her
eyes. “Can we go now?”
Angie glanced at the receptionist, who nodded. Apparently, Felicia had dealt with the payment issues as well. She stuffed the papers in her tote and grabbed the keys. “Let’s go shopping.”
By one, Bleak had several pairs of new jeans, T-shirts, dress pants, and work shoes. They’d even gotten Bleak to accept one dress, which Angie felt sure the Browns would appreciate since they would probably drag their new roommate to church with them. Felicia glanced through the lists she’d made. “One more stop after lunch and we’re done. You need some underthings, and we’re going new but cheap on those. And we can get you a couple pairs of cute shorts and tanks for next to nothing there.”
Angie expected the girl to complain, but instead, she asked, “Where are we eating?”
Shopping therapy must work on some people. For Angie, it made her grumpy. “Bien Viveres, it’s an upscale Mexican restaurant near the river.”
“I like Mexican. My mom used to take me to this little hole-in-the-wall. She thought they had the best food. I bet this place is even better.” Bleak was leaning back and reading a paperback she’d picked out at the next-to-last resale shop they’d visited.
Angie and Felicia exchanged glances, not wanting to stop the conversation. Finally, Angie spoke. “I haven’t been there, but I’m hoping it’s good. It’s one of the restaurants that we’re competing against at the fair.”
Bleak’s eyes narrowed. “Ian told me about the Restaurant Wars. So, you’re going as spies?”
Felicia laughed. “Checking out the competition, but not spying.”
“I don’t really see the difference,” Bleak said, returning to her book.
Angie shrugged and made the turn into the parking lot of the restaurant. “Maybe she has a point.”
When they were seated with drinks on the table and their orders in to their waitress. Angie asked the older woman if Miquel was in the kitchen.
Nodding, she grinned. “I’m thinking you want to talk to him? You all must be chefs. We’ve had a lot of the competition for the fair group coming in the last week or so to try out our food. I’ll let him know that you are here.”
Felicia waited for the woman to leave. “Okay, so why didn’t we think about checking out the competition before? Apparently everyone else has.”
Angie sipped her iced tea. Bleak was still reading, seemingly ignoring their conversation. “Did you notice any of them at the County Seat last week?”
“Besides Miquel? No. And I think I would have. Unless they sent other employees in like secret shoppers. No one announced themselves, not like we’re doing.” Felicia crossed her arms. “Somehow I feel so violated.”
“Spies don’t tell the enemy they’re coming. It messes with the information they get. Do you think they’re going to burn our tacos now that they know we’re the ones eating the food?” Bleak glanced at them over the paperback. “Seriously, you all need someone to plan your strategy.”
Angie wasn’t worried about burnt food. She was more concerned about someone adding poison to the food, like what had happened to Brandon Cook. She smiled at Felicia. “Again, she has a point. Maybe she should be our tactical adviser the next time we do a local competition.”
“There’s a food truck event in late December. We could rent a truck and enter.” Felicia pulled out her phone and keyed in some information, searching for something. “Yep, it’s still open for entries. Want to go play?”
Angie wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to the competition she was in on Friday, let alone enter another one. One where they’d have to cook in a rental food truck, if they could even find one. She shook her head. “Let’s talk to the team on Wednesday at staff meeting about the event. If they want to be part of it, we’ll do it.”
“You have staff meetings?” Bleak set down the book after carefully putting in a piece of paper she’d taken out of her tote to mark her place. “Do I have to come?”
“If you’re not in school or working another job,” Angie added the second qualifier quickly so Bleak wouldn’t go ballistic on her again, “you’re expected at all staff meetings. This one, you’ll get to eat a few of the new menu items we’ll be adding to service that night.”
Felicia smiled over at her. “What she’s saying is, don’t eat lunch before you come to work Wednesday. And speaking of, I want you to come for a couple of hours tomorrow. I’ll have Tara come in and train you on busing tables.”
“Two hours to learn that?” She glanced around the room. “Clean the dirty dishes, take them to the dishwasher, come back, rinse, repeat.”
“And I’ll do your paperwork so we can get you on the books and set up for a paycheck.” Felicia reached out to pat the girl’s arm, but then thought better of it and picked up the book. “I don’t think I’ve read this one. I have several from this author up in my apartment. I’ll bring them down on Wednesday if you want them.”
Bleak looked at them like the whole conversation was a setup for an elaborate practical joke. “Whatever.”
“Good afternoon, ladies, I wondered when I’d see you here.” Miquel stood at the front of the table, watching the interplay.
“We were in town shopping and thought we’d stop in.” Angie forced her lips into a smile. Be polite even if you don’t want to had been one of Nona’s favorite sayings. Especially when they were driving home after church. “I hear you already know Felicia. This is our newest staff member, Bleak.”
“Interesting name for such a lovely young woman.” He nodded to Bleak, who rolled her eyes. Chuckling, he lifted his arms. “I am Miquel Montoya, head chef of Bien Viveres.”
“Are you ready for the next event?” Felicia asked, sipping her tea.
He pulled a chair from an empty table next to them and turned it backward, then straddled it and leaned forward until his chin rested on the wooden back. “So ready. It’s been a challenging contest so far. And yet, neither of us has won a round. I’m sure we’re better than that, aren’t we?”
“I don’t know.” Angie watched his face. “It almost seems like bad luck to win. First, Chef Nubbins dies, then Sydney Cook’s husband is taken ill by eating nachos that were left for her.”
“Nachos don’t usually kill people.” He frowned and glanced at the kitchen.
“And yet, one chef is dead. You have nachos on your menu here, right?” Bleak blurted out. Then, when she saw the look on Angie and Felicia’s face, she shrugged. “What? Just asking the obvious.”
Miquel stared at the young girl, then started laughing. “I like this one. She has spunk. If you get tired of working for these women, give me a call. I’ll hire you.”
The waitress came by with their food, and Miquel took the dishes off of the tray and set them on the table. “Enjoy, ladies. Lunch is on the house.”
After he walked away, Angie threw a questioning look at Bleak. “Are you trying to get us killed?”
Chapter 11
Tuesday morning Angie decided to put the competition, the murder, and her new employee who seemed to have a death wish, behind her. Today would be about new recipes. She showered away all the bad mojo she’d felt while they ate lunch at Bien Viveres. If Miquel wasn’t a killer, he was totally a jerk.
After she’d fed the zoo and was finally sitting at the table with her coffee and a warmed-up slice of the breakfast casserole Felicia had sent home with her, she glanced at her phone. Maybe she should call Ian and see what his uncle had told him? “Get behind me, Satan.”
Dom glanced up from his bed, wondering if her words meant something to him, like “walk” or “eat this.” When he decided that no, his master was just talking to herself again, he laid his head back down for his morning nap.
Angie pulled out her notebook and a list of holes in the menu. She’d already decided what she needed to take off this month’s offerings. That was the easy part. The garden and produce supplies told her when it w
as time to move from summer’s bounty to fall’s more rustic flavors. She thought about the light soups they’d had for the season, then an image came to her. Nona’s corn chowder. Corn was still readily available, as were a variety of spicy peppers. With a chunky potato added to it, the chowder would be filling as well as tasty.
She went to her fridge and pulled out some corn on the cob she’d brought home from the storehouse at the restaurant. Then she ran out to the garden to pick several varieties of peppers. Mabel had beat her to the plot and was pulling up an earthworm that seemed to be longer than the hen was tall.
Gathering the peppers, she spied a sweet onion popping out of the soil. With all of these, she went back to the kitchen to start her creating process.
It was ten o’clock when a knock came at the door. Angie had two pots of soups on the stove and was considering putting a pork roast into the pressure cooker so she could play with some sandwiches. Of course, that meant baking bread as well.
She walked over to the door, beating Dom to it, and swung it open. Sheriff Allen Brown stood on her porch, hat in hand. “Come on in. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
He stopped at the doorway. “Whatever you’re cooking, you should make into a room spray. You’d have men drooling at your feet.”
“Well, thank you, I guess. Come on in and I’ll dish you up a bowl. Or two. I have Snow Chicken Chili and Last of the Summer Corn Chowder. I might have to change the name of the chili or wait to put it on the menu, though.” Angie went to the cupboard and got out three bowls. “Are you game to try both?”
“I really shouldn’t, but what the heck?” He came inside and shut the door behind him. “How have you been, big guy?”
Dom wiggled at his feet.
“He’s happy I’m home. I’ve been gone a lot. Have you done any background checks on this Bleak girl who’s got Ian wrapped around her little finger?”
“Now, don’t you be saying stuff like that. My nephew only has one girl he’s sweet on, and I’m talking to her.” Sheriff Brown sat at the table, resting his hat on the chair next to him.
