by Lynn Cahoon
Angie glanced at Felicia, who nodded. She’d entertain Talla while Angie talked to Miquel. She thought her friend was getting the better end of the deal. When they got outside, Miquel took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and offered her one.
“I don’t smoke. And I don’t have time for chitchat. What do you need, Miquel?” She stood while he took a seat on one of the benches they kept just outside the door for overflow guests.
“I want you to call off your sheriff. I didn’t kill Nubbins or poison that guy. Sure, I want to win the competition, but my food’s good enough to win. I don’t have to eliminate the competition.” He lit his cigarette, then glanced inside the window. “Talla hates it when I smoke.”
“I don’t control what the sheriff does. Why do you think I can keep him from looking your way for this?”
“Everyone knows you’re the mystery chef. You helped your girl out of that mess a few months ago. From what I heard, she was getting ready to be fitted for an orange jumpsuit until you found the real killer.” He studied his cigarette, taking a drag. “I’ve been a little stressed, and having someone come and interrogate me at work doesn’t look good.”
“Someone killed Nubbins.” Angie studied him. He looked worn out. Not at all like the cocky jerk who’d messed with them at the grocery store.
“If I was investigating, I’d look at that Tara chick. You know she’s been in jail before for her anger issues. And rumor has it, her business isn’t doing the best.”
That was the second time she’d heard that rumor. Was it true? Or was someone just trying to move the attention away from themselves? “I don’t know if I can trust what you’re telling me. From what I’ve heard, you have a history of being dishonest.” She glanced down toward the Red Eye, where the music poured out onto the street every time someone opened the door.
He sighed. “You talked to Barb. Yeah, I skimmed. I was in a bad spot and needed rent money. I bet she didn’t tell you that I gave it back a few years later.” He glanced at the cigarette, considering another drag, then crushed it under his feet. “I’m not perfect. But I’m trying now. I’m trying for Talla.”
He stood up, picked up what was left of the cigarette, and went back inside.
Angie leaned against the brick near the entrance. Was Miquel telling the truth? Or just his version of it? She decided tomorrow she’d go in and talk to Tara one more time. Maybe there was something there. Something she hadn’t wanted to see when they’d gone to dinner at her place.
She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to calm the questions running through her mind.
“Excuse me, but do you cook here?” A man’s voice broke through her thoughts.
Putting a smile on her face so she’d be polite to the potential customer, she opened her eyes. A tall man with red hair stood in front of her. He wore jeans and an older T-shirt with the VA Is for Lovers slogan on the front. He was probably freaking out about the possibility of a dress code at the County Seat.
“I do work here. In fact, it’s my restaurant. Are you coming in for a meal? We’re a farm-to-table restaurant, so all of our products are locally sourced.” Felicia was so much better at the customer service and marketing part. All she wanted to talk about was the food. “We have an amazing menu with late-summer produce right now.”
“Good to know. Did you know that ninety percent of restaurants close in the first five years?” He glanced in the window. “You’ve got a nice setup here. You must have a huge loan on this place.”
Totally inappropriate comment. This was why she didn’t like talking to customers. “The business does well. We’re early in developing a clientele, but I’m positive it will be a success. Did you have a reservation?”
He grinned, one tooth missing from the front, making the grin look a little lopsided. “I tried, but couldn’t get in. I’m only in town for a few weeks. Work keeps me busy.”
Alarms went off in her head. She glanced at the door. Would anyone hear her if she screamed? She moved toward the door. “We always have open seating at the bar if you’d like to eat.”
“Not tonight. I’m just out for a stroll. It was nice to meet you.” And with that, he turned and crossed the street to go into the small city park.
Angie watched as he disappeared into the trees, wondering what the guy really wanted. She started to go inside, but then stopped and turned back. She’d seen the guy before, hadn’t she? Most of her time was spent at the restaurant or at home. Or walking Dom. But it hadn’t been any of those places.
The fair—she’d bumped into him at the fair. At the contest. He was obviously interested in the restaurant business. She shook off the unease she’d felt. It was probably because she’d seen him at Restaurant Wars.
The strains of one of her favorite songs came through the wooden door of Barb’s place, and she hummed along as she made her way back into the restaurant and her kitchen. All she could do was handle her own emotions. But she had to admit, having others think she was some sort of investigator extraordinaire was pretty great too.
When dinner service was over, Felicia came to the door. “Sheriff Brown is here.”
“Great, now what?” Images of the man she’d talked to earlier filled Angie’s head. She started taking off her chef coat.
Felicia held up a hand, stopping her. “Actually, he’s here to pick up Bleak.”
The girl’s face turned bright red. “I told him I could walk. It’s only a few blocks to their house.”
“He’s overprotective. Take advantage of it. Your feet are probably going to hurt later anyway.” Angie waved the girl off. “Go ahead, we can finish up here. See you tomorrow.”
“Definitely.” Bleak actually smiled as she put her apron in the dirty clothes hamper and grabbed her backpack. “This was fun.”
“Girl, you are on crack if you think working is fun,” Matt teased her as she left. She ignored the comment and went through the door with Felicia.
“Hope, come over here a minute.” Angie moved to sit at the chef’s table and go over her notes about the service and the menu items.
Hope pulled a chair back and sat. “If this is about my vacation, I can see if my mom will fly me back earlier if you need me to work.”
“Are you crazy? Take the week. You’re going to have a busy fall semester coming up. And you know we always pick up business as soon as school starts.” Angie leaned back in her chair and opened the bottle of water she’d pulled out of the fridge. “I wanted to talk to you about Bleak. How did she do tonight?”
“Wow. She was great. She really caught on fast, and for a bit, I did some late prep work for Nancy and she ran the station all by herself.” Hope smiled. “I think she’ll be a great addition.”
“If you wouldn’t mind, find out when she last went to school. I’d rather she be going to school than working at her age.”
Hope blushed. “She told me she wasn’t eighteen yet, but that it was a secret. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“I’m not looking for you to betray a confidence, just maybe lead the conversation back to how important graduating from school is. And maybe how much you love your program. Maybe we have a future chef on our hands.” Angie watched as Hope took in the information.
“I can do that. Maybe we can do a field trip and she can come with me to school one day. That would get her focused. And maybe admit she needs help. I could see she was embarrassed by Sheriff Brown coming to get her. Like she was weak. She’s not weak.”
“We all know that. But she is a kid. And sometimes kids need looked after, even if they don’t think they do.” Angie tried again. “We all have Bleak’s best interest at heart. She doesn’t have to be alone. She looks up to you. You need to help lead her down the right path.”
Hope played with a fork that had been left on the table. “I know, but sometimes being responsible is hard.”
Angie nodd
ed. “You got that right.”
Angie sat at the chef’s table long after most of the kitchen staff had cleaned up and left. Thinking about what might have happened to her when her folks had died if Nona hadn’t been around. Or worse, hadn’t wanted her. Bleak needed a brighter future. And she needed to reclaim her real name. Bleak wasn’t her destiny anymore. Angie would make sure of that.
Estebe sat down next to her. “The ovens are off, the stove tops clean, and the food put away. All of your customers have gone home. When are you leaving?”
“Soon.” She sipped on the coffee she’d poured into her travel mug. “Sometimes it’s a hard world out there.”
“Sometimes. But that’s when we need to pull family closer. And trust that you don’t have to hold the entire world up on your own shoulders.” He took a sip of his water. “Bleak is a sweet girl once you get past the gruff exterior. I take it her family isn’t in a hurry to come claim the missing member?”
“According to Sheriff Brown, they basically washed their hands of her. Who does that?” Tears stung Angie’s eyes. She’d leave it to the sheriff to tell the girl that she wasn’t going home but instead was on her own. “She’s sixteen. She should be doing algebra and going to football games, not working to keep a roof over her head.”
“The sheriff is charging her rent?” Estebe looked confused.
Angie barked out a laugh. “No, sorry, it was a bad analogy. He’s trying to figure out a way to get her back into school without her bolting again. If she keeps going north, she’ll wind up in Canada taking care of the moose.”
“He is a caring man. He will figure out a way. And until then, we will take care of her the best we can.” Estebe stood, draining his water bottle. “Go home, Angie Turner. Your dog is going to be worried.”
Of course, he was right. She rose as well. Nothing got solved by worrying. Another one of Nona’s favorite sayings. But it didn’t stop Angie from trying to save the world. One worry at a time.
Chapter 14
Angie spent the morning looking at descriptions of different poisons and their sources. She could ask Allen what toxin was found in Nubbins’s autopsy, but she hesitated to pick up the phone. She didn’t want him to think she was calling about Bleak. To ask about how yesterday went. And she definitely didn’t want him asking her to get her back to school. Angie wasn’t good with kids. Even when she’d been one herself. She didn’t understand their thought processes. She’d always been rational, even methodical, in her thinking. Which was probably why cooking appealed to her so much. If she mixed this ingredient and that, she got something she knew. It never changed, unless she changed it herself.
She glanced at the clock. She’d made an appointment to meet up with Tara for coffee at ten. She had to be at the County Seat by two to work with Estebe on Friday’s planning session, and according to the computer, it would take her over an hour to get to the coffee place. She shut down the laptop and moved it closer to the middle of the table. Dom might not want to eat the metal or plastic, but if it was within reach, he’d probably try.
She packed her tote, aware of his eyes on her back. “Sorry, dude, it’s a workday. We’ll go walking on Sunday as long as it doesn’t rain.” It rarely rained in Idaho in August, so she was pretty sure she’d be able to keep her promise.
On her way to Boise, she turned up the music and was getting her driver’s seat dance on when her phone rang. She punched a button for the car system to pick up the call. “Hey, Ian, what’s going on?”
“We’re looking for Bleak. Is she with you?”
Crap. Someone must have pushed the school button. Or the family one. With that girl, there were so many hot buttons it could have been anything. “No. I haven’t seen her since your uncle came to get her last night. When did she disappear?”
“Maggie thinks early this morning. She heard a door shut, but thought it was Allen leaving for work. He was working in his office at the back of the house.” He sighed. “Maggie’s a wreck. She really likes the kid.”
“Did she take her stuff?” She heard Ian ask the question and waited.
He came back on the line. “Apparently not. She took her backpack and the books Felicia had left her. But a lot of her clothes are still in her room.”
“Then maybe she just went out for a walk.” Angie didn’t want to downplay the event, but maybe the girl just needed some space. “It must be hard going from being on your own to living with the town sheriff and his wife.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Just to be safe, I’m going to drive around River Vista and see if I can see her. If you hear from her, call me, okay?”
“I will.” She hung up the phone and, using voice command, dialed Hope. She got her voice mail. “Hey, Hope, this is Angie. We’re looking for Bleak. If you’ve seen her, call me and let me know she’s all right, okay? She has a lot of people worried about her.”
She hung up, and the music came back on. But this time, she didn’t feel like a dance party. She touched the crystal that hung in her car, the one that Nona had hung in her own car for as long as Angie could remember. “Be safe. Be smart. Come home.”
She considered canceling her coffee date with Tara, but thought it might be better to keep busy. Bleak would show up sooner or later. Angie was almost 99 percent sure she was talking to Hope. Their connection had been strong last night, and the girl needed support from someone she could trust.
She pulled into the parking lot of the library. It had been opened in a converted house that now held room after room of comfortable seating and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It was the perfect place to settle in with coffee and a bakery treat, either with friends or alone. Today she’d be talking to someone who might just be a killer. But at least the coffee would be good.
Tara was already in the shop when Angie walked inside. She stood at the counter, laughing with the barista, while he made her something foamy with whipped cream on the top.
“Hey, Angie.” Chris, the barista, smiled. “The usual?”
“Works for me. Tara, thanks for meeting me halfway.” She waited for Chris to finish and paid him for the overpriced mocha that she loved. “Let’s go sit in the living room. It’s so comfortable.”
“I love this little shop, but I never have a good reason to drive all the way out here. Maybe we should make this a monthly excuse.” Tara sat on the overstuffed couch while Angie chose a small upholstered chair nearby.
“Sounds great.” But Angie wondered if Tara would really want to talk again after she asked her some rather pointed questions. “How’s the restaurant?”
“You mean between now and Monday?” Tara sipped her coffee, watching Angie carefully. “Tell me you’re not here because that sheriff thinks I’m a killer.”
“Sheriff Brown didn’t send me to talk to you. But someone else did. They said that your business is in trouble.” Angie wiped her lip after taking a drink of the mocha. She didn’t want a foam mustache to upstage the message she was trying to send. “So, how’s business?”
“If it’s any of your business, we’ve run into a little trouble making ends meet. One of our regular customers for the catering part of the business went into bankruptcy, after holding two large events at our place. It’s not fair, but what can you do?” Tara set her coffee down on the table. “Who told you? If it was that weasel Miquel, I’m going to shake him silly.”
“I’m not at liberty to say, but if it’s all innocent, why not just tell whoever interviewed you about Chef Nubbins’s death?”
“And let the world know we’re hanging on by a thread? People don’t make reservations for large events in the future if they don’t think you’re going to be in business. I’ve got three wedding accounts considering using us for their reception. If we get the contract, it will more than cover what we lost.” She leaned back. “Did you disclose all your financial records when they interviewed you? It didn’t seem that important. Do
I want to win the contest? Heck, yeah, but I have plans so if we don’t, we’ll still be all right. Even if I have to take a second job to keep the place afloat.”
“You’re determined.” Angie nodded. “I get it. Believe me, we’ve had our own challenges in running the County Seat. This is a small town. Things get mixed up. Things get jacked around and misinterpreted.”
Tara stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Yeah, but someone who claims to want to be a friend doesn’t let rumors determine what they think of someone.”
“Tara, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Angie stood as well, hoping she could calm the woman down long enough for them to finish their coffee. What had Nona called it? Breaking bread? They needed some happy time to cover over the anger Tara felt at Angie’s questioning.
“Well, we’re long past that.” Tara narrowed her eyes. “I can see you’re just like all the others. All you want is to win.”
Angie watched as the woman spun on her heel and left the room. A few minutes later, Chris came into the small room with a tray, picking up Tara’s cup.
“Don’t feel bad. Everyone’s talking about her bankruptcy and her affair with Nubbins.” He leaned against the doorway. “Apparently his wife found out before she could talk him into bailing her out. She has a history of using sugar daddies for her support.”
Angie stared at him in shock. “How did you find all this out?”
He laughed. “One, I listen when people come here. The walls aren’t very thick. Tara and Nubbins came in once a week, every week. Two, my friend at the motel by the freeway told me the couple had a standing reservation for Thursdays at three. And three, my wife works with Mrs. Nubbins. So we got both sides of the story. Like you said, it’s a small town.”
The bell on the door rang. He glanced back toward the coffee shop. “I’ll be right there,” he called. Then he pointed to Angie’s cup. “Want a free refill? You kind of got beat up just now, and chocolate makes everything better.”
