“Neither daughter has heard from her since Christmas Day, when she told them she was in Atchison, Kansas, at a Benedictine monastery.”
“Kathy Hager is the one. I just know it, but you’re right, I just knew it was Jane Anderson until last night. I’m glad you’re the detective, not me.”
Bonnie headed for the door. “I’ll remind you you said that. I hope I don’t see you until next year,” she said as she left.
Heaven had folded a white napkin around her head as a sweatband. The kitchen was swamped. It was eleven and the last round of guests had been seated. They were turning out mostly starters right now, salads, patés, snails and blini with caviar. Heaven had ordered some lobes of foie gras for the evening and on her station she seared the liver in a dry pan with some kosher salt. Then she put it on a thin slice of toast, topped it with some caramelized onions and some mango chutney that she’d made the day before. She was also doing a wild mushroom stroganoff at her station, sauteing a mixture of wild mushrooms and adding a little lemon juice and sour cream at the last minute, serving it on a thicker piece of toast with a little fresh dill on the top. She had ten pans of those two starters going at the same time. And she was smiling. “I love it when we’re in the weeds but you can see the way out,” she said.
Brian Hoffman, standing next to her, working the pasta station, looked over. “This is sure different from lunch,” he said as he worked with five or six plates.
“What a wuss,” Heaven said. The bravado of the line was like electricity running through her veins.
Joe Long stuck his head into the pass-through, picking up a couple of foie gras and some blini. “Heaven, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Murray says Stuart Watts is on the phone and he says he must talk to you, that it’s an emergency.”
Heaven thought of the scene in the bathroom the other day and felt her stomach turn. She hoped Iris was all right, that drugs weren’t involved. She didn’t even argue, just went over to the phone in the kitchen. “What?” she bellowed over the din.
“Heaven, is Iris there with you?” Stuart asked, voice strained.
“I haven’t seen her, why?”
“She left here about a half hour ago. There was a phone call saying you had been burned in a kitchen accident, that she was to go to the Medical Center.”
“What? Who was the call from?”
“I have no idea. We were going to come down to the café for dinner and the show at midnight. We were almost ready. She said she’d call me and let me know what was happening. I haven’t heard from her since.”
“Stuart, I’m fine, plus I have a restaurant full of people who want to be fed so I need your help. Will you please call this number and tell Sergeant Bonnie Weber what you just told me? She was planning to stay home with her family tonight. If she doesn’t answer, leave a detailed message, please. Then come down here to the café,” Heaven said and gave him Bonnie’s home phone number plus her cell phone number. “And call Hank and make sure Iris isn’t sitting in the ER, waiting for me to show up,” she added, giving him Hank’s cell phone number. She knew Iris wasn’t at the hospital because she’d have come down to the restaurant by now or at least called, to make sure her mother was all right.
“So the call was bogus?” Stuart asked.
“I haven’t had an accident but I wouldn’t say I’m fine after hearing this. I’m worried sick and I have to go.” She hung up the phone and hurried back to her station, her heart heavy. She knew this was somehow connected to Kathy Hager and she kept seeing that room with all the chocolate in it at Kathy’s house. Was her daughter there now, bound and gagged? Did Bonnie have a stakeout, police watching Kathy’s house? She probably couldn’t justify it. Woodenly, Heaven filled plates and saute pans and kept cooking. She didn’t know what else to do.
The kitchen was set up so the line faced the dining room of the restaurant. At busy times like tonight, no one was paying attention to the back door of the kitchen because they were all facing the other direction.
So no one really knew what actually happened next.
A rock came crashing through one of the high, narrow windows. At the same time, a Molotov cocktail rolled across the kitchen floor and burst into flames; whether it was tossed in the unlocked door or came in the window after the rock, no one could say. As luck would have it, there was a small grease spill on the floor by the baking station near where the bottle fell and that patch burst into flames. The cooks were basically cut off from the kitchen door by a small conflagration.
They all turned around at the same time. “Shit,” Heaven said and grabbed one of the fire extinguishers. She was able to put out the smaller fire right away. Jumpin’ Jack, who was working salads, was beating at the larger fire with several rags, others were stomping on the fire, around the edges of the flames.
At that moment Heaven heard the sound of cries from the front of the house. “Keep working on it,” she said to her coworkers as she rushed out into the dining room and saw two small fires on the floor by the front windows, broken glass shards catching the light and showing the path taken into the restaurant by the missiles. Tony the bartender was rushing over with a fire extinguisher. Luckily, neither of these gasoline-filled bottles landed on a table or the lap of a guest.
“Murray,” Heaven yelled. He came running to the back. “The same thing happened in the back. Did you call 911?”
Murray shook his head. “Not yet. I think we’ll get this out.”
“Even if you do, call Bonnie. Do you think we should evacuate and shut down for the night?”
“Before the show?”
Heaven grabbed Murray’s arm. “Iris is missing. I think Kathy Hager has grabbed her just like she did Stephanie’s cousin. What’s going to happen next?”
“You mean are the guests in danger from something else?”
“That’s what I mean. And I don’t know that I would want to stay in a place that had just been firebombed. Think about it. I’m checking the fire back in the kitchen.”
“Heaven, telephone,” Brian Hoffman said as she raced back in the kitchen. “They said it was an emergency. Pretty funny. What do we call what we’ve got here?”
The fire in the kitchen was almost out, the kitchen being accustomed to having small fires. Most of the staff had retreated out into the alley to escape the black acrid smoke and the smell of gasoline. The floor was covered with baking soda, flour and other flame inhibitors. Jack was throwing kitchen towels on the floor around the fire area. Heaven grabbed the phone. “Stuart, did you hear from Iris?”
It wasn’t Stuart. “Did you like the fireworks?” someone asked.
“What do you want?” Heaven said, suddenly so tired she thought she would buckle.
“It’s what do you want. If you want your daughter, and your friend the little Miss Chocolate Queen, then meet me at the Foster’s factory. No cops,” the female voice said. Heaven was sure it was Kathy. Before she could say a thing, the line was dead.
Heaven turned to Jumpin’ Jack. “I think we should call it a night. I’m going to tell Murray. You all try to clean up the place. I have to go.”
“Go? You’re leaving”
“They were right, it’s an emergency,” she said, heading for the dining room. “Murray,” she yelled.
The fires were out, the front door was open and several tables of guests were continuing their dining, perhaps thinking the pyrotechnics were just a part of the floor show gone awry. Murray looked quizzically at his boss.
“Kathy Hager has Iris and Stephanie at the Foster’s plant. Did you get ahold of Bonnie?”
“Just her machine.”
“Keep trying her cell and home. Call 911 and tell them to meet me there but they must be careful. She may have booby trapped the place. Come to think of it, don’t call 911. She did say no cops, not that I intend on obeying. I’ll call them when I get there.”
“What should I do about the rest of the night?”
“Get the guests out of here. It’s eleven-t
hirty. Who knows what she might have planned for midnight. Make an announcement. Tell people to give us their names and addresses and we’ll send them a gift certificate for another dinner. This is going to cost a fortune,” Heaven said. “But I can’t worry about that now. I have to go.” Murray shook his head. “You can’t go by yourself.” “I have to. I’ll call you soon,” Heaven said. At that moment, a hook and ladder truck pulled up in front, lights flashing and sirens on full blast. Firefighters in yellow rubber gear poured in the door of the restaurant. Murray turned around to ask Heaven what to do but she was gone.
Heaven was surprised to find the gates of Foster’s factory open. Surely after all the events of the past few weeks they’d hired security. She drove through and parked by the front door, jumped out of the van and found the front doors locked. She ran around the side of the building toward the new wing, looking for an opening. The big sliding doors were open. She could see Kathy Hager bending over a piece of equipment inside.
Heaven slipped quietly into the big room. It was dark except for a light over the equipment that Kathy was standing by. She knew she couldn’t sneak up on her, that she would inevitably stumble on something. So she decided to declare herself. “Where’s my daughter?” she yelled.
“Right over here, Heaven. I’m having to adjust this machine manually to get the conveyer belt to repeat itself. But don’t get any ideas that you can take me.” Kathy Hager had a shotgun in her left hand, her right on the machine. She pointed the gun at Heaven waist-high like a Western sheriff. “Just because I didn’t go pheasant hunting last week doesn’t mean I don’t know how to shoot this thing, and a rifle too. But you know that. Come a little closer so you can see what I’m working on.”
Heaven took a few steps toward the other woman. On the conveyer belt in front of Kathy, Heaven saw Iris and Stephanie, tied down to the belt like it was a railroad track with duct tape on their mouths. They were both still fully clothed but an outer layer had been added. They were three-quarters covered with chocolate, starting with their shoes and coating their bodies up to their midsections. The conveyer whirred into motion and the two women moved slowly along the belt toward Kathy.
“I have to back this thing up to drop another load of chocolate on the girls. Doesn’t this remind you of that movie, The Cook, the Thief, whatever the rest of the title is?” Kathy pressed a lever and melted chocolate came rushing down on Stephanie, covering her breasts and neck. Iris was next.
“Except in that movie the guy was baked, wasn’t he?” Heaven said, trying to keep her voice even.
Kathy gave an ugly smile. “You’re lucky my Courtney wasn’t killed by a bread baker, Heaven. Your daughter would be toast by now.”
Heaven couldn’t believe this maniac was making bad food puns. “Toast, ha, ha. Good one. Why don’t you let my daughter go, Kathy. She doesn’t have anything to do with this. Let her go and I’ll stay here in her place.”
Kathy shook her head. “She’s the thing you love the most, that and your restaurant. I hope I did some damage there and now I’m going to destroy your daughter. You’ll see how it feels.” She pulled the lever and the hot chocolate oozed out and down on Iris. Heaven searched her brain frantically for the temperature of melted chocolate but couldn’t think. Was it burning the skin off Iris and Stephanie?
Both women seemed awake because they reacted to the hot chocolate as best they could, being bound. Heaven saw them tense up but she wasn’t close enough to see their eyes or make eye contact. She assumed they could hear what was being said as their ears were still free of chocolate. Heaven wondered if when the chocolate covered their noses, it would close their breathing passages. The conveyer belt moved the two slowly back up the line.
“Kathy, surely there’s a better way to make your point. No one will even understand why you’re doing this if you don’t tell the public what shits the Fosters are. They’ll just think you’re some nut.”
“I sent a letter explaining it all to Channel Five. Mailed it yesterday. Told them how Foster’s put people out of work, how they killed Courtney. They’ll get it on the second after this is all over.”
“When what’s over?”
Kathy smiled again, jerking the belt into action. Iris and Stephanie were headed back toward the coating machine. “Look around, Heaven. See the wine bottles here on the coating machine? There are more on the conching machine and the roaster. I want to make sure the most expensive pieces of equipment are ruined. I filled them up with gasoline just like the ones I threw in your café. After the girls get coated, I’ll just use my Remington to spread a little buckshot into these bottles. It should set off a nice fire.”
Heaven’s chest tightened. “And you want me to do what?”
“I figure you’ll try to save your daughter and go up in flames with her and the Foster’s bitch, here. You won’t be able to run out and leave them. I know that much about you.”
“Where are you going? You aren’t going to be any happier after this is all over,” Heaven said lamely, knowing it wasn’t going to have any effect.
“Oh, yes, I will be. Revenge is sweet. I’m going to head for Montana tonight. I stole some license plates and exchanged them for my old ones. When they catch me, they catch me.” With that she pulled the lever and chocolate covered Stephanie’s head and shoulders. She pointed the gun at Heaven again as Iris rolled into place and the coating machine deposited hot chocolate all over her face.
Heaven couldn’t help it. She started toward Kathy but didn’t get far. “Stay right there,” Kathy said and turned quickly and shot to her left. An explosion flamed up by the roaster. Kathy fired again. Another burst of flames. This effectively cut off one avenue of escape. Heaven was thunderstruck with the way she’d planned this out. She must have spent hours setting the place up before she snatched the two women.
Heaven looked around for the conching machine. It was about the same distance from Kathy in the opposite direction from the roaster. She saw Kathy turning toward it, then saw a blur of motion as someone leaped from behind the conveyer belt and tackled Kathy hard, bringing her down and sending the shotgun flying.
As Harold Foster rolled around on the floor with Kathy, Heaven ran over and grabbed the shotgun. She wanted to whack Kathy over the head with the butt end of the gun, but took it with her over to the conveyer belt instead and quickly wiped the chocolate off the nose and eye area of her daughter. Then she did the same with Stephanie. “Junior, where are the shop towels?” she called.
“Help,” Harold said and Heaven turned, realizing that Kathy was about to get the best of him.
“It will be my pleasure,” she said, and took a good swing at the side of Kathy’s head with the wooden end of the shotgun. Kathy fell over like a log, stunned, her eyes rolled back in her head, but breathing. Harold sat on her, panting.
“Junior, we’ve got several problems here. The fire for one, getting the girls loose, and keeping Kathy from destroying us all while unconscious,” Heaven said, looking around at the situation. “The girls will keep. Where’s the fire extinguisher?”
At that moment the overhead sprinklers came on. Water and foam—Heaven guessed some sort of fire retardant—started pouring down. She smiled. That was one thing taken care of, hopefully.
“Moving right along,” Heaven said. “Where’s some rope?”
Harold was mopping the foam off his face with a hankie. “The packing wires are right over there,” he said and gestured to his right.
“Perfect,” Heaven said as she went over and got several of the long metal bands and handed them to Harold. “Can you get her tied up?”
Harold nodded and rolled off the semi-conscious woman, whipping the wire around her hands quickly.
Heaven moved back to the conveyer belt, but called to the man over her shoulder, “Junior, I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life. What made you come down here?” She felt for an edge of the tape on Iris’s mouth. Iris’s eyes were open to a squint. “Do you have a pocket knife?”
>
Harold reached in his pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife, held it out to Heaven. “We went to a friend’s for dinner. Got back just after midnight and there was a message from the security company asking why my secretary had called to dismiss them. I came right down, but I just thought it was a mix-up, that they called the wrong company, until I saw the door open. Then I called 911 and snuck in the back.”
Heaven cut the tape on her daughter’s mouth and pulled on it. “Honey, I know this is going to hurt.” She jerked it just far enough for Iris to gasp for breath. “Are you okay?” she said, tears in her eyes.
“Oh, my God, Mom. She was going to kill us.”
“Hang on, sweetie. The paramedics will be here soon. Just try to relax. I’m going to take off Stephanie’s tape,” Heaven said, wiping chocolate off her daughter’s face.
As Heaven went over to work on Stephanie, she heard the sound of sirens coming their way.
“Well, well, if this isn’t a pretty picture,” a voice boomed. It was Bonnie Weber, walking into the factory. “A bunch of drowned rats covered with chocolate,” she said. “Mr. Foster, can you turn off the sprinklers? It looks like they did their work.” The fires were smoking but seemed to be out.
Heaven smiled weakly at her friend. “Happy New Year’s.”
As Heaven drove down 39th Street, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Dozens of Café Heaven chairs were out on the sidewalk and most of the chairs were filled. It looked like some of the guests and most of the staff had put on their coats and moved outside. Everyone had a coffee cup but Heaven was pretty sure they weren’t drinking coffee. She pulled up in front and got out of the van.
Murray came rushing out. “I was staying by the phone. Is Iris okay?”
“She’s down at the ER with Hank right now. I just came from there. Both she and Stephanie have third-or fourth-degree burns in some places. Hank’s going to keep them all night.”
She turned around to see Stuart standing in the doorway of the café. “Where is she?” he asked, looked as old as Heaven felt.
Death is Semisweet Page 17
