The piano player builds the suspense, melodramatically.
Gunther looks scared and Isabella reassures him. “Don’t worry. It’s part of the show.”
“Oh, okay. I didn’t know. I’ve never been to one of these things.”
Isabella tells him what she has read about these types of shows while Nicole and Joshua strike up their own conversation. They talk about the Black Keys concert that Nicole just went to. Joshua tells her that they are his favorite band.
Isabella, not wanting to be left out, says, “I think they have too many rough edges. They sound like a garage band. Besides, that lead singer’s hair always looks dirty. What’s up with that?”
Joshua says, “They sound like a garage band because they’re trying to sound like a garage band.”
“Oh, I see,” Isabella says, wanting to say, “Well…excuse me!”
All of a sudden, the lights in the dining room grow almost completely dark and a man steps out from the kitchen with a flashlight. It’s the best man and he walks over to the wedding table, looking for something on the floor.
He shines the flashlight around the room and walks back into the kitchen. Next, Henri comes into the dining room carrying his own flashlight and looking for something on the floor by the bride’s chair.
He doesn’t find what he’s looking for either. When the lights come back on, the diners are relieved: it was difficult to see their plates while they’ve been eating.
Then, they hear a loud thud and another scream, but this time it’s coming from inside the dining room. They look around and see the lady in the polka dot dress standing and pointing at a body on the floor. She yells, “Oh my God! My husband!” She kneels on the floor next to him and cries, “His head’s bleeding!” The lady who came with her kneels down next to her and shouts to the crowd, “Somebody call an ambulance!”
Isabella looks at her friends and says, “I don’t think this is part of the show.”
Chapter Six
Everyone looks down in horror to see the body on the floor. Blood is pooling around the poor man’s head. One of the diners stands up and says, “I’m a doctor. Let me look at him.”
The wife shouts, “Did someone call an ambulance?!”
Hamid assures her, “Yes, Madame. They are on their way.”
She kneels down next to her husband and tries to make the bleeding stop with her hand.
The doctor tells her, “Let me see him.” He kneels down next to the body. “It looks like he’s been shot in the head.” He grabs the man’s wrist, and checks for a pulse. “I’m so very sorry. I don’t feel a pulse,” he says to the man’s wife.
“No!” the wife screams, and the woman she’s with tries to comfort her.
“I am her sister,” she tells the doctor. “Can’t we cover up the body with a tablecloth or something?”
The wife says, “No! I won’t believe he’s gone until the paramedics say so.”
Hamid says, “Okay, everybody. Let’s try to keep calm until they get here.”
The diners whisper and murmur at their tables. Isabella looks at Joshua, and says, “This is scary.”
He moves his chair closer to her and holds her hand. Trying to comfort her, he says, “I’m sorry this is happening, sweetie.”
She says, “I’m the one who’s sorry. Dragging us all into this.”
“I wouldn’t change this night for anything,” he says.
“You’re kidding?!”
“No. I’m serious. This is a big deal for me. You finally agreed to go out with me. And here we are at last.”
“You probably wish we’d gone out to dinner and then back to your place.”
“Well…I got to admit, that was my number one choice.”
“I remember.” They both laugh. “I’ll make this up to you, Joshua. I promise.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong. Although, I could think of some ways you could make it up to me,” he tells her with a wink and reaches over to squeeze her knee.
The paramedics finally arrive and all eyes are back to the man on the floor. Blood leaks out of the edges of the tablecloth that’s covering him. The doctor and sister convince the wife to get up off the floor and sit down at the table. Her sister holds her hand and talks softly to her. Her sister’s date has his eyes closed and looks like he is praying.
*******
The paramedic confirms that the man is indeed dead.
“Don’t you want to take him to the hospital to be sure?” the wife pleads, refusing to believe that her husband is gone.
Her sister puts her arm around her shoulder and says, “He’s gone, Karen.”
The paramedic says, “The body can’t be moved until the pathologist gets here. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
The praying man opens his eyes and introduces himself as the victim’s brother-in-law. He asks the paramedic, “Was he shot in the back of the head?”
“It looks that way.”
“Why didn’t we hear the gun shot?”
“That will be something to take up with the police.”
As if on cue, a patrol officer arrives at the restaurant. He says to everyone, “Okay. Nobody leaves here until we say so.” He walks over to the covered body and asks the paramedic, “What have we got here?”
“The deceased looks like he’s been shot in the back of the head. It doesn’t look like the bullet exited his brain.”
Upon hearing this, the wife lets out a scream. The doctor goes over to comfort her, and then asks the paramedic if he has a sedative or anything to calm the poor woman down.
Meanwhile, the members of the cast still have their aprons on and serve up coffee and brandy to the diners. They are no longer their former campy, confident selves and are just as uncomfortable as every else in the room. What a strange twist that they are now real-life waiters and waitresses to the paying guests.
A man at a table says, “Can’t I go out for a smoke?”
“Nobody leaves this room,” the cop reminds him. He talks to the wife and her family, writing down notes in his pad.
“What is he saying?” Isabella asks Joshua.
“I can’t hear him either.”
The policeman is making a phone call when a woman walks into the room. She introduces herself as the pathologist and starts looking at the body.
The wife cries uncontrollably and the policeman tells her sister, “Can’t you move her across the room so she doesn’t have to see all this?”
“Of course,” her sister says. Her husband helps her walk her grieving sister over to an empty table out of view of the body.
Back at Isabella’s table, Gunther looks like he’s having a nervous breakdown. His eyes are enormous and he can’t stop his foot from tap, tap, tapping.
“Yo! Gunther. Are you okay?” Joshua asks.
“I’m having a panic attack.”
“We all are.”
“I mean it. I’m different. I need my meds.”
“Where are they?”
“At home.”
Nicole says, “Try to relax, Gunther. None of us can go anywhere right now.”
Isabella and Nicole look at each other with sympathy. “What a night,” Isabella says.
A moment later, Nicole notices that something is different in her friend’s demeanor. Isabella looks possessed. Like something has taken over her mind. Nicole looks in the direction of Isabella’s gaze, and sees a very tall, dark, and handsome man in a black suit, while shirt, and thin black tie. “Oh, my God,” Nicole says. “He looks just like Don Draper.”
Chapter Seven
Isabella’s mouth is agape as she stares at the man. He walks over to the policeman and pathologist and says, “What have we got here?”
They tell him what is happening and he writes down some notes. He immediately takes charge of the room. He seems gracious and doesn’t bark at people. He is perfect. At least according to most of the women in the room.
He introduces himself to the actors and diners, saying, “Good evening, lad
ies and gentlemen. My name is Detective Don Sterling. We’ll try to finish this up and let you people go back to your homes as soon as possible. But first, it is very important that we talk to each of you, since you were eye witnesses to the murder tonight.”
Isabella thinks, Start with me. Start with me.
As if he can feel her energy, he looks right at her.
Oh, my God!
He walks over to her table, and tells the crowd, “I’ll start with these nice people.”
He pulls up a chair at Isabella’s table and sits next to her. “Has anyone ever told you that you look Joan on ‘Mad Men’?”
His question calms the table a bit.
She tries to speak, but her mouth is as dry as the Mojave Desert. After she takes a sip of water, she manages to answer, “Uh…yes.”
He smiles at her and says, “What’s your name?”
What is my name? I can’t think straight.
When she finally comes to, she tells him her full name, address, and phone number (“Call me!” she wants to say).
He writes down her name. “Isabella,” he says. “That’s a pretty name. Just like the character in ‘Twilight’.”
I’m going to have to rent that DVD, she tells herself.
He continues, “Okay, Isabella. Tell me what you saw tonight?”
Isabella can’t remember. She’s never been this befuddled in her whole life. Finally, she collects her thoughts and says, “I couldn’t see anything. The lights were turned off and the only light I saw was from the flashlight.”
“What flashlight?”
“The ones the actors were holding.”
Joshua steps in and says, “It was part of the show. Two actors came out holding flashlights. They both were far away from the table where the poor guy was sitting.”
Detective Sterling says, “And who are you?”
Joshua tells him his name, address, and phone number.
He writes the information down and says, “Joshua, do you have any idea why this man was murdered tonight?”
“No. I didn’t see anything that would lead me to believe it would end like this.”
“Have you ever seen this man before?”
“No.”
The detective looks at Nicole and Gunther and asks them the same questions. They both say that they’ve never seen him before and can’t think of any reason why someone would want to kill him.
“Tell me what your names and addresses are,” he says to both of them.
He looks back at Isabella and says, “Did you see anything suspicious tonight, Isabella?”
“No. He seemed like a nice man. He had a little too much to drink, and his voice kept getting louder. He also bought champagne for everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“Yes. Everyone in the room. The actors and the diners. He was kind of reckless with his spending.”
“You think so?”
“Well, yeah. He seemed to be throwing it around.”
“Throwing it around, huh?”
“Well, it seemed that way to me,” she says, suddenly feeling stupid and self-conscious.
“Did you notice anything unusual happening at his table. Any arguments between him and his wife or in-laws, for example?”
“No. I didn’t see anything.”
She looks at her friends and says, “Did you guys notice anything?”
They all shake their heads. “No; I was watching the actors,” Nicole says.
The detective asks them, “Did you stay in your seats while it was dark?”
They assure him that it was too dark to stand up, even if they’d wanted to.
He tells them, “Okay. That’s enough. Thank you for your information. I’ll let you go home now.”
But I want to stay! Isabella thinks.
He hands out his card to everyone and says, “If you can think of anything else, please call me.”
“Okay,” Isabella says. I hope he doesn’t rue the day he gave his phone number to me.
He looks at her and says, “You may leave now.”
Isabella tells him, “It was nice meeting you.” That was a weird thing to say, she tells herself.
He smiles, like he understands her awkwardness and says, “It was nice meeting you, too.”
Isabella and her friends stand up and collect their things. As they are walking out, she whispers to Nicole, “I wish we could stay.”
Nicole says, “Me, too.”
Joshua tells them, “I’m glad he finally let us leave. I got to get Gunther back home so he can take his meds.”
Nicole asks him, “Gunther, how are you feeling?”
“I’m just glad to be out of there. Looking at that body. It was horrible.”
Nicole says, “I know. It was horrible.”
Gunther shakes her hand and says, “It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” she answers.
He looks at Isabella and says, “It was nice to meet you, too.”
“Thanks, Gunther. Likewise.”
Joshua tells him to wait in the car while he walks the ladies to Isabella’s car. When they get to her car, he whispers to her, “Can I at least kiss you right now?”
“Uh, okay. Sure.”
He puts his arms around her, and presses his body against hers. What a time for a hard-on, Isabella thinks. They embrace for a long time and French kiss. Isabella breaks away and tells him, “You’d better take Gunther home.”
“Can I come by your house afterwards?”
“I’m really tired,” Isabella says. “Some other time, okay?”
“Well, okay.”
He looks over at Nicole and says, “Nice to see you again, Nicole. As always.” He gives her a peck on the cheek.
“See you later,” she says and he walks back to his car.
Nicole admires his butt while he is walking away.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Isabella scolds her.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help but look. You got to admit, he sure has a nice bod.”
“Does he? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You’re thinking about that detective, aren’t you?”
“You know me too well,” she says, clutching his card like it is a million dollars.
Chapter Eight
Later that night, Isabella gives up her battle with insomnia. She is too keyed up from the night’s events to rest her mind. Between reliving the murder, looking for clues as to how it happened, and thinking about the detective, sleep is just not happening tonight. She rises out and bed and walks naked into the bathroom. She finds some matches in the sink drawer and lights several candles; then pours her favorite bubble bath into the running water. Gingerly, she steps into the tub, and lets the water rise up to her neck as she rests her head on a bath pillow. She turns off the water, lays her head back down on the bath pillow, and closes her eyes. Her thoughts turn once again to the detective. She imagines him with his shirt off, wearing a faded pair of jeans, with the top button not done up. He is walking towards her. He has washboard abs and is wearing army dog tags on a chain around his neck. He slowly unzips his jeans and sheds them on the floor, showing off a body designed by the Gods. He lets her admire his package before he steps into the tub to join her. He maneuvers her body in the tub so that her back is in front of him. He gently washes her back and rinses it off. He moves the bar of soap to the front of her body, and starts lathering up her large breasts. Slowly, he rinses them off with bath water and holds her close to him, continuing to massage her breasts. He scoots up even closer, so the she can feel his hardness pressing against her. She turns around to look at him while he admires her well-endowed body. They rise up out of the water, caressing each other, as she admires and fondles his manhood. He gently dries her off and she does the same for him. He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. He lays her down on the bed and kisses her in all her favorite places. A bolt of electricity shoots through her, making her quiver with delight.
Back in the real world, Isabella lets
out a long sigh. If only, she tells herself. How am I going to get that man into my bathtub? And will I ever even see him again?
*******
The following morning, Isabella drags herself out of bed at 10:00. Resisting the urge to drive to Krispy Kreme and have more doughnuts, she pours herself a bowl of Fiber One cereal and slices a banana on top before she pours in the milk. I am going to lose weight; I am going to lose weight, she tells herself.
After she finishes eating, she goes on her computer to rent “Twilight” from her local “Red Box”. On the off-chance I ever see the detective again, I want to talk about the movie with him--since he mentioned it and all.
She puts on some shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes and pins up her unruly hair; then drives over to the nearest “Ralph’s” and buys some salad fixings, Slimfast, and non-fat milk. She checks out her rental from the “Red Box” inside, and returns home. First thing she does after putting the groceries away is watch “Twilight’’. Her phone rings a few times, and she lets voice mail pick up.
When the movie’s over, she goes back into the kitchen and stirs some Slimfast into a glass of milk, trying—with no luck—to gulp it all down with one swallow. As usual, she didn’t stir it well enough and chocolate powder remains at the bottom of her glass. She shakes her head in disgust, and rinses out the glass. She walks into the living room and pulls out the 1980’s albums she inherited from her favorite aunt. Her aunt also left her a turntable to play them on. Whenever Isabella is feeling “the pangs of unrequited love,” she dusts off the vinyl and puts on a 1980’s album. They just speak to her, somehow. Today’s choice is Echo and the Bunnymens’ song, “The Killing Moon,” which is about waiting until you give yourself to him. She lies down on the couch, and makes herself comfortable, singing along with the record. When their song “Won’t You Come on Down to My Rescue” plays, she stands up and starts dancing, imagining that she’s performing a private dance for the detective, wearing nothing but hooker-shoes. After she spends over two hours listening to records, she scolds herself: Look at you. Moonin’ around like a teenager. Act your age, for heaven’s sake!
Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance Page 3
