“Those are some powerful drugs you’re on.”
“Pepper, don’t joke about this. My whole life, I’ve admired you, envied you, and I’ve let it get in the way of our friendship.”
felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. “You admired me? Maddie, that’s nuts. I dropped out of college, wasting the internship you wanted. I got divorced. I lost my dream job. You’re the one who was the star of every class, married a great guy, took over the family business. Heck, you figured out a way to buy back the family property, something even your dad couldn’t do. And don’t tell me that was Pat. He may have thought up the plan, but you had the guts to make it happen.”
“No.” She shook her head, the bandage smaller, the shaved hair turning to stubble. “Maybe it took you a while to figure out what you wanted, but you followed your heart. You made your own life. Me, I was the good girl who followed the path my family laid out.”
“And this wasn’t it?” I gestured, but I didn’t mean the hospital room, the monitors and the beeping machines. I meant what I’d seen as her picture-perfect life.
“I love Tim. I love our kids. I like helping people create the right space to make their dreams come true. Keeping neighborhoods vibrant and alive. It’s good work; I know that. It’s the work my father raised me to do.”
“You wanted a career in social services. I heard you say so.”
“I chose my family legacy over my dreams, Pepper. That was my choice, not your fault.”
The door opened and a nurse poked his head in. “Five minutes. Then we’ve got to get you moved.”
I reached for her hand. “It’s not too late. You can scale back. Sell the company. Hire a manager and work as much or as little as you want. Get that degree in social work. Take up pottery or hothouse yoga. Spend a year in Italy learning to make cheese.”
“Petrosian Parmesan,” she said. “I know exactly the place to put it in the new corner grocery.”
SOME shopkeeper I am, I thought as I angled across the intersection of First and Pike Place. I had missed most of the busiest day of the week.
It’s always amazes me how two people can remember the same incident, or the same time in our lives, so differently. Me and Maddie. Me and Tag. Me and Tag and Kimberly Clark. We view what happens through our own lens, and that lens tints our memories as well. Maddie might never be able to fully piece together what happened in her family all those years ago, but she might glean enough facts from Jake Byrd’s account, if she could see through the film of his bitterness, to clear the picture.
And that, I hoped, would give her a better vision of what her future could be.
Despite the crowds on the sidewalks, I could see the old lady perched on her stool outside the Asian shop. She wagged her head and Lily came rushing toward me. “Pepper,” she said. “We had tea and I helped walk the dog.”
“I’m so glad. Arf loves going for walks.”
“Guess what else? My daddy’s going to stay. He’s getting a green car. He and my mama are getting married. On my birthday.”
Green car. “Oh. You mean his green card? The paper that means he’s a permanent resident of the U.S., even though he isn’t a citizen?”
Lily bounced up and down. “Yes! We’re going to have a party to celebrate. Will you come? You and Arf.”
I glanced at her mother, smiling at us from behind the front counter. “We’d be delighted.”
Two blocks down the street, on the corner outside my shop, I spotted a tall, dark, and handsome guy talking to a blond with pink and orange streaks in her hair. By the man’s side stood a dog. My guy, my dog.
Nate and I embraced and kissed. I ran my hand through his dark hair. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
He kissed me again.
“I take it you two have met,” I said when I came up for air and saw Jamie beaming at us.
“You’ve been making new friends while I was away,” Nate said.
“Plus reconnecting with old ones,” I said. “Have I got stories for you.”
Nate took Arf home. Inside, in between helping customers, I told my staff what had happened.
“So Cody’s parents had nothing to do with it?” Reed asked.
“Looks that way,” I said, though it would be a long time before the Ellingsons’ family life returned to anything like normal.
Minutes before closing, the two detectives arrived.
“You look like you could use a pick-me-up,” I said, and poured cups of spice tea. We sat in the nook.
“Byrd confessed to both crimes,” Tracy said. “It would have taken us a lot longer to nail him without you.”
A weight I hadn’t known I was carrying slipped off my shoulders.
“He was waiting for an opportunity to get into the ICU, wasn’t he, to take another shot? When the guard took his afternoon break.”
“Looks that way,” Tracy said. “He was armed, and we’re pretty sure it was the same gun that shot both Mr. Halloran and Ms. Petrosian. We also found a burner phone, probably the one he used to set up the meeting with Ms. Petrosian.”
Making sure no one could track him.
“We’ve informed Mrs. Halloran,” Armstrong said, “of the arrest and confession. We’ve also made sure she knows Ms. Petrosian confirmed your theory about Pat Halloran’s role devising her property buy-out scheme.”
I hoped this put an end to Laurel’s nightmares.
“What about the Ellingsons?” I asked.
“We were wrapping up our interviews with them when Officer Clark called,” Tracy said. “For three years, he feared she’d killed Halloran. Turns out she thought he’d done it.”
What a tangled web.
“I ran into a very happy little girl down the street. I take it Special Agent Greer’s investigation lets Joe Huang off the hook.”
“Not completely, not yet,” Tracy said. “But it appears to be headed that way. Seems her birthday explains the timing of his presence in the country. He’s cooperating with the feds and has implicated his boss and others in the organization. Something to do with imported goods and trade secrets—that’s about all we know at this point.”
So all suspects were present and accounted for. All was right with the world.
Or would be. Shortly.
THE fragrance of a deep simmer, of fish and stock and bay leaves, greeted me when I unlocked the front door to my building.
And a fuzzy dog and a gorgeous man greeted me at the front door of the loft. From the living room came the sounds of Diane Schuur singing Cole Porter. “So nice to come home to.”
Nate took my face in his hands and kissed me. Then he took my red, scraped hands and kissed my palms.
“Can you stand one more bowl of soup?” he asked. “All that soup talk early this week got me in the mood.”
“When it smells this good, you bet.”
I was halfway to the bathroom when I stopped and turned around. “By the way, Mr. Fisher Man, I don’t think I’ve told you lately that I’m madly in love with you.”
“It goes both ways, Spice Girl.” A slow sweet smile crossed his face. “It goes both ways.”
I took a quick shower to rinse off the remains of the day. In the bedroom, I put on a clean T-shirt and glanced around. Two walls redbrick, two painted a soft caramel. The bed covered with the black-and-white antique quilt Kristen and I had found in a shop up near the Canadian border. The rolling doors, the tansu, the neon lips on the wall. Nate’s sweater tossed over the wooden chair.
I didn’t need to expand into the unit beneath this one. Maybe Glenn and his Nate could rent it during their construction project. My loft was perfect just the way it was. I’d rather leave it alone and gain a new neighbor. Throw more potlucks and cocktail parties for the building. Start working on that rooftop garden.
Then the music stopped and the broadcasters started their World Series pregame chatter. I stepped int
o a fresh pair of yoga pants and smiled.
Everything I wanted, everything I loved and needed, was safe and warm and dry, right here, between these four walls.
Thirty
Our house is a very, very, very fine house . . .
Now everything is easy ’cause of you.
— Graham Nash, “Our House”
A WEEK HAD PASSED SINCE WHAT MY NEAREST AND DEAREST were calling the Great Sidewalk Coffee Caper. The newspaper had run lengthy articles discussing virtually every aspect of Patrick Halloran’s career, the twists and turns the investigation had taken over the years, and the unexpected link to Maddie’s shooting. A series of stories covered the Petrosian family, the properties they’d saved from the wrecking ball, and their good deeds. At my request, the detectives had referred to my role only as “assistance from a citizen.” If the charges against Byrd went to trial, I’d have to testify and my identity would be made public. But I didn’t want reporters and camera crews following me through the Market or camping on my doorstep. I had a business to run, and a party to throw.
All the staff were on hand, including Cody Ellingson, whose main job today was to help Matt keep the pseudo-samovar full of tea and sweep up cookie crumbs and dropped napkins.
The heads of the Public Development Authority and the Market Merchants Association had both dropped by to offer congratulations and enjoy lemon thyme shortbread and ginger-snaps. Friends and suppliers had sent flowers and other gifts. Market neighbors, including Misty the Baker, Vinnie the Wine Merchant, and my new pals, Jamie the Painter and Lily and her mother, had come by.
Edgar arrived with a shopping bag. “For you and your sweetheart. Hide it so your employees won’t be tempted.”
I peered in at the brown paper “to go” boxes. “What is it?”
“The best crab cakes in the city. And bones for your dog.”
Treats for the entire family. “I have to confess, I didn’t solve your stolen spice problem all by myself. Sandra helped, and so did Tariq.”
Edgar’s eyebrows rose, but I had a feeling that if Tariq came looking for a job, Edgar might give him a chance.
“Good,” he said. “Good. But now I need a new bartender.”
I glanced at Cody. I knew from his job application that he’d turned twenty-one a few weeks ago. “Will you train?”
“Si, si, yeees!” Edgar said.
My good deed might cost me my new deliveryman. No matter. At that age, I hadn’t had a clue what I wanted to do with my life, but eventually I’d found the right path. Restaurant work might be Cody’s path or not, but I was happy to give him all the help I could.
I left the two men talking and greeted Jamie, who held out a small flat package. “Special delivery.”
I unwrapped it and turned the canvas over. Then I gasped, and I swear, my hand flew to my heart.
“It’s—it’s spectacular. The colors. The flowers. The joy.”
“I call it ‘The Dance of the Dahlias,’” she said. “It’s a thank you gift, for making me feel so welcome in the Market.”
In a day crazier than any day in ages, tears streaming down my hot, sweaty cheeks, nothing could have made me happier.
Except the next arrivals: Tim, Maddie, and the kids, each in new Sounders jerseys, along with Miriam and Tim’s sister.
“You came.” I took Maddie’s hands in mine. Seeing her wearing lipstick again almost made me cry.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she replied. “Life’s too short to let anything stand in the way of friendship, as I have just been reminded.”
I led her to the nook where she could sit while her family got snacks and explored the shop. “So what’s next?”
“Rehab, PT. And I’ve got a construction project to oversee, though my project manager will be stepping up his role in the company. In fact, we started demolition earlier this week, and I wanted you to see what we found.” She held out her phone and showed me a picture of the side of the insurance agency building, the name “GREGORIAN & SON, GROCERS” visible in faint white paint.
“A ghost sign,” I said.
“I asked my architect to see if we can reconfigure the building plans to show it off. She thinks we can create a rooftop deck below the sign, so it will be visible from the deck and the street. My gift to the neighborhood.”
“That’s a terrific idea. See, I told you—you always find a way to do what you want.”
“No more pedestals, Pepper. Please. It’s lonely up there.”
“I promise,” I said, and drew an X across my heart.
“And I’d like to spend more time with you and Kristen. Go antiquing, catch a movie.”
I nodded. Maybe, now that Laurel’s suspicions had been allayed, we could invite Maddie to join Flick Chicks.
“Bay leaves?” I heard a customer say. “I didn’t think anyone used them anymore.”
“The soup cook’s best friend,” Sandra replied.
Between the friends and the customers, old and new, I almost didn’t notice the arrival of three Seattle police officers—two detectives and a uniformed bicycle cop.
“Quite a shindig,” Detective Tracy said, surveying the scene.
“My second anniversary as the Mistress of Spice,” I said. “Worth celebrating. Care for a cookie?”
“In a minute,” he said. “First, I have a bit of official business to conduct. Well, semi-official.”
For half a second, I panicked. When a cop says he’s got business to conduct and he’s staring right at you, panic seems like a reasonable response. Especially when he turns down a cookie.
And then I saw the grin on Tag’s face, and another on Armstrong’s.
Tracy drew a flat, faux leather box out of his sport coat pocket and held it out.
Inside, on a blue velvet bed, lay a shiny gold shield. “Seattle Police Department,” it read. “Honorary Member.”
My badge. Honorary, maybe; but a badge.
I pinned it on my apron, just above the saltshaker logo. Heaven knows, I’d earned it.
Recipes and Spice Notes
The Seattle Spice Shop Recommends . . .
The Spice Shop stop on the Market Food Tour includes a few favorites from the Spice Shop collection, featured in earlier books:
Spiced Glazed Nuts and Pretzel Mix— Assault and Pepper
Lemon Thyme Cookies and Pepper’s Gingersnaps— Killing Thyme
Edgar’s Baked Paprika Cheese— Chai Another Day
Grape, Prosciutto, and Mozzarella Skewers— Chai Another Day, using Pepper’s Italian Herb Blend from Assault and Pepper
And you’ll find recipes for chai for baking and sipping in Chai Another Day.
LAVENDER-BAY SALT
While Pepper can’t tell you every ingredient in the blend she created for Edgar, she loves encouraging customers to try an herbed salt or two. Herbed salts are an easy way to add flavor without spending a lot of time in the kitchen. Lavender-bay is particularly tasty with eggs, potatoes, and sautéed veggies. Remember, bay needs a little heat to release its full flavor.
1½ teaspoon dried bay leaves, dried lavender buds, or a 50/50 mix
2 tablespoons kosher salt
Strip 8 to 10 bay leaves into a spice grinder. (Tip: Fold the dried leaf in half along the spine and break off each half; discard the spine.) Pulse until finely ground. If you’re using lavender, coarsely grind the buds.
The crystal structure of kosher salt makes a great base for flavored salts. Coarse, flaky salts like Maldon are a better choice if you’re using the salt on top, as a finishing salt, rather than as an ingredient.
Keep in mind Pepper’s advice that blends are best after they’ve had a few hours to meld, marry, or mellow, as the case may be.
A Classic Cookie from Ripe
ALMOND BISCOTTI
Biscotti have a reputation for being a major kitchen project, but Laurel’s version of the classic Italian dippi
ng cookie is as easy as it is tasty, crunchy on the outside and chewy inside. For an extra treat, dip a few in melted chocolate, or paint chocolate on one side.
2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour, plus more for the work surface
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
The Solace of Bay Leaves Page 26