Grand Opening

by T. F. Pruden

Ronnie Sargeant moved next to the tall chef’s body. He rolled the corpse on its back. He ignored the open fly and removed a wallet from the inside pocket of the coat before rifling through the pockets of the pants. When he removed all items that might identify the fellow he turned the body face down and stood.

  He nodded to his brother to indicate the job was done.

  Without a word the brothers climbed into the pickup truck. Reggie started it and they drove away. When they reached a break in the trees, a few yards down the ragged trail he turned around and headed back toward the deserted highway.

  “Looks like over two gran’ here,” Ronnie said to his brother.

  As he counted the bills spread on the seat between them he gave a low whistle. The haul pleased him and he was proud of himself for orchestrating it.

  “Nice score if I do say.”

  “Yup,” Reggie agreed with a grin, “you sure ain’t los’ yer touch.”

  The big man eased the truck up and out of the gravel ditch. He turned to the right, accelerating with care on the ice covered highway as they traveled south. They went in the direction from which they had arrived. The family homestead was two hours to the southwest at highway speed. It waited in the flat countryside surrounding the village of Glasnevin.

  Reggie checked the fuel gauge on the dash. He doubted they would make it without first stopping for gas.

  “Gonna havta gas up pert’ soon,” he said to his brother, “wanna stop in White City or wait ‘til we gat ta’ Rowatt?”

  “Probly bes’ if we wait ‘til Rowatt if you think we can make ‘er,” Ronnie answered him with a grin, “less people there an’ not likely we’ll meet anybody ‘at mighta’ been on ‘at bus las’ night I’m thinkin’.”

  “You’re probly right agin’ there bro,’“ Reggie replied, nodding as he looked at his brother with criminal respect, “you gonna hog ‘at bottle fer’ yersef’ ‘er share it wit’ yer’ driver?”

  Ronnie laughed as he handed the bottle across the seat.

  “You be careful wit’ ‘dat stuff,” he said, “we don’ needa’ git stopped ‘fer an impaired on a day like ‘is you know.”

  The big man smiled as he smacked his lips and passed the bottle back to the baby brother he loved and had lived with since birth.

  “Good stuff!” he said, “an’ I jus’ wanted a lil’ drop to wet my whistle aff’er getting’ ‘at job done, you kin’ work on ‘at ‘til we get home.”

  Ronnie Sargeant laughed and reached across the seat to clap his brother on his immense shoulder. He would return home satisfied with the results of their latest score.

  “It’s good to be goin’ home an’ great to be wit’ you Reggie,” he said, “I can’t tell you how much I hated bein’ locked up in ‘at gaw’damn shithouse all winter!”

  The big man nodded and made no reply to his younger brother. He watched the horizon and checked his rear-view mirror for traffic, satisfied the narrow road remained deserted as he expected. Soon the afternoon sun would settle beyond the western horizon. The coyotes surrounding the small lake would appear from out of the falling darkness in search of whatever carrion they could scavenge.

  Reggie smiled as he thought of the animals gorging themselves and fighting over the carcass they would soon find. The resulting distribution of skeletal remains would serve as a far better method of covering their tracks than any the brothers might devise on their own.

  He turned the radio up loud and drove at the posted speed limit through the falling snow now covering the two-lane blacktop. He drove without fear toward the distant Sargeant family homestead.

  Reggie was secure in the belief their latest journey had been unseen by human eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Wayne placed the crossed fork and steak knife into the empty plate on the linen covered table in front of him.

  He smiled to his landlord seated on the opposite side of the booth. With his hunger now sated the meal prepared by the young chef J.D. Dryer pleased him well enough. Wayne hoped the first paying customers served by ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’ felt the same way.

  Ben Newberg nodded to him with a grin before reaching for the water glass next to his plate. His meal of filet mignon and lobster tail with vegetable medley, roast potato and garlic toast he finished in no time. He now wondered if dessert would be forthcoming.

  Wayne had known his friend and landlord long enough to appreciate gluttony would demand he eat more than they planned to serve. This despite the appetizers provided before dinner and the large portions composing the meal.

  He shook his head and chuckled.

  With any luck, the dessert tray would arrive before Ben would order seconds.

  The men sat in the northwest corner of the dining room. Wayne surveyed the room from the location. Despite polishing off three doubles of twelve-year old Scotch excitement kept him fully aware of his surroundings. He scanned from tables to booths and tried to gauge the reaction of his guests.

  The room remained filled with diners also finished their meals and relaxing. Though he couldn’t be sure Wayne told himself they looked satisfied with the service received. He had yet to drink enough Scotch to be convinced.

  “That was a damn fine meal,” Bill Saturday said from the seat beside him, “my compliments to the chef!”

  “Agreed!” Ben Newberg concurred from across the booth.

  He turned to address his date seated next to him.

  “And what did you think Jessie?”

  “Delicious!” the attractive brunette replied with a smile imitating sincerity, “very nice and I’ll be spreading the word for you guys Wayne.”

  “Thank you my friends,” Wayne said.

  He grinned like a fool as the whisky hit him. It was a relief his companions were at least willing to lie to him about the service.

  “We appreciate your support and hope you’ll make us a regular stop.”

  “When’s the dessert tray gonna be by?” Ben Newberg asked.

  “I could use a whisky myself,” Bill Saturday’s half-drunk voice chimed.

  Ben Newberg’s date Jessie Walters said nothing, but watched the old newsman seated across from her. She noted he only picked at his meal.

  “Let me get a waitress over here,” Wayne said, waving a hand to Sarah Lampley who watched him from the hostess desk.

  Rene sighed as Bonnie Lane removed the dishes from the linen-covered table.

  With his belly full and pleased by the meal he hoped his guests were likewise satisfied. He sat in the booth closest to the kitchen entrance. His girlfriend Jane McIntyre was next to him while Richie Pallento and his wife Monica sat across from them.

  Though he intended to perform a stealthy examination of his guests’ response to the meal, his hunger distracted him. He then enjoyed the food enough to lose track of the first impressions he sought. Rene would now be forced to await their reviews and could only hope they were honest.

  Their evaluation of his namesake restaurant would decide the success or failure of the place.

  “That was damned good chow partner!” Richie Pallento said with what sounded like real enthusiasm, “Congratulations!”

  “I have to agree with the love of my life,” Monica Pallento chimed in with a smile from beside her husband, “he might not know much but he knows good food and that was definitely it Rene. Congratulations!”

  Richie raised a bemused eyebrow as he turned to look at his wife. She was a decade younger and in great shape despite gifting him with three children.

  “I’m glad you agree my darling,” the hotelier said with gentle sarcasm dripping, “and I know good food just like I know a good woman.”

  “You sure do hon,” Monica replied saucily, “and where is she? Did I miss her when I walked in here?”

  The tablemates laughed in unison at her sharp wit. Richie wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder and squeezed her against him, kissing her forehead as he did.

  “I love you baby,” he said in a voice loud enough for the
table to hear.

  “And I love you my darling,” Monica replied with a smile before planting a kiss on her husbands’ cheek.

  “Tabernac! Do we need to get you two a room?” Rene asked playfully.

  The married couple laughed with the friends seated across from them.

  “We’ll try hold out until after this show is over here,” Richie replied with a grin, “but I make no guarantees!”

  Rene laughed and raised a long stemmed wine glass filled with mineral water to his friend. Richie retrieved his wine and raised a toast to the new restaurateur.

  “To the future success of ‘Rene’s at the Marlene’ and my very good friend Rene Lemieux!” he said.

  Wayne sipped from the wine glass filled with mineral water held in his right hand.

  He drank to filter the scotch and slow its effect. Wayne needed to remain in control of his faculties. The stress of the previous weeks ebbed from him as his guests offered congratulations and compliments to the chef.

  Palpable relief now grew within him.

  Wayne also knew to over indulge was exactly what he must not do at a time like this. He thus reigned himself in despite the stream of compliments and congratulatory drinks offered by well-wishers.

  “You’ve had an excellent turnout fer’ yer’ gran’ openin’ Wayne,” the meat salesman Paul Mitchell spoke with the aid of too many drinks, “an’ congrats on gettin’ yer’ doors open an’ getting’ off to a great start!”

  “You’re welcome Paul and thanks for coming,” Wayne replied with a genuine smile, “I sure hope you and the wife enjoyed dinner!”

  “Gotta’ tell ya’ it was pretty damn good!” the salesman grinned with apparent sarcasm as he spoke, “din’t know ‘dem bastids’ at To-Le-Do Foods sold meat ‘dat tender!”

  Wayne laughed and slapped the meat salesman on the back.

  “We’re pretty happy with those folks,” he said, “they provide an excellent product and we’ve got an outstanding sales rep!”

  The salesman laughed again, nodding at his customer with satisfaction.

  “Thanks Wayne.” he said, “I mean it. Glad to have yer’ biz’ness an’ hopin’ fer’ nuttin’ but success fer’ you guys!”

  “Our pleasure and thanks for your support Paul.” Wayne’s reply was sincere, “We appreciate it and I mean that. Can you pardon me while I check in with the kitchen?”

  “No probs,” the meat salesman said with a wink, “but be sure an’ drop back so you can say hi to the wife, she’s gone to inspec’ yer’ facilities.”

  “Will do!” Wayne replied with a grin before moving away.

  Wayne left the lounge and walked the short hallway into the filled beyond capacity dining room.

  He wondered again if despite the good will lavished upon he and his partner they had delivered a product satisfactory to their guests. As the need to be polite was of paramount importance in such a setting, he knew the platitudes offered tonight could prove meaningless.

  In spite of the success of the grand opening they might find themselves alone here in days to come.

  Wayne pushed the thought from his mind and fixed a smile on his face as he crossed the packed dining room. He accepted the compliments offered to him as he worked his way with patience and relaxed good humor toward the kitchen.

  Rene stood in the standing room only confines of the restaurant lounge.

  He watched as the bartender borrowed from Richie Pallento filled yet another order for the attractive waitress Liz McEvoy. Rene admired her fine legs and wondered if she was single.

  As the waitress turned with the tray of drinks raised above her head to depart the lounge, she surprised him with a wink.

  Without thinking he grinned and nodded his encouragement.

  Rene watched her slim hips sway from the room in the tight dress. He reminded himself to be careful. It was a mistake to allow the young woman to catch him admiring her stunning physique.

  He reminded himself that what he didn’t need now was another distraction.

  To get involved with a member of his staff was unacceptable.

  “She’s a hot one Rene,” the voice of Doris Walker rose soft from beside him, “but you wanna’ be careful ‘bout messin’ with yer’ staff.”

  “My god Doris where did you come from?” he replied, surprised enough to be caught staring that his accent displaced.

  “We moved into the lounge to see if there was any more space here than in the dining room,” the wizened breakfast cook said, “but this place is packed too an’ you guys are makin’ a killing tonight!”

  “Let’s ‘ope it’s not ‘da only time, eh?” Rene replied, “Tabernac!”

  “That’s for sure,” Doris said in the low voice, “but you mark my words, these young gals are gonna’ be after you like flies to honey an’ you’re gonna’ havta be careful, hear?”

  “For sure for sure mon amie,” Rene answered her, “but I’m t’inking ‘dat ma’ partner ‘e is ‘da catnip ‘ere, oui oui?”

  “Don’t be so foolish,” the old cook replied.

  Doris kept her voice low in hope the conversation would be lost in the well lubricated crowd milling and talking around them.

  “You’re a handsome man an’ the young ‘uns will be after yer’ money sure as hell.” she said, “That pretty boy you got runnin’ yer’ show is eye candy but its money these girls er’ after an’ you got that, not him. So you be careful is all I’m sayin’, ya’ hear?”

  “T’ank you mon amie,” Rene replied with a grin, “an’ I will be do’ang ma’ bes’ to keep da’ lil’ man in ma’ pants eh, oui oui?”

  “You horny scoundrel!” Doris said.

  She looked up to the face of her boss with a sanguine grin.

  “I just don’t wanna see you get messed up by this crazy business, that’s all.”

  “An’ I t’ank you for your concern ma’ darl’ang,” Rene spoke now with subdued but apparent respect, “but you mus’ trus’ your boss, for ‘e ‘as been aroun’ a block or two in ‘is time, eh?”

  Doris smiled and shook her head at the handsome man standing in front of her.

  “You be careful.” she said with finality, “Hubby an’ I are gonna head home an’ turn in, it’s an early start for me tomorrow an’ I wanna be rested. Have a good night an’ cya in the morning.”

  “I will mon amie an’ you drive safe,” Rene replied, “Say t’anks to ‘ubby an’ we’ll see you for breakfas’!”

  As the old cook turned to weave through the crowd in search of her husband Rene considered her warning. He reminded himself to speak to his partner about the young waitress Sarah Lampley before the night was out. Rene noticed the girl kept a close watch on his young partner. He also caught Wayne staring with naked lust at the young woman while she tended to her duties.

  While doing their best to keep from being obvious like dogs in heat they were having a difficult time of it. To Rene it was impossible to miss the lust percolating below the surface and threatening to boil over between them.

  He smiled and nodded to his guests as he weaved his way through the crowd.

  In search of a refill for his mineral water he remained convinced he could prevent his young partner from making what was sure to be a devastating error in judgment.

  Wayne entered the still hot kitchen and smiled at the two young chefs in their now soiled kitchen whites.

  The working men looked up from their tasks with silent nods to greet him. The sous chef Ron White stood before the sizzling grill occupied by a New York strip while head chef J.D. Dryer stacked plates emerging from the dishwasher.

  Both cooks wore the shocked look of men confronted by an overwhelming task from which there was no escape.

  The pace of work in their small kitchen had now slowed. As the evening wound toward its’ inevitable conclusion both men remained stunned by the experience. They were plainly relieved to survive it.

  “Good work tonight men,” Wayne spoke with a merry voice.

  The effec
t of the scotch was now undeniable, and he enjoyed it.

  “Congratulations and thanks very much to both of you!”

  “Thanks boss,” Ron answered with exhaustion filling his subdued tone, “and I sure hope everybody enjoyed their meals.”

  “Congrats to you, boss!” J.D. Dryer spoke with pride, “We’re happy to be here and hope we held up our end!”

  “The compliments to the chef have been non-stop!” Wayne spoke with enthusiasm, appreciating both men were tired and pleased by their performance, “and Rene and I are proud of what you delivered tonight!”

  “Well that’s a relief and thanks very much again,” Ron answered from the stove as he pressed a finger to the steak on the grill in front of him, “and here’s hoping our customers will spread the word.”

  “Damn straight!” J.D. agreed.

  The cook’s enthusiasm built as he learned of the accolades earned by his menu.

  “They’ll be talkin’ when they leave tonight an’ sayin’ good things too long as the food was kick-ass!”

  “You know it and it sure was men,” Wayne spoke with pride, “and I’d like to introduce you both to the house out front before the place clears if you don’t mind. Are the two of you available yet or are you still taking orders?”

  “That steak Ron’s cookin’ fer’ yer’ lan’lord is last on ar’ list,” J.D. answered, “an’ I’m always up fer’ takin’ a bow! How’bout you Ronnie? You up fer’ havin’ some smoke blown up yer’ ass?”

  The heavy chef laughed as he removed the steak from the grill and placed it into a plate on the island behind him to rest.

  “I can be up for that I think,” the heavy fellow said with a grin, “always nice to be appreciated.”

  “Then come with me and we’ll say a quick hello to our first custies!” Wayne said, “Rene and I are both gonna say a few words and I’d appreciate it if you fellows would give the folks a wave.”

  The young chefs nodded to one another with smiles on their faces. They each wiped their hands with the dish towels worn across their shoulders. Ron White gestured for J.D. to lead the way out of the kitchen.