by Jana DeLeon
“A little burning just adds character,” Gertie said.
“If it’s so great, how come they don’t bottle ‘character’ and shelve it next to paprika at the grocery store?” Ida Belle asked.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I said. “And as much as I appreciate and am happy that I can avoid the work that goes into cooking, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“Now she wants a fish fry,” Gertie grumbled.
Because I knew it’s what she wanted, I smiled just a little. A little was all I could manage at the moment. I’d told Morrow I was absolutely certain about what I was doing, and that was true enough when it came to the part about being the bait that lured Ahmad into my sights. But there was one part I wasn’t confident about at all.
Telling Carter.
The average man would have a heart attack over the woman he cared for offering herself up as bait, but with Carter’s Special Forces past, he knew better than the average man exactly what I was letting myself in for. And then there was the part where I also had to explain why I wanted to lure one of the most dangerous men in the world into my home state. Logically, he’d know I was right, but emotionally, I wondered if he’d threaten to lock me in jail until I came to my senses. This was exactly the kind of thing Carter didn’t want to deal with when it came to me, and I was pitching him the worst possible situation I could muster. All the shenanigans that Ida Belle, Gertie, and I got up to were about to look extraordinarily minor.
Gertie tossed the pot holders on the counter, righted her upended chair, and flopped into it. “What can we do to help take down Ahmad? I’ve got a pretty good stock of ammo and a reasonable amount of explosives.”
“What constitutes a reasonable amount of explosives?” Ida Belle asked.
“Depends on your hobbies,” Gertie said.
“And your friends,” I said and grinned. Gertie’s store of contraband explosives had come in handy a couple of times. Or caused problems. It depended on how you wanted to look at things.
“I’m pretty sure anything in your collection passes right by the line Carter considers reasonable,” Ida Belle said.
“If Carter had his way, I wouldn’t even own matches,” Gertie said.
“True enough,” Ida Belle agreed. “But one of these days you’re going to blow up the block.”
“I don’t like most of them anyway.”
I shook my head, thinking how much I loved these two women. Here I was, facing a showdown with one of the most dangerous men in the world, who just happened to be hell-bent on killing me, and they were doing arms inventory to figure out how to help. I knew with certainty that the thought of saying “nice knowing you” had never crossed either of their minds. It was both overwhelmingly comforting and a tiny bit scary.
“I appreciate the enthusiasm,” I said, “and the offer of explosives, which I might take you up on. But at the moment, that isn’t my biggest concern.”
“You have a bigger concern than death?” Gertie asked.
Ida Belle nodded. “Carter.”
Gertie’s eyes widened. “Oh. You’re right. That is a bigger concern.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said with a sigh.
“What are you going to tell him?” Gertie asked.
“If she knew that, it wouldn’t be a problem,” Ida Belle said. “Try to keep up.”
“I don’t have any options other than the truth,” I said. “It’s not like I can orchestrate a coup without him noticing. I know we’ve managed to fly under the radar a time or two, but this is totally different. I can’t disappear for days or even weeks and then return after news of a shoot-out between federal officials and terrorists makes the rounds without him guessing something was up.”
“Yeah, and I guess law enforcement might be the first to hear,” Gertie said.
“Not to mention that she’ll need Carter’s help,” Ida Belle said. “She’ll need all of our help.”
“Yes and no,” I said. “I’ll need you to talk things out with and all three of you to watch my back when this goes into motion, but the last thing I want is any of you in the middle of this. With the exception of Carter, no one is trained to do what this will take. I know you guys did your thing back in Vietnam, but that was a long time ago. Things are different now.”
“You mean we’re old,” Ida Belle said.
“Who the hell are you calling old?” Gertie asked. “I’m only in my third act.”
Ida Belle stared. “Going to live to be three hundred, are we?”
“If it pisses Celia off, I’m willing to try,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle gave her a single nod. “Good point. But back to Fortune’s problem.” She looked at me. “You can’t do this without allowing Carter to help, and that means getting him on board with your plan. In the past, we haven’t wanted him involved, so everything was after the fact. You were asking for forgiveness, not permission.”
“I’m still not asking for permission,” I said, “but I get what you’re saying. If I don’t let Carter in on this right now, up front, it will probably be a deal breaker.”
“Okay,” Gertie said. “So here’s what you should do. You tell him everything, but you do it wearing sexy lingerie and holding a pot roast.”
Ida Belle threw her hands in the air. “You’re not going to make it to act three, scene two, if you keep spouting nonsense. Are you even in the same conversation?”
“Are you?” Gertie asked. “At least I’m throwing out options instead of just insinuating dire things. Carter loves Fortune and pot roast. It’s probably not enough to distract him from her offering herself up for potential death, but it might be enough to soften the blow.”
“You give your pot roast entirely too much credit,” Ida Belle said.
“And me in sexy lingerie,” I said. “That’s not exactly in my wheelhouse.”
“Then how do you surprise him with a sexy date night?” Gertie asked.
“Naked and holding a beer?” I said.
“Seems reasonable.”
“I’ve failed you.”
They both answered at once.
“Look,” I said, “I appreciate the suggestions and offering up of pot roast to the distraction gods, and I’m not saying it might not come to that, but I think I’m just going to start with the truth and go from there.”
It sounded good and I was sure it was the right thing to do.
I was equally sure what the response would be.
I was saved from having to think more about the matter by a knock and then Ally’s voice at the front door.
“Back here,” I yelled, and a couple seconds later, she popped in the kitchen wearing her usual smile.
I really liked Ally. She was the first real girlfriend I’d ever had. I mean, Gertie and Ida Belle were my friends, but Ally was born within the same decade as me. It was different. I just hoped when the truth about me was out in the open, Ally wasn’t too hurt by all the duplicity I’d laid on her since the moment we’d met.
“Spaghetti?” I asked, and motioned Ally into the vacant chair. “We’re getting ready to have a late lunch. Gertie’s outdone herself this time.”
“And overdone the sauce a bit,” Ida Belle said.
“The sauce is perfect,” Gertie said. “Your palate simply isn’t refined enough to appreciate it.”
“My palate is as old as yours and knows burned sauce when I taste it.”
“That’s okay,” Ally said. “After working a shift at the café, I usually can’t eat for a couple hours.”
“Really?” I said. “I don’t think it would work like that for me. Looking at all that great food all day, I’d want to eat it all. You’d probably have to drive me around on a flatbed trailer.”
“I thought the same thing,” Ally said, “and then on my first day, Mrs. Fontenot took her false teeth out at the table and started cleaning them in her water glass. Seeing other people’s table habits puts me off food for a while.”
I cringed. “That false teeth th
ing might put me off food for a year or better.”
“I did lose weight after I started working there,” Ally said. “At first, I thought it was all the walking, but when I spent a week tracking calories, I realized it was because I’d cut my intake by about thirty percent.”
“Then it all turned out all right,” Ida Belle said.
“Not if they kept that glass the false teeth were in,” I said. “You threw it away, right?”
Ally laughed. “We use strong cleaner and water so hot it would melt plastic. The glass is fine.”
I made a mental note to start bringing my own cup to the café. Lord only knew how many seniors in Sinful were dipping their teeth in glasses. It was one of those problems you didn’t realize existed until you were living in the middle of it. It was also one of those problems you wished you didn’t know about.
“Anyway,” Ally said, “I wanted to come by and tell you guys about the mystery we’ve got going down at the café.”
“What mystery?” Gertie asked. “I haven’t heard anything.”
“Francine’s keeping it all under wraps for now,” Ally said. “But for two weeks straight, food has been disappearing from her freezer.”
“Disappearing when?” Ida Belle asked. “During service?”
“Yes,” Ally said, “but Francine thinks it could also be happening some nights after close. She first realized something was wrong when we ran short on bacon two days ago. She was certain she’d ordered enough, and when she checked the delivery that week against tickets, she estimated that two boxes were missing.”
“That’s an awful lot of cholesterol,” Gertie said. “Anyone had a heart attack lately?”
“Actually, studies are claiming cholesterol is no longer linked to heart disease,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie snorted. “Says who? Doctors? Please.”
I waved a hand at the two of them, then looked at Ally. “I take it the bacon is not the only missing item?”
“Nope,” Ally said. “When she was doing inventory for the food order yesterday, we were short two pot roasts, four whole chickens, and a case of potato chips.”
“Someone’s eating well,” Ida Belle said.
I shook my head. “No dessert. Clearly an amateur.”
“Clearly,” Ally agreed. “Anyway, Francine was certain at least two of the chickens were there that morning because she’d moved them to reach some steaks. But that evening when she worked up the food order, they were gone.”
“And I take it you hadn’t cooked them that day,” Gertie said.
“We already had enough for the day cut up that morning,” Ally said. “Besides, these were frozen. We couldn’t have cooked them right away.”
“How did someone lift two frozen chickens from the freezer and waltz out with them in the middle of service?” Gertie asked.
“Maybe they didn’t waltz out the way you’re thinking,” I said.
Ally nodded. “You’re thinking it’s an employee. Francine does too. That’s why she’s keeping it on the down low. Back a few years ago, she had an employee whose husband got laid off but who didn’t tell anyone. Francine caught her taking food, but she was so distraught and had two little kids. Francine said she would have helped anyway if she’d known.”
“So she’s afraid for word to get out in case one of her employees is in a bind,” Ida Belle said. “Francine’s a good woman.”
“The best,” Ally agreed. “But I’m not convinced it is an employee. Like I told her this morning when she filled me in, people stroll through all the time when we’re open. She leaves checks for vendors on her desk in the back office and they all know where to get them. The back door isn’t locked when we’re open, so they let themselves in and drop off stuff, then pick up their checks. It always seems like one of the appliance or computer guys is there, and friends and family of employees sometimes pop in the back for a private word.”
“And since all of those people cycle through on a regular basis,” I said, “and Francine can’t pin down the exact time the food disappeared, it could be any of them.”
“Exactly,” Ally said. “It’s making Francine a little crazy, not knowing if someone needs help. I knew something had been bothering her, but I never dreamed this was going on.”
“Plenty of people have access during the daytime,” I said, “but you said some stuff might be missing from overnight. How is someone getting in then?”
“I don’t know,” Ally said. “I mean, the employees who handle open or close have keys because we do the unlocking in the morning or final lockup at night, but if it’s not an employee stealing, then I don’t know how they’re getting in. Nothing has been jimmied, and none of the windows are unlocked.”
“If all the employees who open or close have a key,” Gertie said, “that could be an awful lot of keys floating around Sinful. It wouldn’t be that hard for someone close to an employee to pick one up and have a copy made. It’s not like keys are stamped with the address on them. Walter wouldn’t know a key to Francine’s place from a key to my house.”
“That’s true,” Ida Belle said. “Simple to swipe someone’s key on their day off and have a copy made.”
I nodded. “Why doesn’t Francine have a security system?”
“She’s never really needed one,” Ally said. “And she doesn’t want the monthly bill. Besides, if someone sets off the alarm, then the police come. If it is an employee and the police catch them, Francine doesn’t get to decide how to handle it.”
“Well, she should at least put up some cameras,” I said. “They’re inexpensive and can run off the internet. When something goes missing again, she can check the footage.”
Ally nodded. “I told her the same thing. A friend of mine from high school did that in her sorority house because her snacks kept going missing.”
“Was it one of her sorority sisters?” Gertie asked.
“Uh-huh,” Ally said. “The one on a diet, of course. She didn’t want anyone to see her buying junk food, but she had no compunction over stealing other people’s.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “I don’t trust anyone on a diet.”
“Is anyone working at the café on a diet?” Gertie asked.
“Every one of us off and on,” Ally said. “We’re not all blessed with Fortune’s metabolism.”
“I get a lot of exercise in unconventional ways,” I said. It was the best way I knew to put it. I couldn’t exactly tell Ally that I worked off my calories evading law enforcement and bad guys in Sinful and by even more nefarious means before my arrival here.
“I know about some of those unconventional ways,” Ally said, and grinned. “And there’s more rumors than you can shake a stick at, which is my whole point in telling you guys about this. I know you like a puzzle, and you don’t call the police over every slight, so…”
“You want us to catch the thief?” Gertie bounced up and down on her chair, clapping her hands. It was a look I’d seen several times before and it had yet to end well.
“Wait,” I said. “I thought you told Francine to get cameras.”
“I did and she ordered them,” Ally said, “but they won’t be here for a week. I thought that in the meantime, you guys might want to take a run at solving this.”
“The Mystery of the Missing Morsels,” Gertie said. “It has Nancy Drew written all over it.”
“No way,” I said. “This woman in some interview about books last week on the news said she missed Nancy Drew because she wore dresses and was well-mannered. That’s not me.”
“Ha!” Ida Belle said. “Got that right. But we are nosy, and we like to butt into things the police would rather we stayed out of.”
“So you’re saying we should try to catch a foodie thief?” I shrugged. “Why not? God knows we’ve done worse, and besides, I like Francine. If she thinks someone might need help, then there’s no use making their plight public.”
“Oh good!” Ally said. “What do you need from me?”
“A list
of all the employees who have a key, for starters,” I said. “And another list of the people you think might have done it.”
Ally’s eyes widened. “Me? Oh, no. I couldn’t…I don’t…”
“Sure you can, honey,” Gertie said. “Just think about all those people and cough up the names of the ones you think might have money troubles or just be up to shady stuff. It’s not hard. Ida Belle and I have been doing it all our lives.”
“She’s right,” Ida Belle said. “If you’re going to live in Sinful, and especially if you plan on ever opening a business here, you better hone your discernment skills. They’ll save your hide.”
“And your frozen goods, apparently,” I said.
Ally laughed. “You guys crack me up. Okay, I’ll put together the employee list and I’ll think about the other one. But honestly, no one comes to mind.”
“You’re not thinking hard enough,” Gertie said. “I saw Myra drink half a bottled water last week and refill it with tap.”
“Oh my God!” Ally said. “Myra’s been there since Francine opened her doors. Please tell me you’re joking.”
Gertie shook her head. “But she was serving Celia, so I was okay with it.”
Ally covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s so wrong. I want to be outraged but I can’t work it up.”
“I want to buy Myra a drink,” I said. “Maybe even flowers.”
“I already baked her a blueberry cobber,” Gertie said. “It’s her favorite.”
“Myra was an only child who inherited her mother’s estate,” Ida Belle said. “She could probably buy out the café ten times over, so she’s definitely not the one in need. She still works there because she likes it. If you can believe that.”
“If I could get one over on Celia on a regular basis, I’d like it,” I said.
“Oh, Fortune,” Ally said. “Your existence alone gives Aunt Celia heart palpitations every single day.”
I grinned. “Then my work here is done.”
Chapter Four
I wasn’t about to give Gertie’s idea a try. At the first sign of lace, Carter would know something was up. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to put on something besides a sports bra, and since it was one degree cooler than yesterday, leaving my hair down wasn’t completely odd. And it wasn’t pot roast, but Carter always had a couple homemade hamburger patties in his refrigerator, for quick and easy dinner. So if I dropped by before he got off work and threw them on the grill, then that wouldn’t be completely underhanded. After all, I usually spent at least one night a week at his house and we’d probably end up eating burgers anyway. Call it being efficient. Or proactive, because once Carter found out what I was doing, he wouldn’t stop yelling until the burgers were burned to a crisp.