SEAS THE DAY

by Maggie Toussaint

  “Okay. You look better without the beard. Want me to trim your hair? I do my brother’s all the time.”

  Unconsciously, he smoothed his hair away from his leathery face. “No thanks, I’m used to it being long. I dug through the bathroom drawers and found an elastic band to secure it. Hope you don’t mind.”

  My turn to blush. I didn’t mean to criticize his choice of hair style. “We’re good as long as you help Kale.”

  “My federal contact is already looking into his charges. I’ll meet her at the station in an hour.”

  “That’s cutting it close,” I said, thinking of how long a suit fitting might take.

  “You’re right. It’s a damn shame to inhale food that tastes this good, but I can’t let Estelle’s son down.” He glanced at the urn nestled amongst my kitchen cannisters. “That her?”

  “Yes.”

  While we ate, I perused my call log. Three calls and voicemails from Lance, one from Pete with no message, one from tomorrow evening’s client. I listened to the client’s voicemail quickly. He wanted a change of dessert from key lime pie to lemon meringue. I texted back that I would make the change. The guys would have to wait for return calls until I had a moment to myself. Kale was my top priority right now.

  A familiar kitty mewed in my back yard.

  “You have a cat?” Jude asked, turning at the sound.

  “Kind of. A black cat visits here occasionally. I hoped he might become a permanent resident, seeing as how he once decided to take a ride with me out to Bayside Marina. But he goes where he likes. I’ll set food out for him before we go.”

  “You don’t have to go with me to get a suit.”

  I ran water over the dishes in the sink and opened a can of cat food. “I have a responsibility to get you to the jail. If you can’t help Kale, whatever this mess is, it will swallow him whole.”

  “He’s lucky you’re his friend. Some wouldn’t be so diligent.”

  “Some don’t know him like I do. Some didn’t promise his mother to find his brother.”

  “All righty.” He rose and patted his flat belly. “First rate meal. Never tasted better. You making a go of Holloway Catering?”

  I shot him a smile over my shoulder as I headed to the door. “Doing okay. Not setting the world on fire income-wise, but my clientele is growing.”

  “Let me get that screen door.”

  I paused so he could open it. Major watched from farther away than usual. Guess Jude’s presence freaked him out. I cooed to the cat that it was nice to see him again then went back inside, securing the doors.

  “That cat looks familiar.” Jude turned away from the porch as I hustled the dishes into the dishwasher.

  “He’s a black cat and he knows his way around the island. Maybe you have seen him before.”

  “Perhaps. Getting back to Holloway Catering. You could hire an assistant and charge more. No reason people wouldn’t pay more for good eating like that.”

  I did not like people telling me what to do, and the thought of being responsible for someone else’s livelihood scared the willies out of me. “Let’s leave fixing my life to another day, okay?”

  “Message received.” He raised his hands in surrender mode. “For a little thing, you sure pack a punch.”

  My height wasn’t short. He was very tall, somewhere north of six feet, but I didn’t want to argue. “Keep that in mind.” I swept past him to gather my purse and keys.

  Major may have meowed, but when I glanced at him, darn if he didn’t look cherubic.

  Good grief.

  The men’s shop had exactly one suit in Jude’s size and it was light blue. He walked out wearing the suit and new shoes, carrying a shopping bag with new jeans and a ventilated fishing shirt, looking like he would burst into an oldies dance routine at any minute or start quoting Ernest Hemmingway. Maybe the pastel-colored suit would fool his opponents into lowering their guard. I hoped so, for Kale’s sake.

  While Jude met with the lawyers, cops, and the judge, I slipped over to the minute market to buy the disposable phone Jude had requested. He also asked that I put my number in his phone. It took a bit to get it sorted out, but I entered my number and name in his phone, then sent myself a text from his message center so I had his number.

  I drove to tutoring and an hour later I returned to the courthouse parking lot. While I waited for Jude to emerge, I listed a mental inventory of what I needed for the surf and turf meal for two tomorrow evening. Best if I made the pie tonight. Lemon meringues tasted better the second day anyway.

  A crisp rap on the locked van window startled me out of my reverie. I glanced up, feeling anxious and vulnerable. Deputy Lance Hamlyn. Oh. Shoot. I forgot to call him.

  I lowered the window and nodded. “Good afternoon.”

  His face and neck were red and this time of year it wasn’t from sunburn. “You didn’t return my calls,” he gritted.

  “Had a busy day,” I said, flashing my the-customer-is-always-right smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “You didn’t tell me Kale requested a lawyer.”

  “Kale is my friend, and I contacted his lawyer. He needs a professional advocate.”

  “Jude Ernest?” Lance sputtered. “You think that ambulance chaser is a pro? You should’ve called me for a recommendation.”

  “Kale is my friend, regardless of what he’s done. As a deputy, you uphold the law. Kale broke the law by faking his death, so we are on opposite sides in regard to Kale’s fate.”

  “You should’ve told me. I thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought things were different. That we were friends.”

  “Friends,” I repeated, knowing that my interest in him was platonic. He’d hoped to date me. Time to draw the relationship line more firmly in the ground. “We are acquaintances who share a mutual interest in finding Chili. I’ve said this before. Regarding friendship, I have a boyfriend, we’re practically engaged.”

  He made another show of glancing at my hand. “There’s still no ring on your finger.”

  “Get this through that thick head of yours. I’d never cheat on Pete. Besides, I’m not interested in dating you. Do you understand?”

  “This isn’t right.”

  “I’m sorry if you read anything into our collaboration. I’m sure there’s a nice woman out there for you.”

  The courthouse doors opened and Jude Ernest walked out hand-in-hand with a stunning redhead, almost as tall as he was. Kale was nowhere in sight, but he’d already proved to be a flight risk.

  Jude and his lady friend headed for my van. Lance tapped his fingers restlessly on the outside of the door. “This is out of control. Too many people are involved now. You could get hurt.”

  His comment struck me as odd. “You know something I don’t?”

  “Be very careful who you trust is all I can say.”

  “Good advice,” I said to his retreating back. Why did Lance fix on me as a dating prospect? Why was he warning me?

  “A friend of yours?” Jude asked, chinning toward the retreating deputy.

  “No. What’s the news?”

  He introduced his companion as Agent Samantha Kress. “Good thing we got here when we did,” Jude said. “Deputies locked Kale in an interrogation room. They were badgering him to admit all kinds of crimes. Kale nearly broke. This has been hard on him.”

  “Does he have a deal?” I asked. “Is he safe?”

  “Yes. Look, Sammy and I have catching up to do. She’ll make sure I get home. All right if I touch base with you later?”

  “Sure.”

  He leaned in closer. “Did you get the burner?”

  I slipped him the phone in the guise of a handshake, and he nodded. “See you later.” With a jaunty wave, he walked away with his lady friend.

  Huh. His new ever
yday clothes were still in the back of my van, his other clothes in my washer. He’d turn up sooner or later. The good news was that Kale was safe.

  One Bolz brother accounted for, one to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I waited to call Pete until the meringue finished baking. I didn’t want to chance under or over cooking this pie. I rechecked my food inventory list to make sure I had remembered everything for tomorrow’s customer. I’d purchased fresh produce for an awesome salad. Tomorrow I’d pick up filet mignon from the butcher shop, fresh mahi from my favorite seafood market, and fresh Brussels sprouts from the farmer’s market.

  Twilight had settled on my yard when I cozied up to the phone in my living room. It felt good to put my feet up on the coffee table. Pete answered on the first ring. He looked harried and a bit drawn on the video call. “Where have you been?” he asked, his emerald eyes blazing with emotion. “I needed to talk to you.”

  Not the loving greeting I’d hoped for, but he didn’t know the crazy day I’d had. “It’s been hectic here, and I didn’t want our conversation to feel rushed. Are you okay?”

  “Hectic day here too,” he said. “The good news is I’m coming home tomorrow.”

  I sat up straight and replayed his last sentence in my thoughts. It took everything I had not to jump up and down and shout hallelujah. I’d see Pete tomorrow. He’d be here. Holy cow.

  I tried to figure out what changed to allow him to leave. “You found a buyer?”

  “I wish. Every deal I attempted failed. The board froze my company stock. I’ll take a big financial hit, but I’ve got to move on. North Merrick is a hostile work environment, and I’ve served the board with legal papers.” He winced as if in pain. “They didn’t take it well. Dalbert North is threatening to sue me for breach of contract.”

  While I was sorry about the business failure, I wasn’t sorry Pete was coming home. Having to walk away from a firm he’d put his name on must be eating him up inside.

  Studying his image more closely, he seemed pale. “You look exhausted. I know you had high hopes for this company, but it’s been trouble since you went out there. If you think it’s the right thing to do, I’m glad you’re walking away.”

  “It isn’t easy for me to pull out, or I would’ve done it months ago. I’m no quitter, but I’ve made enough noise that if something happened to me, the right people will investigate.”

  Took me a moment to digest his words. Something had happened. Something bad. “More death threats?”

  “These people do not play nice.” He panned the phone’s camera down to his arm in a sling. “They nearly got me today, River. I’m not just walking away. I’m hightailing it. I have a ticket to fly home tomorrow. Because of the time difference and a layover in Atlanta, it’ll be late before I land in Brunswick.”

  They hurt him. Sympathy caused me to curl inward at his pain, clutching my belly. “Omigosh. Someone shot you?”

  “A man stabbed me. Really jacked up my arm. I pressed charges, and I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve been living it all day. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry.”

  “I am worried. You got stabbed. Someone hurt you. This is terrible.”

  “It’s been a losing battle the whole time. I thought I could turn this place around, but the problems run too deep. I’d hoped to save the world and be your knight in shining armor. Not this time. I’m not the guy.”

  “You are that guy, but those people don’t deserve you. Come home, rest up, and you’ll be ready to fight a new battle.”

  “Maybe.” He glanced away for a few seconds. “I’m just so tired.”

  “I understand, hon. Can you get some rest tonight?”

  “Yeah. I hired a security company to watch over me and make sure I catch my plane. I don’t have to worry about another attack tonight.”

  Guards? He must be worried. “I’ll pick you up in Brunswick. What time?”

  “My plane arrives at eight forty-five. Last flight of the day.”

  A smile filled my face. “The timing is perfect. I’ll be done with my catering job by then, but I’ll have a van full of pots and pans. No telling what I’ll smell like.”

  His lips quirked up. “You’ll smell like home. I can’t wait to see you and be with you.”

  We ended the call and I looked around my house. I’d always loved living here. It had been my grandmother’s and my mom’s place. I knew every inch of these walls, from the windowsill my brother cut his teeth on to the toilet handle that needed an extra jiggle after every flush.

  Pete had never lived here, though he’d spent the occasional night. Most of our together time on the island had been at his place, a custom-built beach house he’d sold prior to his move to California.

  Consolidation he’d called it when I protested the sale, thinking he might want that beautiful house again someday. Now he’d move in here. He was right. We both wanted togetherness, but this place wasn’t up to his usual luxury standards.

  Would he see my gracefully aged home as coming down in the world?

  For that matter, where would I put his stuff? I could easily donate excess clothes to the thrift shop tomorrow to make room in my closet and dresser, but he’d still be camping out in my space. The rooms and closets in this sixty-year-old house were tiny. I’d used up most of the bedroom floor space when I upgraded to a king-sized bed. No way would two dressers fit in the bedroom.

  To the best of my recollection, Pete had at least six power suits and an entire closet for dress slacks, shirts, and ties. One entire rack for his fancy shoes.

  He thought he’d had challenges in California. Living here would be a lifestyle change for him.

  But at least he’d be alive.

  And mine.

  I clung to that thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  First thing in the morning, I went on a culling-out and sprucing-up spree in preparation for Pete’s arrival. Old clothes were bagged, junk moved to the attic, and a flurry of housecleaning ensued. Jude texted he’d pick up his Jeep later and instructed me to leave his clothes in the vehicle, which I did right away.

  After donating my clothes to the thrift shop, I headed to the butcher shop, the farmer’s co-op, and the seafood market in preparation for tonight’s client. Each item checked off my day’s list filled me with a sense of accomplishment. Holloway Catering might be small potatoes, but we offered top quality.

  At Neptune’s Harvest, Dasia Allen pushed her long, jet black hair over her shoulder. “Have you decided about River Cakes?”

  I’d thought about it so much I couldn’t reach a decision. It would be a headache gearing up to commercial production mode. At any one time, a lot of resources would be tied up in product, and if the marketing didn’t pan out, I’d be at risk, not the Allens.

  Still, who turned down a business opportunity like this? Pete would probably tell me to go for it. I’m not Pete, I told myself. There must be a reason I can’t decide.

  “Sorry,” I began slowly, feeling my way through this commercial quicksand. The storefront room smelled faintly of seafood and bleach. “I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time to draft a business plan to study the cost of scaling up for a venture of that magnitude. One thing I know for sure, it represents a change of customer focus for me. As a small business owner, I enjoy seeing the smiles on customer’s faces from a delicious meal. The thought of going into larger production mode and having more financial risk scares me.”

  “Thinking small will keep your profits small,” Dasia said as she weighed out the amount of mahi I’d requested. “We want you as our business partner, but if you don’t want the opportunity, say the word and we’ll ask someone else.”

  Pete shared her entrepreneurial mindset, but I loved being small. I didn’t have to worry about other people being out of work if I didn’t have enough bookings. I didn’t appreciate Dasia pressur
ing me to decide.

  Suddenly, my answer crystallized. I enjoyed working for myself. I didn’t want anyone looking over my shoulder, guilting me into doing something that didn’t feel right, and criticizing my decisions.

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” I reached for my business check book. “You helped clarify my thoughts. This is a good business opportunity for you and Jerry to explore, but it isn’t the direction for Holloway Catering right now. I’m officially out.”

  Her eyes opened wide. Clearly, she’d expected me to throw in with them. “We want to move on this right away. We won’t wait until you’re ready.”

  More pressure from her. Already I was super happy with my decision to pass. “I don’t expect you to. As you said, there are other caterers in town.”

  Dasia’s face fell as she rang up the sale. “We really wanted your crab cakes. They’re Jerry’s favorites.”

  “Sorry. They will remain exclusive products for my catering customers.”

  Driving home, I felt carefree, as if a load had been lifted off my shoulders. Now if I could manage to find Chili Bolz, I’d be home free. But that had to wait. The house was ready for Pete’s homecoming, and I had a catering job tonight.

  Some hinted wedding bells were in the offing for widowed bank president Gary Browning and Alberta Kimball. Gary had been with the bank as long as I could remember. Alberta retired here from Chicago about a year ago. She’d made a big splash on the dating scene upon arrival and caught Gary’s eye. They’d been an item ever since.

  I hoped it worked out for them. If I catered their wedding, that exposure would be good for future business. So getting tonight’s dinner perfect carried double weight. Sometimes I was tempted to prep a few dishes in my home kitchen, but by law my business cooking had to be done in my commercial kitchen. The entire outbuilding in my backyard was modular, which meant that if I ever moved, I could take the kitchen with me, though it would be costly to do so.